This is something that I've always known in my head, but last week, this truth danced around in front of me and I realized for the first time how true it really is.
And then last week, I spent a total of 28 hours with the same five or six people. We all had various jobs to do, and those jobs were made alternately easier and harder, depending on who exactly was doing the job. I tried to make it easy (not shoddy or lazy, just common sense stuff) and I felt like some other people went the scenic route to complete the task.
It was Thursday when I realized that I am human, just like everyone else. I think because I've lived so much of my life secluded in the bubble that is church, I had forgotten just how human I was. And when I say human, I really mean sinful, but I'm not necessarily referring to "actively committing acts of sin" but rather "possessing an active sinful nature". Using the word human--in my mind--conveys this better, but in case you were confused...
Anyway, there I was, trying my best to be a small beacon of God's true light in this dark world, when I do something kinda absent-minded. In the setting of church, with other Christian brothers and sisters around, no one would have thought twice of it. But since I wasn't in that setting, I felt my human-ness amplified and judged. I made the simple comment to one of the other ladies, "I'm sorry. I'm only human, too." The look of judgment and condemnation fled and in its place appeared shame and embarrassment. If I would venture a guess, I would say shame because she realized I at least attempted a solution to the specific problem and she had just sat there playing on her phone. Embarrassment also, because she realized she had no place to judge.
As I stood there, I realized that I am human, just like the rest of those ladies. The only difference between us was that my final, eternal destination was different. They all claimed to be good Christians, but when I pressed they seemed defensive. Since I knew I would be spending a good deal of time with them, I wanted them to see the difference in my life rather than me trying to cram a difference down their throats.
Not only does my future look different, I have help along the way. Around church people, we kinda all (seem to) rely on God to a certain extent, and then try to make it on our own the rest of the way. But we're all relying on God and doing it ourselves at the same rate, so my particular "doing it myself" doesn't really stand out to me. (And neither does anyone else's.) But last week around those people who are only doing it themselves and not relying on God at all, my relying stuck out like a sore thumb--meaning I also noticed when I blended in with everyone else in the doing it myself department.
I don't want to blend it. I want to stand out. I actually do enjoy being different, because it means that Jesus is alive and well in my life. Sometimes I forget to ask Him for help, and in those times, He's harder to see. If I didn't learn anything else last week, I am glad I spent all that time with (moral) sinners because I was reminded that I wasn't any different from them unless I ask my Saviour for help, which apparently I need to do a lot more often.
What about you? How does spending quantity time with the world change your perspective?