People

For the past couple of years, my opinion of the human race has been subterranean at best.

Out of all of God's creations, we are the broken ones. We are the ones God chose to give His breath, yet we are the ones who choose to wave off His perfect wisdom in favor of our own pitiful ideas. We can't ever get it right, and lots of times we don't even want to. We cause explosions every day, and most times we already know the consequences. We cower and cry for ourselves as our shrapnel flies out, sticking and stinging anyone nearby. We're all battered and scarred, and it's our own fault. We've heard of the solution to our pain, but we don't want to give it up. We're all addicted to the drug of our own choices. 

Why on earth would God still want us? 

I cannot dare to claim that I deserve God's love, that I deserve for Him to want to talk with me and hold me and teach me, yet He does. I read the stories in the Old Testament of the Israelites who screw up over and over and over and over again. And every time, after He punishes them like any good father would, He reminds them, "I have loved you" (Malachi 1:2). 

For the past couple of years, I just couldn't see why.

I work at the Counseling Center at my college. Most days, I just make copies or print flyers or play my occasional daily round of Candy Crush. However, if someone comes in needing help, I get to tutor them. A few weeks ago, a girl came in asking for assistance. As we sat together, I tried my best to explain the material. I talked and used my hands and tried to think up good examples, but no matter what I did, she just stared at me with a blank look on her face. I wasn't even sure she was listening, much less understanding anything I said, and I found myself growing frustrated with her. Then all of a sudden, this thought popped into my head: God created her.

Suddenly, I remembered that God knit her together in her mother's womb. I imagined Him forming every finger, counting each hair on her head. I remember that He loves her so very deeply that He sacrificed for her. I remembered that He knows her. And He wants her to know Him. He wants to laugh with her and ache with her and live every single day with her.
And all of a sudden, I  loved her.

I tried it again later. I picked a random person and simply began to think about God creating and loving and knowing him, and it happened again. My heart swelled and my eyes pricked with tears. I loved him, too.

I kept trying it. I tried seeing people through God's eyes, imagining Him molding them and knowing them and loving them. I tried it with family and friends and strangers, and every single time, I found myself falling in love with them. I can't seem to help loving those whom my greatest Love adores.

These past several weeks, God has been changing my opinion about people.  I've started seeing things I never noticed. Like how people have invented dry-erase markers and toaster ovens and the internet. Like how we smile when someone tells a joke or roll our eyes when we're annoyed. How we pick the people we like and hug and kiss and high five. How we make up songs and stories. How we skateboard and build campfires and paint masterpieces.

Mostly I've been thinking about how each person has a story.

Sometimes when I'm driving, I look at the people in the cars I pass, and sometimes, for a second, our eyes connect. For that single second, we have a relationship. I find myself wondering about their story, who they are, what they've seen, why they are.

I've been thinking that maybe people aren't as crummy as I thought before. We're actually kind of incredible.

We each have our own minds. We have our own thoughts and emotions, senses of humor and senses of pain. We connect with other people. We humans become this web of connections, relationships. We share thoughts and emotions. Our lives spread out and start to smear together. Our souls connect and spark like static electricity. Billions of people have stood on earth and returned to dust, and each one was alive, with a sparking soul and a smearing life.

I don't say that with an ounce of pride. When I start admiring and loving people, I don't hear God clearing His throat with eyebrows raised, scolding me for forgetting that He is the One who created everyone, that He is the One who instills abilities and keeps the breath flowing through our lungs. Actually I hear Him agreeing with me. Tears spring to my eyes as in the deepest part of my soul, I hear Him say, "Yes. You get it." I think He tears up right along with me.

I cannot deny that people are flawed; I've experienced it firsthand. But we are beautiful, too. We are God's masterpiece, His greatest, most favorite creation. We are the ones He chose to die for. We are the ones He gave His breath. He loves us, and I think He wants us to love us. After all, loving people is number two on His list of things to do (Matthew 22:37-39).

When I love and admire people, I'm not applauding their merits, I'm worshiping God. I'm acknowledging that He is a magnificent, brilliant, creative maker.
I love these things He makes.