April 6th - The Rifleman

The story...

I knew a guy, from my dorm floor in college, who I coined the nickname: "The Rifleman."  The nickname stuck and we became pretty-good friends.  We both received hand-held Coleco football games for Christmas.

We began a friendly competition of scoring the most points on the skill-level 1 setting.  I'd set the record and he'd break it the next day.  Other people knew about our "game" and would mention the Rifleman's new high score while passing me on campus - "No way!"  I found that vibrating the eraser-end of a pencil was a good way to speed the red blip across the screen.  He copied me and even improved my method. I tried a variety of pencil erasers to get the best "action."  Inevitably, he'd break each of my records.  My behavior degraded to the point that I found myself in my dorm room, in the middle of a school day, sweating as I attempted to get that more perfect game and attain yet another high score.  That day, a good friend of mine barged into my room.  She was met by my anxious call to "don't bother me now, I've got a good one going!"   They said loudly and directly, "look what you're turning into, do you really want to live like this?"  To my surprise, I was able to see my behavior, in the light of day, and was a bit disgusted with how far I drifted off course - this was the end of my battle with the Rifleman.

How will people in the only church in town know if they're running quickly, maybe recklessly, in the wrong direction?  I'd hope that a leader, or good friend, would recognize that their behavior's outside the will of God and communicate the message in a manner that might be received - shine light on the truth.  For me, it seems that I need to be confronted directly - others may need a more subtle and sensitive approach.

Just for today...

"I used humor as a manipulative tool to get people to like me.  My witty comments were carefully timed.  My sense of humor wasn't spontaneous or appropriate.  I used it to please people.  When no one was around to please, however, I was miserable and self-loathing."  Hope for Today (p. 97)