Being Human

There are moments in life when we realize we were hurt, but we also realize we hurt others.

Recently, after an emotional outburst that followed a long season of staying silent, I prayed a simple prayer:

“God, help me mend the relationships that have been shaken.”

I expected God to show me what everyone else had done wrong.

Instead, He gently showed me my own heart.

Not to shame me.

Not to condemn me.

But to remind me that I am human.

That realization led me to Psalms 90, 91, and 92. Together, they told one story.

Psalm 90 reminded me that life is short and that none of us gets everything right. We are fragile, emotional, and imperfect people trying to navigate a complicated world. Instead of dwelling on my failures, the psalm invited me to ask for wisdom. Every mistake can become a teacher if we allow it.

Psalm 91 reminded me that even when I disappoint others or myself, I am not abandoned. God remains my refuge. Before I seek validation, understanding, or forgiveness from anyone else, I can rest in the truth that I am already held by Him. His presence is not earned by perfection. It is received through trust.

Then came Psalm 92, which shifted my focus from regret to growth. It paints a picture of a life that continues to bear fruit because it remains rooted in God. It reminded me that maturity is not about never falling. It is about continuing to grow after you do.

Together, these three psalms taught me something I hope I never forget.

Life will humble you.

People will misunderstand you.

You will misunderstand yourself.

You will have moments you’re proud of and moments you wish you could take back.

But none of those moments have the final word.

The final word belongs to the God who is everlasting, who shelters the weary, and who continues His work in us.

Healing doesn’t begin when everyone agrees with your perspective.

It begins when you have the courage to let God reveal your own heart.

That doesn’t mean carrying guilt forever.

It means taking responsibility where you need to, extending grace where you can, and trusting God with the parts you cannot repair on your own.

As I grow older, I’m becoming less interested in being right and more interested in becoming wise.

Less interested in protecting my pride and more interested in protecting my peace.

Less interested in proving myself and more interested in remaining rooted in the One who never changes.

The beauty of these three psalms isn’t that they promise a life without pain.

They promise something even better.

That through every season, God remains everlasting.

He is my refuge.

He is my protector.

He is my strength.

And because of that, I can keep growing.