Idols don’t just magically appear. It may seem to us that they snuck into our lives out of nowhere. We may tell others that they came to us of their own accord. We may protest that we had nothing to do with them, but that is precisely the trickiness of idols.
Our idols are formed out of things that are precious to us and the fires of discontent. They are the distorted offspring of love and hate, of deep beauty and superficial sparkle. We end up with idols when something good becomes malformed by our inner restlessness and outward complaining.
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