“I” for an “I”

“I” for an “I” (1,134)

May 2nd, 2011

I am human. I am fine with that. And it works terrifically until I go through a phase where I want to be a god. Other times I seem to be perfectly satisfied to be a monkey. But actually, I am an ingenious blending of the two—human.

The reason most people don’t get along with other folks is that in the pursuit of trying to establish uniqueness, they look for differences instead of similarities. It’s why marriages break up, it’s why churches are in conflict and certainly it is why wars erupt, following numerous warnings and rumors.

I am human. I share everything in common with you—everything that matters. And this falls mainly into three categories: (1) What I require; (2) what I admire, and (3) what I desire. Once I discover what I, as a human being, require, admire and desire, it makes it much easier to understand the path that you, my fellow-traveler, select.

Because I will tell you that every human being on the face of the earth requires attention. We may insist that we want to be alone, but if we pursue that path, it ends up driving us crazy in some way, shape or form. Because of this—this requirement for attention—people are even willing to do evil and dark deeds, in order to gain a moment’s notice. We require attention.

I know this about myself, so I’m not about to spend more than five minutes with anyone without letting them know that I have at least a passing interest in what they are doing and what they are. I require it—therefore I know that you require it.

What I admire is success. It doesn’t mean I am successful all the time. It doesn’t even mean I’m willing to pay the price for success. But it does mean that when my head is on straight, I want to hear about successful adventures instead of commiserating with losers. And because I admire success, I know that you do, too. We may have sympathy for those who fail; we may even sense empathy. But no one admires people who fall short—even when they have really good reasons for taking the dip. So when I’m around you, I will share my recent success and admire yours. Finally, what I desire is ease. Oh, I know there are people who insist they love hard work, but they will also follow that statement with a sigh, a frown, a proclamation of exhaustion or lamentation over “being too busy.”

We all like it to be easy. That’s why Jesus told us that if we take on his burden, it will be easy. He didn’t say it was going to be hard—because human beings will not tolerate tribulation just to prove a point. We don’t make good martyrs. If we are placed in a position where the burden is heavy, we take it out on ourselves somewhere else.

I desire ease. And because I know this about myself, when I work with you, I find a way to make our task interesting and fun—because bluntly, no one’s coming back for a second crack at the game if it’s too impossible to actually score.

· I require attention. So do you.

· I admire success. Likewise for those around me.

· I desire ease. I’m not lazy, but I know my friends and family grow weary in well-doing. It’s just the way we’re made.

For we have enough God in us that we think we should be smart enough to be free from a heavy load. And we have enough monkey in us that sometimes our stupidity causes us to haul too many bananas.

When we find the balance of being human, we can admit that we require attention, we admire success and we desire ease. And once we know that about ourselves, we can smile and know that everyone we meet is no different and therefore are our brothers and sisters.

This enables us to move into a realm where we have an “I” for an “I.” We have placed ourselves in a position to enter our final phase: “I love you.”