I love my own species – humans. At a very early age I began to enjoy Disneyland for a reason other than the rides even though I still did like the Matterhorn and Peter Pan very much. It was the people. Back then folks came to the Magical Kingdom in their native dress; the garb in which they had grown up. Mixed with those colors were the Disney employees in lederhosen, cowboy hats, and girls in crinoline skirts from the Blue Bayou restaurant. People watching became my favorite part of the experience.
When I look at the blessing God has given us in self assurance it is a wonder to me. I could have been born a rabbit, ducking under a bush at the slightest movement of another animal. Or a Chihuahua that barks at the least noise from a Postman’s foot. Or a shark that MUST find out what that other beast is doing in HIS territory. Rather, I was born human with a mind, a soul, and a body in which to walk it all around on the face of the earth.
Money, though it doesn’t take a lot anymore, has given me the privilege of exploring much of the world we inhabit. I’ve seen the ugly side in many countries. The Chinese man smoking through his tracheotomy in Hong Kong, the pirates attacking innocent tourists in the Philippines, the French shoe salesman trying to take my wife to dinner while I recuperated from food poisoning back at the hotel. The poverty in Mexico on dirt streets lined by houses built of scrap wood and left over plastics.
I have seen great beauty from Spain to Hawaii. Coral reefs with incredible animals that had trees blossoming out of their slimy backs. Horses in Andalusia of magnificent lines. Parrots and parakeets, and blue jays, and meadowlarks, and robins under every color of the rainbow. Indeed rainbows themselves including a double one under which my Navy ship seemed to sail. Waterfalls in the jungle no other human had seen in a hundred years. Parents adoring their children. Children falling in love with Mickey Mouse and his hug.
And in all of this I either missed my contact with humans when they were absent or loathed it when they were horrible to me or someone else. But, I never found them boring. Every single one had a story to tell. Often, when she or he told them honestly, they were profoundly unique and fascinating. The most compelling were those that had never been told before. The most precious were spoken in prayers of supplication and were then provisioned by a gracious God. Completion came in expressions of gratitude.
I admire the handiwork of God in all this. The poor hawk circles the sky, day in and day out, to catch a rat running across the ground. The terrified rat being carried aloft. The flea on the back of the rat that finds itself in the wind. None of them have that human recognition of something beyond their daily life. We are so incredibly blessed to know that He created us with love and understanding. A love so complete that He forgives us now and forever for our failings though He understands them all. This alone is enough to encourage us to do more for Him, do better, do our mission as He designed us.
A Guy Named Bob 