It's tough when there's a new kid in town. When I was in 3rd grade I was the smartest kid in class. Everybody knew it. I was the smart one. I would finish my work first. I did the best in our math games. I knew all the answers. Then April showed up (I can't remember her name, but April will do). April was smart, too. April became the smart girl. I could still take her in smartness, but I had to share my glory. My smartness wasn't quite as amazing because well, April was smart, too. Luckily at then end of the semester she moved to Oklahoma City. I was glad.
The problem with this is that the focus the whole time was on me. Granted, I was 8, but I wanted all of the attention. We never grow out of that. We like to be recognized. To have people appreciate us. That's all well and good, but we get addicted to it. We like that everyone laughs at our jokes. We like that people think we're an engaging speaker. We like that people tell us they like to hear us sing or play guitar. Then rather than doing something to glorify God, it turns into doing something that brings us glory. And God sighs at how pathetic we are. We're just like the kid who thinks he's so smart because he can multiply faster than 20 other kids. JM