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Love the Most

I accept the Author Confession challenge for February 1st – to write about what I love the most. I can think of a dozen or more ways with which to introduce myself in sharing what I’m passionate about. I hope it doesn’t, but this may be likened to those times when one casually asks how another is feeling and they begin to describe every ache, pain and ailment ad nauseum. So, I apologize up front for my brutal honesty.

Being a professing Christian, I wish I could confess that what I love the most is God. I do love God. I could probably spin this narrative in a way that would make it seem like the love of my life is God, writing about God or serving Him. I can find examples of times and efforts that might convince the casual observer God definitely holds the ultimate position in my life. I would be obeying the first commandment which, as Christ pointed out, is the greatest of the commandments along with loving one’s neighbor as oneself. I fall short too often to declare either as priority.

I love my wife and I love my family. I would like to think if push came to shove, I’d give my life for any one of my family. I can say that I have sacrificed things, time, opportunities, and especially financially for members of my family without regret. I know and have experienced the benefits of loving, honoring and submitting to the needs of family members like unity in the home, reciprocated love and respect, and peace and joy. But I cannot wholeheartedly say that any of them have first place of the things I love.

I truly do enjoy writing. I can be lost to the rest of the world enthralled in creating a story.  I often start early in the morning rising before the sun does and work without breakfast, through lunch, even denying my bladder, not cognizant of the time or nature’s call. To declare this as my passion, my most beloved would be believable, but deceptive.

What am I truly passionate about? I will answer it as the climax to the post. I am passionate about free time – doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. I fight it every day.  Many times, I make the sacrifices and do the dutiful thing. I have noticed, now that I am retired, that I engage in this passion more often than when I was employed and especially, than when I was employed and raising kids. The weird thing is, I get more pleasure and even a greater sense of pride if I can help someone else, be an encouragement to someone, or make someone’s day better.  Yet, almost too often, I chose to please me. I’ll watch an old movie, draw a picture that serves no useful purpose at all, or play an online game or two.  I sometimes have to apologize to another for not meeting a request or need because I engaged in self-gratification too long. Most of the time, I am truly sorry.

I am not saying I am proud of it. I am not endorsing this. I know better. This passion of my desperately wicked heart produces mostly useless, wasteful time and more guilt than pleasure afterwards.  I do love God. I love my family and some of the people I worship with. I greatly enjoy helping others and I’d like to think my writing encourages or entertains.  But, I know my heart and I know that what I desire most is selfish indulgence.

The positive part of this self-examination is that it is a reminder of how much I need something outside of myself to prod me into more selfless behaviors. My wife needs for me to love her like Christ loves the church. My family needs some of my time so I can honor my parents and not provoke my children to hate. This knowledge of the good and evil in me proclaims loudly how much I need to heed the urging of God’s Spirit in me to do good.  Don’t misunderstand, a little self-indulgence is healthy and necessary. I understand the adage of “all work and no play,” but I am capable of taking it to ill-fated extremes.  It is a constant prompt that like a poor lost lamb, alone without a shepherd, the urging of my own heart leads me astray, capable of  as much prejudice, hatred, ego, abuse as any other man.  My life matters, but not more than a criminal or a cleric. This author’s confession: I still love me more than is even healthy for me and am gravely in need of God’s presence and guidance every day to parse out the right dose of selfish indulgence that balances with the rest of a healthy, fulfilling life.

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Categories: writer's life

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Douglas Knight

I write about what I'm thinking or what I've imagined in an effort to regain that childhood imagination and marry with my many years of real experiences. I'm getting better at it the more I write.I am a published author of two romantic intrigue novels.My books can be found at or if you want a personalized copy, by emailing me at

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