Illusions of Grandeur

I want to know Christ. I want you to see him in my eyes, my love, my tears, my laughter. I want him to emanate from me in such a way that when you see me you will be attracted not to me, but to Jesus in me. I want to see past your skin and into the soul that lies beneath. I do not care that you are scarred or obnoxious or slow or angry; I will love you regardless of who you are. This desire to be like Jesus is very real, coming from deep inside of me. But how much do I really want to be like him? I want the result without the work that goes with it. I am like a person who wishes to lose weight, yet has no intention of dieting. I want to be like Christ, yet I do not have an interest in studying his words or in spending more than two minutes talking to him. In my mind I will wash your feet, even breathe my last in service for you. But give me a real person to serve and my desire turns to disdain. I never wanted to be this way. Is this yearning inside of me no more than an empty, meaningless desire? I will be like Jesus in my fantasies, but what has that to do with real life? Christ, change me.