I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t understand men. I don’t understand the big ones. I don’t understand the medium-sized ones. And I don’t understand the pint-sized men-in-training.
The latest mystery of the male species, which I’ve pondered for several weeks now, is the male inclination to boast. It doesn’t seem to matter what they’re boasting about. The point isn’t to win a specific title. The point is simply to win any title.
A typical conversation between the males in my household goes something like this:
Big Man: I can eat more animal crackers than you.
Little Man: No you can’t. I can eat more.
Big Man: In your dreams, buddy. I can so eat more than you can.
Little Man: I’d like to see you try.
Me: But neither of you even likes animal crackers!
Them: (in unison) That’s not the point.
And there’s another competition that occurs regularly at my house, though for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.
Big Man: I’m uglier than you are.
Little Man: No you’re not. I’m uglier.
Big Man: You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t even come close to my ugly.
Little Man: You need a new pair of glasses, Dad. Because if your eyes were working, you’d clearly see that I’m the ugliest.
Big Man: Mom, who do you think is the ugliest?
This is where they both look at me with such desperation, such hopeful expectancy, that I just want to dig a hole and jump in it. I mean, how am I supposed to answer that question? No matter what I say, they both lose.
According to them, ugly is the new handsome.
As pointless as it is to boast, I have found one thing that’s worth boasting about. And I suppose it does involve a male. I could brag to you all day and all night about my Heavenly Father.
After all, He really is the best. He’s the Master Builder, the Expert Craftsman, the Supreme Artist. He’s the King of kings and the Lord of lords, the Wonderful Counselor, the Almighty God, the Prince of Peace, the Everlasting Father.
He’s amazing, awe-inspiring, awesome. There aren’t enough words to list His incredible attributes, and even if there were, there wouldn’t be enough paper on which to record them.
Yep. That’s my Father. He holds the title for every good thing imaginable. Yet, instead of bragging about His status, He decided to lay it all aside — the titles, the riches, the glory. He chose to become of no account, so that I could join His family and learn what it feels like to be the daughter of a king. Because He became nobody, I’m somebody.
I’m sure all the little boasting contests will continue at my house, despite my lack of understanding of the point of it all. But there’s one bragging contest that goes undisputed: My Father is the best.
“Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord,” 2 Corinthians 10:17.