Simply Human

Do you remember the first time you realized your parents were human?

I was 8 years old and Frank was one of my best friends. Frank loved cars and he owned about every Matchbox car ever made (hundreds of them) and he built elaborate racetracks which enveloped his entire living room in a web of orange plastic strips. I went over to house to play with him after school and we would race for hours until Frank's dad came home from work.

And while the racing was fun, the massive, 200-car Matchbox pileup which happened at the end of each day at the track, was even better. Frank loved that part the most, too. And he would bring out his toy tow truck and start picking up all the Matchbox wrecks, car by car, and deliver each one to his Hot Wheels garage for repair. Miraculously, no Matchbox drivers were ever killed.

The reason Frank liked this part of our playtime was because his dad drove a tow truck for a living.  Frank thought that this was the greatest vocation a man could have.  His dad's tow truck was awesome, all decked out in red and polished steel, wielding a massive wench, and it glowed with scores of orange lights.  It was a breathtaking sight, especially when Frank's dad came home at night. It looked like an alien spacecraft landing in his driveway.

Frank truly loved his dad and would often boast about how cool his dad’s tow truck was, or how smart his dad was, or how how strong his dad was. In short, Frank thought his dad was the greatest man on the planet.

This was a real problem for me, because I knew my dad was the greatest man on the planet. I believed my dad was virtually indestructible and that he was the strongest, toughest man in the world.  What Frank was saying about his father was absolute blasphemy!

And then, it began to dawn on me. I thought, "Frank’s dad prowls the highway searching for twisted wreckage while driving four tons of metal-moving power.  My dad, is a salesman for Hostess and drives a step van filled with Ding Dongs.  Franks dad goes to work wearing a utility belt.  My dad marches in the Apple Festival parade dressed as a 6'3'' Twinkie.  Could it be that my dad is not the strongest, toughest man on the planet ...?"

The Superman image of I had constructed of my father was beginning to collapse.  I started to panic as this stark new reality set in. So, I did the only thing I could.

I lied.

“Your dad may drive a wrecker, Frank, but my dad’s so strong, he broke out of jail with his bare hands!”

“His bare hands?” Frank asked.

“Yep!  His bare hands!  He bent the bars with his bare hands and broke out of prison. And  ... he beat up some police officers on the way out and he’s gonna come over to your house and beat up your dad, too!”

In less than a minute, I had transformed my dad from Twinkie the Kid into Billy the Kid.

Frank ran home terrified and crying. Strangely, I felt relieved by that.

As a child, I had this need for my father to be the greatest man on the planet. I needed him to be good, strong, and invincible; so much so, that when that notion was challenged, I would not accept it.  When we are youngest and most vulnerable, God provides His care for most of us through our parents.  So, it makes sense to me that we can see our parents as ultimately strong protectors and providers.  They, in a sense, become "God-like" to us.

There’s a verse in 1st Corinthians Chapter 13:

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.”

For me, one of the childish ways I needed to give up was thinking my father had to be more than he humanly could be.

Looking back, I realize that my parents did many, many good things that molded me positively as I grew up. They loved me and I knew this.  But the truth is, along the way, they did a few things that were painful for me, too. They made some mistakes. They messed a few things up from time to time; just like I do sometimes in parenting my children.

But when I became a man ... I realized that my parents are human.

My parents are humans who try to make their way, doing the best they can in a broken and hurting world. They are humans who are in need of much forgiveness and much Grace.  Just like me.  Just like you. Just like all of us. The Good News is that our ultimately strong and perfect Father in Heaven offers unlimited Grace, love, and forgiveness to us freely.

And this wonderful reality allows me to love and forgive others freely while allowing God to be God and myself, my parents, and others to be human.