Idols

November 18, 2013

Idols are strange things. They come upon us with no warning and leave us feeling empty and lost. I speak from experience. It may seem strange or silly, but I idolized a fictional character.

He was handsome, intriguing, fascinating, hurt, rejected, misunderstood, strong, seeking appreciation, turned to be an antagonist because of the wrongs committed against him, and I wished more than anything I could give him love. Love was what would change him. It would help him; it would fix him. 

 

Hear me out. Other fan girls have done the same thing. And if you are one, you are thinking: “Just because I really like this guy, just because I have posters of him all over my walls, just because I daydream about him night and day, doesn’t mean that he’s my idol.”

I’m here to tell you, yes it does.

When we have something other than God sitting on the throne of our hearts, we have an idol. It doesn’t matter if your idol is pretend, fictional, and/or imaginary…

I learned the hard way. I thought about him night and day. I daydreamed what it would be like if I was in his story. I wrote fan fiction about me being his love interest. 

It was fun. It was satisfying. It filled me and gave me emotional highs. 

But the more I went on, the more I had to think about it, read about it, write about it. And more and more, it wouldn’t fill me up like it used too. 

And so, I was emptied. My idol had consumed me to a point where I had nothing left to give to it. I could never meet the guy. I only had his movies to fulfill me. 

Now I felt stupid. I was an idiot. I let myself fall so far down, that climbing out of that deep dark hole was going to be hard and painful. But I did it. And I stand triumphant today…Although today I read this:

“All those who make idols are worthless, and the gods they prize so highly are useless. Those who worship these gods are blind and ignorant-and they will be disgraced. It does no good to make a metal image to worship as a god! Everyone who worships it will be humiliated. The people who make idols are human beings and nothing more. Let them come and stand trial-they will be terrified and will suffer disgrace.

The metal worker takes a piece of metal and works with it over a fire. His strong arm swings a hammer to pound the metal into shape. As he works, he gets hungry, thirsty, and tired.

The carpenter measures the wood. He outlines a figure with chalk, carves it out with tools, and makes it in the form of a man, and handsome human figure, to be placed in his house. He might cut down cedars to use, or choose oak or cypress wood from the forest. Or he might plant a laurel tree and wait for the rain to make it grow. A person uses part of a tree for fuel and part of it for making an idol. With one part he builds a fire to warm himself and bake bread; with the other part he makes a god and worships it. With some of the wood he makes a fire; he roasts meat, eats it and is satisfied. He warms himself and says, “How nice and warm! What a beautiful fire!” The rest of the wood he makes into an idol, and then he bows down and worships it. He prays to it and says, “You are my god-save me!”

Such people are too stupid to know what they are doing. They close their eyes and minds to the truth. The maker of idols hasn’t the wit or the sense to say, “Some of the wood I burned up. I baked some bread on the coals, and I roasted meat and ate it. And the rest of the wood I made into an idol. Here I am bowing down to a block of wood!”

It makes as much sense as eating ashes. His foolish ideas have so misled him that he is beyond help. He won’t admit to himself that the idol he holds in his hands is not a god at all.” (Isaiah 44:9-20)

So, I admitted to myself…Myself, you were an idiot.

Thankfully, I no longer have him as my idol. Unfortunately, however, I’ve dragged a friend into the mire. I introduced her to the marvels of his beauty, the splendor of his story, and the wonders of his power. She is falling into the same pit I fell in and I don’t know how to catch her.

I shall pray. I shall tell her how badly it’ll hurt when she hits the bottom. I shall pray some more. I can’t save her, although I was the one who did this.