Chuck Swindoll

The great apostle Paul was just like you and me . . . he had a love for God blended with feet of clay. Great passion . . . and great weakness.

The longer I thought about this concept, the more evidence emerged from Scripture to support it. Read Paul’s words to the Corinthians:

And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. (1 Corinthians 2:1-3)

“Aw, the guy is just being modest,” you answer. No, not when you compare these words with the popular opinion of him in his day:

His letters are weighty and strong, but his personal presence is unimpressive and his speech contemptible. (2 Corinthians 10:10)

That’s quite a shock. The man didn’t have it all together—he wasn’t perfect—and (best of all) he didn’t attempt to hide it! He admitted to his friends in Corinth that he was weak, fearful, and even trembling when he stood before them. I admire such transparency. Everybody does . . . if it’s the truth.

... Without hiding a bit of his humanity (see Romans 7 if you still struggle believing he was a cut above human), Paul openly declared his true condition. He had needs and admitted them.

He didn't have everything in life wired perfectly . . . and he didn’t hide it. Servants are like that. Immediately, you can begin to see some of the comforting aspects of having a servant's heart.

Taken from “Transparent Humanity” by Insight for Living (used by permission).