I do not have a problem with this person or that situation. I have an unacknowledged problem with myself. It’s like, as the carpenter explained, I have a two-by-four imbedded in my eye.
A scorpion asks a frog to ferry it across a river on the frog’s back. The frog hesitates, afraid of being stung, but the scorpion argues that if he did that, they would both drown. Thus persuaded, the frog agrees. Midway across the river, the scorpion stings the frog. “Why did you do that?” the frog asked. “It’s my nature,” replied the scorpion.”
This is how ego operates. It seems to make sense. But it loves death.
When we are blind to our primary fault, we do the right thing for the wrong reason. This corrupts everything. A root sin is tricky; it’s dressed up to look like a virtue.
A pornography habit will eventually chew the heart out of a relationship. There are more zombie marriages in the culture than we can know.
Habits are hard to break. (When was the last time you broke one?)
A man’s habits obscure his primary fault.
The ego thrives on conflict, courts and creates it, so that conflict becomes life’s chief feature, an unconscious, tumorous incessancy. Hands up, then, all who endure egomania.