Humility will be the death of me

I usually have my soon-to-be-published mother look over what I write for editing purposes, but I did not for this one (sorry, Ma!).  I felt entirely scatter-brained as I tried to write this, and that is due to the fact that it felt like I was writing both on-topic but also writing about the humility that I am desperately praying God grants me so that I could read the words myself.  The words may feel all over the place because I was truly all over the place.  If one reads this and feel any encouragement, that is due to the Spirit working in the heart and not from the words that either meandered or flooded from my mind.


As I said when I started this page, I wanted to write something at least once a week.  I've posted one thing in the month or so I've had it, so that is obviously not happening like I would like it to.  It is not like I don't have time to sit down for a couple hours each week and pound something out.  A large reason is the fact that good subjects are not coming to mind as quickly as I hoped, and that is mostly due my definition of "good."  There are tons of subjects that have crossed my mind that are raised by my experiences, current events, sermons, my personal reading and devotions, etc.  But, most of them are cast aside when I am discerning what to write.

I want to write to glorify God and His Son, not bring attention to myself.  With ease, I could lament about the struggles of my life; I could deprecate myself for how trivial I think those struggles are; I could show off how "spiritual" I am by writing poignant essays about the Scripture I've been meditating on or the books I've been reading; I could flaunt my opinions (and trust me, I have quite a few); the list could go on.  Most of the times I think of something to write about, I figure it would be ultimately pointless, so I scrap the idea.  "Who am I, to write such things?  I surely don't have decent things to say, so the only thing that could possibly happen is that I sinfully bring attention upon myself."  I've even contemplated throwing this idea away since I don't find myself a man with the humility my Lord calls me to have.

Now, let's move on to things that I'm still wondering if I should even say...

I believe it is safe to say that each one of us struggles with pride.  Some of us deal with pride in the typical sense, where we think we are the god of our own universe--we are the best, smartest, most attractive kid on the block, and we know it.  We walk with our heads high above the clouds in admiration of what a stunning piece of work we are, and can swiftly defend any attack that says otherwise.  Or, some of us (like myself, I am ashamed to say) live with a sort of pride that looks like humility, yet is just as destructive.  I don't think much of myself (as the above two paragraphs begin to show), and that may look like humility on the surface.  But, in my "lowly" estate, I despise myself for my sinfulness, I shun teaching and encouragement from my friends and pastors, and I refuse to let the Grace of Christ soak into my being.  "I know myself better than anyone else, I deserve to punish myself for my sin, and I declare condemnation over myself."  Saying that I know my soul better than anyone and setting myself up as judge, jury, and executioner over it is effectively establishing myself as the god of my own depressing universe, devoid of hope.  It may not be pride in the normal sense, but I still elevate myself to the level of God Most High.

What am I to do?  I'm sitting here, after publicly confessing the sin that seems to have the tightest grasp on my soul, frustrated.  I am ashamed of my struggle, and that shame would worsen with each ounce of pity a reader feels--and that attention is something I want to avoid at all cost because that is not my desired result in writing.  The idea of quitting so that no one would read this crossed through my head again.  The truth is that this struggle is not just about writing, but it is something that permeates into the depths of my soul and into each aspect my life.  I want be a good writer, friend, son, husband, father, pastor, mentor, teacher, employee, church member, leader, servant, etc. to glorify my Savior--but I believe, with help of the Accuser, that I will ultimately fail, and thus be labeled as a failure.

Each of us has a similar struggle, do we not?  One's may not be similar to mine, but each of us has trouble looking at ourselves with sober judgment (Romans 12:3).  It could be our western idea of "self-esteem" that tells us all that we are gifted, unique, individuals and we ought to "feel good" about ourselves.  If someone  would go to counseling to speak about all the "depressing" things in his life, all he would hear is that things will get better and that he is strong enough to get through it.  On the other hand, someone with "high self-esteem" doesn't need counseling--he would be hero-worshiped for his display of confidence and comfortability in his own skin (it happens often enough--just watch Sportscenter for 10 minutes).

But since I started walking with the Lord a few years ago, my whole concept of self had to be reworked and rewritten in light of the Gospel.  I let myself be defined by the world--and by worldly standards I was (and still am) not someone particularly special--I'm not overly talented, athletic, smart, handsome, culturally refined, well-dressed, well-off, or anything of that sort.  Yet here is what the Gospel of Christ says:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1:26-31)

Jesus does not tell us that we have all of these worldly things despite what we may think about ourselves, so we should turn that frown upside-down and get on with life. No--He offers Himself to us to spite the world, and to redeem us and make us righteous in the eyes of God, so that we may come into His presence and do nothing but praise Him.

While those words are beautiful and joyous, they are equally as confrontational.  It is a wonderful mystery of the Gospel why Jesus would lay claim on the lowly and  despised, but one must humbly admit that he is lowly and despised by the world and not secretly hold onto those worldly ideals.  That long list of things I want to be for the glory of the Lord can easily become my pantheon of worthless idols.  I just as easily envy all of the traits and qualities I don't have, despite their vanity.  We all have our ideals of what we wish our lives would look like--then Jesus asks, "For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world yet forfeit his soul?" (Mark  8:36).  Would we rather have everything we could possibly every want and be the person we could only dream of being for the brief minutes we are on earth, or be an eternal blood-bought child of God?  We know the Sunday School answer to this question, but our hearts react to it in a much different way, because we really want to be both.  Jesus tells me what to do with this man of vanity that I at times want to become:

I must kill him.

And [Jesus] said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it." (Luke 9:23-24)

Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. (Colossians 3:5)

Regardless of if we walk with our heads too high or too low, we still must bow at the foot of the Cross.  We may long to be a man or woman of prestige in this world or we may think we already have attained it, but we all have nothing to boast of before the Throne.  Only in humility can we come before our Creator and admit that we proudly rebel against or sullenly refuse His majesty. Only in humility can we take the gifts we have been given and glorify the Lord, even if it brings worldly shame on our names.  Only in humility can our desires be wholly yielded to the Lord, gracious in what is given and what is withheld.  Only in humility, is our worldly self put to death.  This is not easy--it is a daily action we all must take.  The proud must bow down before his Lord and the depressed must look up and accept the gracious Hand that means to pull him from the mire.

And thanks be to God who took on flesh and dwelt among us to show us what humility is, and paid the price so that our failure would not be held against us in judgment.