An Honerable Man: for Wm Jefferson Clinton

What I admire and trust most about another human being is their authenticity. I highly prize the qualities that make a persona come across as real, genuine. We craft & create but there is something about real people that makes their carefully crafted mask not so crafted, but a part of the whole, a natural extension of soul into personality, spirit into man....
And real people have flaws. Perfection still remains in the realm of the divine. Real people are self revealing, childlike in their vulnerability, regardless of how strong a figure they project, no matter how strong they may be, they wear see thru clothes in their revealing dance, the hero and the villain entwined on the floor of life spinning, wrapped up in the denim & silk of everything in between.
Those amongst us who grow into larger than life human beings, doing far more than the average, leaving legacies filled with ways in which they left the world greatly altered and improved by their being. Their contribution to humanity entered and honored in the archives of time......where they always grow better in our eyes in age and death...
They have flaws often as large and obvious as their greatness, co-existing in view for all the world to see. Brave courageous men and women who proudly wear the scars of their humanity, the marks of who they are. They dress in clothes as Kings and Queens but stand naked before us, their pain, their heartache, their most grievous mistakes paraded for judgement before our rabid eyes so eager to pounce, forgetting the log in our own eye, their fall from grace plastered across the face of our every day.
Yes, my heros are real...authentically strong and authentically weak, aware of the whole, the connected, the larger picture of purpose. Their failings but tools to carve them out, deepening, their understanding, germinating their wisdom.
Give me real and flawed and utterly dependent on God’s Great Grace.