Hopelessly Human

I hear it all the time. 

"You're only human," or "That was only human of him."  "It sucks, but what else was she supposed to do?"

I think it, too.

We're hopelessly human, locked in a pattern of thinking and way of living, the same that we've been in for thousands of years.

We make a valiant effort to fix it, though.  We recognize that the label of "human" is something beautiful and special, but seriously flawed.  We appreciate our individuality and talent but despise our selfishness and closed mindedness.  In America, we've found a new remedy, a band-aid for our human existence.  In the thousands of years humans have been around, no one's thought of this before.  If we could only grasp it, we could be great.  Humanity and the world would flourish and there would be no more fighting.

I'm not sure what to call our remedy, but I can think of a few words to describe it:  open-mindedness, tolerance, acceptance, losing yourself in the vastness and beauty of the universe.  People are complicated.  I really can't be so arrogant to claim that I actually know what they're thinking, but this is what I see.

They also say, "Why can't everyone just agree?"

That would be nice. But we can't.  Because we're hopelessly human.

Humans will fight.  They will kill.  They have a cause.  (What do you think fuels the killing?) They will inevitably place themselves above others.  They'll break down.  They'll seek meaning.  They'll seek love.  They'll seek purpose.  They'll seek relief from the messed up world they find themselves in, only to find that it's all really just a delicate balance between pleasure and pain (the ancient philosophers had the right idea, it seems).

They'll think their ideas are their own and that since they think them, they exist. They'll think that their world is all about finding their place and living a happy, meaningful life.  Then they'll fear that their life will end up meaning nothing at all.

But really, what can we do about it?  We are, after all, only human.  We make and break resolutions.  We see self-improvement and subsequently fail.  Some people, not so many people, find the amazing willpower that is within man and wield it to achieve their goals.

But for what?  I mean, they die and they're dead.  A few make an indelible mark on the history of humanity.  Many have improved the lives of their posterity through their sacrifice.  But really, though, for what?  Other humans?  Humans can't be worth that much.  After all, they're only human.

So I've been thinking, I don't really like being human.  When I'm honest with myself, I hate the fight, the hopelessness, the pain.  I hate seeing other humans in futile turmoil as well.  I think I would like to be an immortal vampire, or an angel, or maybe a star or a bird or a tree.  I even entertain the idea of being a cat sometimes . . . anything but human.

I think maybe half of the teenage girls in America are with me on the vampire thing.

Okay, I'm kidding, I don't really want to be a vampire. Well, mostly kidding.  Stephenie Meyer's version doesn't seem so bad.

Anyway . . .

That was my brain on the surface.  Then I dig deeper and meditate my existence and what it means in light of my Creator . . .

. . . and wow, then everything changes.

I was riding my bike the other day and thinking/praying/talking to God (this happens a lot), "Gosh, Lord, humans are lame, I'm so thankful that You're changing me and I'm becoming less human . . . "

Then I stopped.  (The thought, not my bike, silly.)

I realized that my definition of human was gravely unsound.  I didn't understand humans as they are meant to be.  I confused the words "physical" and "flesh" with "human."  Just because I live in the physical in my flesh (and so does everyone else around me), doesn't mean that's all that we are.

No, I was wrong.  Humans are spiritual beings just as much as they are physical.  Dwelling with God and allowing Him to change me from the inside out and open my spiritual eyes does NOT make me less human.  It makes me more human.  He's transforming me into who He created me to be.  A human.

I mentioned meditating on my existence in light of my Creator a second ago and how it changes everything.  It totally does.  It turns the idea of human existence and everything we think about it on its head.

The whole thing is actually pretty epic.

I mean for one, I'm immortal.  I think that's significantly epic.  Humans were made to be immortal, which kind of explains why we wish we had it so much.  Then we lost our immortality.  How?  Why, by being hopelessly human, of course!  We're only human after all, what else could we have done?

If immortality wasn't enough, I fight battles every day.  Sometimes saving lives without knowing it.  I put on armor every morning and secretly consult with the One who knows everything.

Why do I fight battles?  Who do I fight them for?  I fight them for my King.  The one who died for me.  The one who gave my mind freedom and my heart peace.  Freedom and peace.  That's all we humans live for, isn't it?  I fight them for his Kingdom, to protect his people, so they can have this freedom and peace and immortality, too.

He is my King, and I love him oh so much.  I would die for him.  Well, I feel that and I say that, but . . . I am, after all, only human.

All of this to say, I've been trying to be human in the sense of a physical human.  A human that does stuff, that accomplishes things, that makes conversation, eats food, and has a jolly time, overall.

I was recognizing that things aren't always working out, and I often can't really handle it.  I can't be successful on my own.  I am, after all, only human.

It is my Creator who empowers me.  He gives me life, breath, purpose, profound understanding, comfort, and most importantly, Himself.

When I follow him and spend time with him and give him glory for all of the amazing things He's done and is doing, things go well.  Soon enough, I forget that it's in him that I live and move and breath, and I start taking credit. I start going my own way and doing my own thing. That doesn't work out so well.

I am, after all, only human.  Hopelessly incompetent of any meaning or purpose on my own.  But I wasn't made to be meaningless.  None of us were.  Right now we look so hopelessly human, but that's only because we haven't been filled with the only Hope that we humans have: the redeeming life and grace and Salvation that our Creator has for us. 

Wow, there's an epic story unfolding right before my eyes. . .