When Our Heros Die (i.e., prove to be human)

Yesterday, I learned some things about someone who I hold very dear. I look up to this person, and I hope to one day achieve a fraction of the personal success and maturity that I've witnessed and sensed. This is truly one of my heros.

I learned that my hero wasn't as perfect a human being as I'd always imagined. My hero wasn't the greatest, the best, the fastest, or the smartest. My hero isn't the most loving, the most devoted, the most virtuous, or the most honest. My hero may not even be above average, but my hero is mine.

I wonder what it would be like if at age 10 or 11 I realized that my father was lying to me…or I realized he was a criminal…or I realized that he was immoral. I can’t imagine how that would crush a boy. But I kinda felt this way with the death of my hero.

When our heroes die, we are reminded of our own humanity…our own mortality. We are reminded that we are sinful, creatures who are dependant upon a loving God and not upon our own ability.