I’m forty five years old, a man in the world, and for the first forty years it was all about me. I was a brazen cookie cutter example of “individuality” and unwarranted pride. Just like so very many (it’s so clear to me now), my feelings were deeper and my thoughts soared higher than the drones I perceived most others to be.
Then Jesus, Christ Jesus, raised Himself from the dead, so two thousand years later (Thank God!), it’s not about me.