Disconnected Thoughts on Little Humans

People are so disappointing. Let's face it: we fail each other daily, hourly even. We're dishonest and manipulative and agenda-driven. We tell others what we think they want to hear, regardless of whether it's right, or true, or fair. Helpless and hopeless and broken. Wounded and lashing out, often at those we love the most, those who will stand by us. We're not great friends; we're not loyal spouses. Commitment, faithfulness, compassion, patience - these are not our strengths. Helpless and hopeless and broken.

But in the midst of the brokenness, there is a painful, painstaking beauty. A whisper of grace. A glimpse of mercy. A recognition that not everything is all broken all of the time. A thought that maybe we can hold the disappointment at bay just a little longer. Sometimes those are just whispers, just glimpses, fleeting, short-lived mirages. Other times, it seems as though we can capture the moments like fireflies in a jar, hold onto them for at least one night, to provide us with light until dawn.

For me, the mercy glimpses and grace whispers come in the form of little human creatures. This was entirely unexpected - anyone who's known me for more than a few years probably recalls that liking or knowing what to do with children has not always been my strong suit. But isn't that what mercy and grace are? Unanticipated, unwarranted, undeserved.

I've not entirely sorted this out yet, so I'm sure my theology is shaky, but I am becoming ever more convinced that there is a connection between this need for visible demonstrations of grace and why Christ came in little human creature form. Is there anything more beautiful and unexpected, precious and likely to catch a person off-guard? Captivating - and likely to catch everyone who held him, raised him, brought him up off guard with delight as he learned to roll over, did "face plants" while learning to crawl, went from speaking gibberish to "real" words, played hide and seek with his brothers? Little humans remind us to laugh, to not take ourselves too seriously, to go outside and play hide and seek once in a while.

We learn to listen deeper, we learn to trust our instincts, we learn to pay closer attention when we are in the presence of children who rely on us. We come to rely on them.

I have relied on the little creatures in my life the past few years, especially the past year or so. I had no idea how knowing - not just having, but knowing - my niece would change my life. From finding out what happens when I forget to feed her to discovering how easily things disintegrate when I let her run through the house with waffles in her little hands. From waiting for her body to relax into a much-needed to nap to wanting to poke her awake so I can see that look of recognition and delight on her freshly-rested face. And I didn't think it was possible to love anyone as much as I loved my niece...until I was blessed with another one.

Helpless and hopeless and broken. And then: Unanticipated, unwarranted, undeserved. What love.