The houses I build

I see myself building houses to live in all the time. These places are habitations where I am the most eloquent, best looking, most desired man I could possibly be. Every action and reaction revolves around me and, in no small measure, has at least a portion of its genesis in me. These are places where I am used mightily by God and where His words are not only present, but they are, in ever-increasing measure, expressed in ways that no one else ever has and in a way that no one else ever could. In these houses the only thing people could possibly want is to be around me for they are so enamored with who I am.

These are the places where I am never wrong, always misunderstood (isn't that the lot of genius?), and free from burden.  These dwellings line the street that I have built and have perfect lawns and fountains in the middle of gardens full of flowers that no one else can grow. Why should I seek understanding from anyone when I am the one who should be understood? Why love when their affections should be directed toward me? What do they have to offer that I don't possess? No one can touch me there for I am self-sufficient. No one dares touch me for I will expose their nakedness and prove their inadequacies.

Yet, there is another house that has been built for me. I don't visit it often enough let alone desire to dwell in it.