Although I do not oversee all that Ben does on the computer, I feel pretty safe. You Tubes of Batman, clips of Toy Story, math games and stories about Wall-e are his favorites. He even researches the names of people who are the voices of his preferred characters. Last night he informed me that Ben Burt is the man behind both Mo and
R-2-D-2.
One time I looked over his shoulder to see him designing a hero. With a click he could change the hair, the weapon, or the armor, add wings or a cape. He has also done it with skimpily clad female heroes, though I think he is still pretty innocent. The program enables the player to have complete control over the characteristics of the action figure. Ben likes this.
I admit to wishing I could do this to a few people in my
life.
"You are great, except for this one thing...." My fingers itch to find the mouse that will empower me to swap out their tendency to do X when I would prefer they do Y. Ironically, the obsession keeps me from noticing all the perfectly lovely qualities of that person. Time after time my attention zeros in on the part I want to change.
Take John. There are a list of habits that have been around a long time which I will not
mention because, hey, that is precisely what I am trying to let go of. But they are small potatoes compared to his stellar attributes, like thriftiness, trust in God, patience with Benjamin, steel trap mind for remembering doctrine, sense of humor, faithfulness in his job, calm demeanor in an emergency, patience with a wife who is not calm in an emergency.
When I step back from the scenario of Design a Hero on a desk top, I notice that the One who actually could
change my hair color in a trice, doesn't. God could on a whim transform my eyes, economic status, and capacity for compassion. But He isn't even tempted. It would seem that He wants me to be part of choosing the changes.
Good idea.
