Abe Lincoln... and Me?

A few weeks ago, I read a book about Abraham Lincoln entitled "Team of Rivals." It was a well written and well researched book that was focused in on Lincoln's Political genius, especially evidenced by his interaction with his Cabinet. It was a good read, and I would recommend it.

In attempting to establish his character and how his personality was shaped, the author (a lady whose name I have forgotten) was describing his seemingly sad or even depressed appearance. Among the many descriptions of Lincoln from his contemporaries, the word "melancholy" kept coming up over and over again. The author was attempting to offer a better understanding of made Lincoln give off this particular "air," and in so doing, I felt she actually helped me to see my own heart a little more clearly.

Lincoln, she suggested, was particularly intelligent and keenly observant. He was enormously ambitious. He was gifted with an insight that penetrated past initial impressions or circumstances. He was also very richly emotional and empathetic, loving deeply and feeling the most intense pain and sorrow on the behalf of friends and acquaintances. Finally, he possessed a self-effacing sense of humor that allowed him to temper the deep sorrow or pains his heart would hold within.

Now, I am not for a moment putting myself on a pedestal with possibly the most profound American character of the 19th century. I am not even saying that I fully understand exactly how I tick or exactly how Lincoln's mind worked. What I am saying is that as I read these few paragraphs, I had to pause and consider things.

You see, I wrestle mightily in my heart with a sometimes terrible maelstrom of emotion. In fact, there are times it is more like a tortured existence. From what I can tell, my personality is... extreme. I am aggressive by nature, competitive, and when I believe I am right about an idea or course of action, I will not be dissuaded (no matter the severity of the battle or the odds against me). It can at times seem almost suicidal, but I can't let go until it is done, or my mind is changed. In a nice way, you could say I have an almost belligerent moral compass.

That's not all of me, though. Under this exterior, in a spot few get a glimpse of, I am deeply sensitive. I would suggest that I am pretty perceptive, as well. I deeply love friends and ache terribly when they hurt. Being that my closest of friends are so far removed geographically, this can become an oppressive ache of loneliness. As I have alluded in other posts, with my particular perspective or insight, it can be mighty lonely in even the most crowded rooms. Great art makes my soul sing, birthday cards make my eyes moist, and even minor kindnesses make it hard to speak. I doubt that too many people, if any, really see this in me, but I assure you, it is there.

Now, when I couple these two truths together, namely, that I am deeply sensitive and perceptive, but I have an almost reckless, inflexible notion of what is right and wrong, do you see the conflict brewing? I think that this is where my often hardened exterior comes from... it is a way of coping with the pressure that builds within. Lincoln used quaint humor and amusing stories to diffuse the pressure building in his soul, and maybe I harden myself as a defense. I try good old-fashioned humor, but often find it wanting or just too silly. So, my humor can seem pessimistic or sarcastic.

These past few years, I feel that I have been on quite a roller coaster of self-realization, and I feel that this is just another one of those realizations. You can't target the enemy until you have him in your crosshairs. So, I find myself trying to flesh out the inner workings of my soul, and soften those areas that have grown calloused or hard. How can I transform those things that are bitter or sharp into things that are sweet and healing? How can this personality, this soul, be redeemed in a full sense? It is a funny thing that we know so much about the surface of the moon, but a person's heart is so unsearchable.

Here is where I pray for more strength and understanding and wisdom. It is here that I must rely on the One who sees clearly and knows without error and provides strength in abundance for every good work. He made me, crafted me even, and He knows where the wires have been crossed. The journey may seem frightening, but true to form, I can not turn back or shirk the challenge.

That's just me.