I just want to be human. I don’t want to strive to be a god, or even the best human that ever lived. I want to discover what it really means to be human.
Is being a human about making much of oneself or about making much of those around you, making much of God? I’ve never really thought much about the difference. The world at large doesn’t ask this question and I didn’t either. Besides, I had a plan of my own to work out–it should all work perfect, I thought.
But, to my chagrin, my plan didn’t end up very human. It didn’t have room for loneliness or despair, joy or community. It reflected my need to not acknowledge my humanness. It made me somewhat dull and certainly dormant, but I thought it made me look complete and should naturally make me feel that way.
No such luck! It was a disaster. It forced me not to feel and not to see. It insisted that I live for myself and leave everyone else behind. It told me I had to make something of myself at all costs; I couldn’t afford to turn out being nothing. No one else could save me from that fate but myself. So, I took it upon myself to make me number 1 on my own list.
It made sense, I thought. Why shouldn’t I be number one? It would be impossible to think of myself as number 2 or some other fairly insignificant number. How else could I get to the top? How else could I matter?
That was the real question: How could I matter? I didn’t know how I mattered, so I thought I had to make up something to prove that I did. I thought I needed to construct a platform that made me seem important enough and proficient enough to be wanted, to be known.
What I really was was lonely. I needed love, but I didn’t know where to find it. I thought since it didn’t seem to exist, maybe I could conjure it up–the only problem was that I didn’t believe my own lie. My heart echoed a rhythm far, far out there; something I didn’t understand, but wanted all the same. Something I needed to find; something that would make all my seeking matter.
When I found the source of that rhythm I found that I mattered because Who I sought mattered. I mattered because the One I sought made me seek Him. I mattered because I belonged with Someone who wanted me. I mattered because He sought me with the call of His rhythm–what we call love.