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On Being Human

Puerto Rico Sunset

What is being human really about anyway?

Thinking back to when I was a child, I was wild, out of control, wanting to be loved but fearing it at the same time, unsure of myself, fearing rejection, dressing to be noticed but wanting no one to notice me, contrary but agreeable to please.
How does that compare with who I am today? Tame — okay, well, somewhat tame, still wanting to be loved but having some fear of being hurt either intentionally or unintentionally, more sure of myself but still questioning some things I do, fearing rejection, dressing for comfort, contrary but mainly to incite questions and make people think about what they say.
I wonder what Jesus thought to Himself as the people around Him rejected His love, His word, His very presence. Did He ever feel depressed at being misunderstood? Did He ever wonder why people didn’t want the best love one could find in the whole world?
He didn’t worry about wearing a tie to the synagogue – sandals and a tunic were good enough. He spoke what was in His heart and yet was careful not to come across as brash.
Only His and the Father’s love propelled Him to continue His work among humanity — the very people who would nail Him to a cross.
Humanity. Sometimes we just don’t get it. We’re all basically the same – the same needs and wants but on different rings of a ladder.
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