How do you let a broken, lost, angry fool lead you?
The majority of my 20 years on Earth have been spent trying to run away from this type of authority. Surely those who can’t even manage to keep their own lives from falling apart don’t have any room to tell me how I should be living mine. What wisdom is there to learn from foolishness?
For a long time I thought my resentment of authority stemmed from a lack of respect for those I was called to be under. More specifically, I hated that I was burdened with the arduous task of obeying my parents, two people who were frankly the farthest thing from who I wanted to be.
Growing up, I would often jokingly claim to be adopted when asked about my family. While it came off as a sarcastic jab at our differences, this was my not-so-subtle way of distancing myself from a selfish, cruel mother and an angry, stubborn father. I couldn’t stand being compared to my parents, and I didn’t want people to think that just because I was raised by them, I was like them. I had to keep others from looking at perfect, saintly Jason as an extension of his imperfect family. Humble eh?