Only Child Syndrome (Part 18.6)

When I was a little boy, my mama said I was very special because she wanted me to feel good about myself. I did. I felt really good about myself. I felt so special that I was almost sure, in my heart, that I was Jesus.

When I was a little boy I thought I was Jesus. I thought I would grow up with the burden of being the second coming of Christ. I figured sometime in high school I would receive an official visit from an angel who would confirm the news. So I waited. And I waited. And I did good deeds: I mowed the lawn, smiled often, refused to make fun of nice people, prayed all day, and said "thanks God" anytime something good happened. I always behaved in a way that was better than other people (the son of God has high standards).

Because I was Jesus it was very easy for me to tell right from wrong. It was also very easy for me to tell when people were being bad and were going to hell. I thought: most people are going to hell because they are evil, they listen to the dark side, and they make fun of me for wearing pink short-sleeved button-down shirts tucked into black baggy pants. Kids especially are evil.

I wasn't ever nor will I ever be Jesus, but I was and still am a big dork. For example, it makes me proud, now that I'm grown up, that I can remember the details of my nerdy childhood clothing, picked out by mama, of course. Taunting helps to engrave memories into your soul with surprising meticulousness. This kind of pride is dorky.

It also makes me proud that I can say that while I'm definitely not Jesus, I am still better than most.