Ever Kissed a Kylothian Monster?

OK, so sometimes I delude myself.

Years ago, when my children were little, I decided it was time to get into shape. So, one Sunday afternoon I dropped by the local Y, hopped onto an exercise bike and pedaled away.

After a few minutes, I noticed I was drawing the attention of several men in the room. They were casting glances in my direction – some more obvious than others but definitely looking at me!

Well, I thought, I guess I’ve been a little hard on myself. I must look better than I think! Trying not to look obvious and modestly avoiding direct eye contact (I am married, after all!) I sat up a bit straighter and pedaled harder – athlete in training that I was.

Shortly, I noticed even more men looking at me. I was glowing now and my face was red from the exertion and the attention but my self-confidence skyrocketed. I might do this EVERY Sunday from now on!

All at once, the men let out a cheer.

Wait a minute. What’s going on here? I boldly looked at the men with a bit more focus and realized their gazes were, perhaps, not directed at me but . . . . just over my head.

I looked up and realized I was working out under the only TV playing that afternoon’s football game.

Oh, that makes more sense.

My husband is sometimes deluded, too.

He is a notorious packrat. He denies it but if it weren’t for me, he’d be one of those people that authorities find buried under piles of junk mail after neighbors report noticing a strange smell for several days.

One Sunday, in an effort to nudge him toward reformation, I excitedly held up an article from the paper.

“Look, honey, an article on hoarding!”

“Oooh, great!” He replied. “Save that.”

Hard to cling to the delusion after that exchange.

Delusions abound, these days, as anyone who watches the American Idol or America’s Got Talent auditions can attest. My mouth hangs open at the number of people who seem to seriously believe they have a chance at a million dollars with their talent of playing their armpit or dressing their toes as puppets or singing folk ballads deliriously off key while yodeling. Absolutely delusional.

There’s a song called Shifting Sand by Caedmon’s Call that opens with this line “Sometimes I believe all the lies so I can do the things I should despise.”

That song tells the sad truth about us. We often prefer our delusions.

God calls us on it in Psalm 4:2 “How long, O men, will you turn my glory into shame? How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?”

It’s easy to see why we love delusions. I enjoyed the delusion that my looks were worthy of a roomful of attention because it meant that maybe I wouldn’t have to work so hard at exercising. My husband likes the delusion that he isn’t a packrat because it means he doesn’t have to sort through, clean out, make decisions about what to throw away. Contestants on these reality shows like to believe the judges are biased, the game is fixed, or they’re ahead of their time because it means they don’t have to change their dreams, adjust their plans, get real jobs.

Yeah, delusions are beautiful things.

Except it’s the beauty of a poisonous flower.

Remember that sexy lingerie model played by Lara Flynn Boyle in Men in Black II who turned out to be an evil Kylothian monster? That’s exactly what a delusion is.

It comes on with that come hither look and legs that go up to there and convinces you it only has eyes for you. Then, just when it’s got you in a lip lock the smell of burning flesh fills the room and you realize those loving arms are tentacles and you’re in the death grip of some swamp thing that plans to pop you in the toaster oven, eat you and wash you down with a nice Chianti!

Now, the Men in Black have powerful weapons for dealing with evil Kylothian monsters and they have been trained not to be fooled, even when they’re dressed in Victoria’s Secrets’ finest.

We have weapons against delusions, too. God’s word is an amazing deception blaster. Prayer sucks the life right out lies and transparent relationships with mature believers provide a constant defense against stockpiling delusions banks.

And we can train ourselves, by obedience to God’s word and submission to His Spirit, to recognize delusions even when they’re dressed in silk stockings and spike heels.

OK,especially when they’re dressed in silk stockings and spike heels.

So I’ll keep exercising, my husband will keep sorting and Simon Cowell will keep disillusioning the untalented. It’s a good thing to fall out of love with our delusions.

The truth. That’s what’s beautiful, baby. The truth and nothing but.

Because, there’s nothing worse than kissing a Kylothian monster.