High and Maddy
For I say, through the
grace given unto me,
to every man that is
among you,
not to think of
himself more highly than he ought to think;
but to think soberly,
according as God hath dealt
to every man the
measure of faith.
— Romans 12:3
The other day, Maddy, 7, informed me
that there is a country called "Maddyville," with a "Maddy River, "the "Maddy
Mountains," and a capital city, "Maddyville."
It is populated by millions of
Maddys. Every classroom teacher is a Maddy. Every Burger King drive-through
person is a Maddy. Even the swimming pools have her face painted on the bottom so
that she's smiling up at airplanes that fly over, piloted, of course, by entire
squadrons of Capt. Maddys.
The piece de resistance? "Maddy Mt.
Rushmore."
Here's Maddy with her big sister, Eden,
in northern Minnesota this past summer.
"Goodness gracious, young lady," I
sputtered. "That is the most stuck-up thing I have ever heard!"
"Oh, it isn't just ME on Maddy Mt.
Rushmore," she replied, patronizingly. "There's also Sunny (the dog), Tigrrr
and Louie (the cats), and Fluffy (the guinea pig)."
Like that makes it humble pie.
She skipped off, planning the Maddy
NFL, Maddy Hollywood, Maddy Congress. . . .
Whoa! Narcissism R Us! That's the
last way I want her to be. When you're stuck up, you talk down. You see only
your wants and needs, not other people's. You hurt them and you don't know - or
don't care. Where on earth did this come from?
Later, a friend was venting about a
meanmouth who was poisoning his workplace.
I heard myself saying, "He probably
grew up in an abusive home. That kind of behavior doesn't just come out of
nowhere. Somebody must have modeled it for him."
Suddenly, I froze. Maddy's
narcissism: it didn't just come out of nowhere.
Ewwww!
Somebody must be modeling it!
DOUBLE ewwww!
Her father is as sweet, self-effacing
and humble as they come. I, on the other hand, spend a lot of time at my second
home on the Planet of Me.
I had to do a better job of reining
in my own pride and selfishness, to bring the Maddy Mountains down to earth and
teach her how to live in humility and compassion. But how?
As always, the Holy Spirit gave me
the lesson plan.
See, it was time to de-crust the
kitchen floor. A few times a year, I get down on my hands and knees and really
scrub, with vinegar, ammonia, baking-soda and elbow grease. So I got started,
tut-tutting over the blackness of the water after just a few dabs.
Down close to the light maple planks,
as I wiped, I could see all kinds of scratches and dings in the wood. My rag
picked up tiny granules of sand and pebbles tracked in from outside, and I
could see the pockmarks from where people's shoes had pushed them into the
wood, leaving countless marks and scratches.
From up high, when I stand and walk
around, I can't see that damage. But up close, it's very apparent.
That's
what you do to people when you act high and mighty around them, the Spirit
said, quietly, to my heart.
Scratch their souls. Leave dings. Literally
walk on them.
The Lord wants us lowly and soft,
not haughty and hard. He told us the meek shall inherit the Earth . . . not the
stuck-ups.
That was it: I could make Maddy get
down on her hands and knees with me, and wash the floor from now on. It'll be
good for both of us. And when we're down there, I can show her those marks. She'll
understand!
She can still be cute and
Maddy-like; she's got those freckles goin' on, and it's OK to let her know
she's adorable. But . . . no more "Maddy Mt. Rushmore" thinking.
Yes, I'm determined to instill
humility, and lots of it. But she doesn't make my job easy. Yesterday, she
scored not one, but TWO, goals at soccer, and her team won, 2-1.
Oh, well. The Maddyville Gazette can make it their Page One story . . . as
long as there's just a LITTLE coverage of Maddy's two goals, and a LOT about
that great team defense! †
