Only Human

We're only human. I've often heard it as an excuse. It's said with a shrug of the shoulders, a sigh of resignation, or a tone of indignation. Humanity is synonymous with imperfection. It is the burden we all must bear.

But sometimes it isn't just an excuse. Sometimes it's a reminder. We all know in our heads that we are faulty beings with selfish inclinations. But what happens when we find ourselves in a position where we feel as if we must be more than "just human"? What happens when we find ourselves balancing the delicate and volatile lives of those who have come to see glimpses of God through our actions? What happens when we forget for an instant that we are only human and suddenly expect so much more than that from ourselves. And what happens when reality knocks us off our carefully constructed soap boxes and we're suddenly so much more human than we ever thought we were.

We wince a little. We look around, hoping nobody saw us fall; knowing everyone did. We then realize we're not the only ones on the floor, nor are people appalled at our plight. It isn't as bad as we think. So as we gaze through narrowed eyes at the unbecoming reflection of ourselves, we can feel a strange sense of relief. There's no need to be more than human to accomplish things for God. Look at all we have been able to do for Him already, messing up and falling down the entire way.

So in a way, I'm grateful for my humanity. For if there were no humanity, there would be no grace.