I want to be a hero

There was a song a long time ago called Hero (by Steve Taylor, not the “popular” one) where he writes that being a hero “is a nice-boy notion that the real world’s gonna destroy”. I can’t agree. I want to be a hero and I have known enough about this world that my desire to be a hero grows stronger with each passing day. Almost hourly some days. Most of all, I want to be my wife’s hero. To be admired by her and to have her look at me and know that there is a man who wants so desperately to be loved and admired by her and her alone. It gives me so much joy and satisfaction when she thanks me for what I have done – I feel like a provider and, at some level, a hero. I also want to be my boy’s hero. I want them to want to be like me. I want my God to be their God and for Christ-likeness to be their only desire.

Above all of this is my Hero. I think we can have small and big heroes. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. As long as our little heroes derive their joy from the Hero Himself I think we would do well to follow their lead. I know that it gives Him great joy when I think about Him and the Hero He is to me. I get a sense of that myself as I reflect on the feelings of being a hero for my family. I want to go to my grave hard with the knowledge that I gave it my all. That I finished the race strong, not flagging as I see the finish line approaching. Going out in a blaze of glory so to speak for the glory is all His anyway.

Yes, I want to be a hero. And because this world is not my home I find no encouragement or discouragement from it. My treasure lies elsewhere. And so does my Hero – but He is as close as the air that filled my lungs from the last breath I took. And there He is again. Hello, Hero. I beg you, please, remain with me and dine with me.

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