Walking in Humility: God Chooses to See Only Jesus in Me

It was one of those days. 

A dreary day at the end of July found us at each other's throats by the time breakfast was finished. Disobedience and sass, yelling and screaming, bothering and being bored.

Normally, I don't mind our small house. We have what we need and utilize the space we have, so nothing is wasted. Clutter is overwhelming in small spaces, so it's a great reason to not go crazy buying things and to get rid of the extraneous crap we already have. All in all, it's a great system.

Except in the summer.

I love my children dearly, but they drive me a little crazy those few months. Mainly because we're all on top of each other like little, pink, baby hamsters, and I have nowhere to run and hide. With all the whining and squealing and begging and fighting, I can totally understand why a momma hamster would want to eat her young. Just for some peace and quiet.

Not all days are like that, but certainly, there are some. And this particular day at the end of a finally-hot July had been one of them.

To put things in context, this day had been preceded by a couple months which left me feeling like a failure of a mother, a shell of a human, and a mess of a Christian. I preached a sermon (I don't think I will ever get used to saying that, but I guess that's what it was) on Mother's Day about the Proverbs 31 woman, which I think I will include in this series at some point, and God met me that day. He helped me get over my fear of speaking and present His truth in a way many had not considered it, for His glory.

Then I fell of the spiritual bandwagon and hadn't picked up my Bible since.

Our dog of twelve years got sick in early June and we had to put him to sleep. And I just couldn't stop crying. My postpartum depression reared it's ugly head and refused to depart, no matter how hard I tried to snap out of it or will it away. I'd always just dug my heels in and got through it, but this time my out-of-control hormones were clawing those around me and biting them with sharp teeth. Sometimes a sullen, numb and disconnected beast, other times unpredictably wild and nasty, and I couldn't rein it in.

To lose control of your own mind is a humbling thing.

July arrived with little blue pills from my doctor, which, thankfully, helped me find a middle ground again, and my first case of head lice, courtesy of my son. I graduated childhood without a single louse, and here I find myself at 34 years old with a head full of them.

When my husband came home that day, I took the opportunity to get out of the house and walked to CVS for some lice shampoo. As a mother of five, sometimes "getting out of the house" isn't glamorous, but you have to take what you can get.

Yes, mommy is leaving. I will be right back.

No, you can't come with me.

I trudged down the sidewalk in flip flops and house clothes. I inhaled the fresh air and exhaled in stride, thankful for some silence and space to think. But my thoughts immediately wandered to my shortcomings:

I yelled and screamed at the kids today.

I took my own stress and issues out on them. 

I suck as a mother because I can't seem to keep the house together, the laundry from living on the couch, or the dishes from overflowing in the sink.

I haven't picked up my bible in months. Why would God want to talk to me now? I'm sure He's disappointed...

Grabbing the generic lice shampoo from the shelf, I took a little time to wander the isles, looking for clearance nail polish and scoping out the dollar section. Not finding anything I couldn't live without, I checked out and headed home after chatting briefly with the cashier. 

The words of a friend from the week before echoed in my ear. Questions about why God always referred to Abraham as faithful, yet he doubted. David was known as a man after God's own heart, yet he committed adultery and murder.

How can that be? 

It occurred to me in the discussion that because of what Jesus did for me, God sees only Jesus in me. When my sins are forgiven, they are removed as far as the east is from the west, and He literally can't see them anymore. He only sees Jesus, who paid for them with His blood.

He only sees the good.

And sure, He knows what we've done. He's God. But He chooses to call us redeemed, to refer to us by the good, by the moments we sought Him in humility and repentance. 

The dingy blanket of cloud cover began to shift, and rays of warm light burst through. I could feel the sun on my skin, a tangible outpouring of His love and grace. It was the reset my day, and my life, so desperately needed.

Looking up at the sky, I closed my eyes and breathed it in deep: the truth that I'm not what I scream; I'm not how I feel. I'm not my failures or my mistakes. I'm not the lack of checks on a bible reading plan. I'm not all the things I didn't get done or the things I would still like to do.

I'm just me, in all my humanity, and He loves me because. 

Because of a man hanging on a cross, making a way for me to be free. 

Free from the burden of measuring up, from figuring out my own way.

A way for God to call me redeemed, to see only Jesus in me.

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This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. Enjoy!

Walking in Humility: Know What You Don't Know

I had planned on writing further about Luke 5 today, but this verse struck a chord in my heart.

Don’t brashly announce what you’re going to do tomorrow; you don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. {Proverbs 27:1}

There are so many pearls of wisdom about humility in the book of Proverbs that one could write an entire book about them and still not be done. I think this verse in particular speaks to something very important about humility: it's so, so important to know what you don't know.

I heard on a radio program once, and I'm sad to say I forget the source, that there is a vital difference between knowing and knowing. Forgive the redundancy and let me explain. We often speak about knowing things we've read in a book or in an article on the internet, things we verified with our doctor or heard from our Pastor or dear Aunt Sally. We have read it/seen it/heard it, therefore we know it. 

But when the Bible speaks of knowing, it means experiencing or living it. One knows it because one personally walked or suffered through the experience. As you can see, a chasm exists between reading about it and living it. Being a little bit of a word geek {maybe are do, too?}, I love how this startling difference changes the meaning of some familiar verses, making them all the more rich.

When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate. {Genesis 3:6, MSG}

Eve was probably surprised and disappointed to realize she wouldn't actually be the wisest in the land but would instead experience the gamut of depravity and sin that plagued humanity.

Noah built an altar to God. He selected clean animals and birds from every species and offered them as burnt offerings on the altar. God smelled the sweet fragrance and thought to himself, “I’ll never again curse the ground because of people. I know they have this bent toward evil from an early age, but I’ll never again kill off everything living as I’ve just done. {Genesis 8:20-21, MSG}

So sweet and merciful is this word, like the sacrificial fragrance wafting upward, that although God knew from the beginning of time the atrocities man's capable of, He will never again wipe us out. 

“Don’t lay a hand on that boy! Don’t touch him! Now I know how fearlessly you fear God; you didn’t hesitate to place your son, your dear son, on the altar for me.” {Genesis 22:12, MSG}

God knows now because He experienced Abraham's faithfulness firsthand.

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.” {Psalm 46:10, NIV}

Scripture is seasoned with invitations to know God, to walk with Him, and to abide with Him in the mundane of everyday life. Experiencing Him changes us. It shapes us, molds us, gives us a fresh perspective, and keeps us humble.

Especially in this internet age, we think we are know a lot about something because we read an article or listened to a poignant TED talk, when we actually know nothing about at all. 

I've learned there is freedom in yielding, in deferring to others who have earned a voice in a particular area with which I have no experience. We all have something to teach, but we also need to be students who willing to learn. Willing to be quiet and listen without judging, without forming counterpoints or arguments. Willing to sit with someones truth, regardless of how uncomfortable it may be.

The variety of backgrounds, stories, and experiences possessed by humanity weren't meant to pit us against each other but to enrich our lives and perspectives, ultimately pointing to the vastness, grace, and mercy of God. 

I came across a comment on Facebook once that has continued to bless me: 

The longer I am a Christian, the more I realize that I know so little of the big picture. I agree that when I see Jesus I want to be able to say, "I knew I couldn't judge rightly in all things, so I chose to love greatly in all matters." {Sonya Sampson}

So will you join me today in proudly acknowledging what you don't know? In letting God be God and allowing Him defend your name as He sees fit? Will you be a student of stories, quick to listen and slow to speak? Slow to become angry? Freedom exists in that space as we walk with Him in humility.

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This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. Enjoy!

Walking in Humility: All of Life is Repentance

Push Out into Deep Water {Luke 5: 1-11, MSG}

Once when he was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the Word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd.

When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.”

Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch.

Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon.

Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him.

We talked through this passage at a small group meeting on Friday, and it solidified what I wanted to write about this month.

When a group of believers gather together, every single person can pull something slightly different from the same text, and I love that! Perspective reminds me of a collection of beautiful fabrics, much like the ones in my mother's sewing closet. While each is unique and beautiful in its own right, we find that when a piece of our material is clipped away and shared with others, stitched together as we bare witness to the very stories and experiences that have woven together the fabric of our being, it can become a breathtaking glimpse of the bigger picture of humanity that binds us together. And in that organic creation, the quilt gives us a clearer reflection of the Creator Himself. 

We took turns sharing what we were thankful for that week and also what was stressing us out, and my answer was one and the same: my family. Funny how that works sometimes.

After we read the passage above, the first thing I noticed was the power of His timing--how they had been fishing all day and caught nothing, but when Jesus spoke the word, the net was so full of fish they couldn't even pull it up themselves. He's a God of abundance in His time.

But then, as I sat with the passage, letting it marinate a little in my soul, the interaction between Simon Peter and Jesus began to stick out. Probably because it was a challenging week with the children and obedience, exasperated by the fact that I didn't go to bed at a decent hour most days. We tend to see life through our lenses of gratitude and stress.

“Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.”

I know that tone, I thought to myself, because I hear it from my kids everyday. 

It's the whole, mom, I think what you're asking me to do is completely stupid and I don't want to do it, kind of attitude. 

The, I shouldn't have to do it, and I know better than you, eye-roll. 

But if you insist, I guess I'll do it anyways, because you're making me. And so I don't get a consequence. Complete with foot stomping and a WHATEVER. 

Girl, please. Momma don't play.

So, I started to wonder... Is homeboy being....sassy???

I don't know if that's the right word for a grown man, but he was being something. 

Prideful.

Honestly, it would take a lot of humility for him to defer to someone else when his life's work is being a fisherman. When he spends his days out on a boat with those very nets and knows the best places and times to catch the most fish. And homeboy was simply saying, dude, this ain't it. Respectfully, Jesus, Sir. 

But as soon as Simon Peter obeyed, the nets were as overwhelmed with fish as his heart was with repentance and awe. It became clear to me that it wasn't obedience Jesus was after all along--it was his heart. A humble heart: one filled with pervasive, all-of-life-repentance and the fear of the Lord. A heart that is capable of abiding in Him and existing in the close relationship He desires to maintain with us, if we are willing.

Tim Keller writes, 

"...the more we feel accepted and loved in the gospel, the more and more often we will be repenting. Although there is some bitterness in any repentance, in the gospel there is ultimately a sweetness. This creates a radical new dynamic for personal growth. The more we see our own flaws and sins, the more precious, electrifying, and amazing God’s grace appears to us. On the other hand, the more aware we are of God’s grace and our acceptance in Christ, the more able we are to drop our denials and self-defenses and admit the true dimensions of our sin. The sin underlying all other sins is a lack of joy in Christ."

Repentance not only gives us a sobering view of our sin, but it elevates God to his rightful place as Lord and Savior, rescuer of the wretched: you + me. Then we can finally begin to see rightly--through the lens of rescued + redeemed + free--and walk with Him in humility.

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This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. Enjoy!

31 Days of Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday

If I were to pick a word for the year as some organized, list-making people do, usually in January when setting goals and such, I would hesitantly circle around and land on HUMILITY. It's only taken me ten months to arrive at that conclusion, but hindsight has perfect vision and "better late than never" is, sadly, my life motto, courtesy of overwhelming experience. 

I wouldn't decide on "humility" because I want to learn more about it necessarily, or because I feel like I need a good dose of it in my life, although some days I certainly do. But as I look back, I feel like the the Lord has been bringing me to a place of humility time and time again. 

The year began with the birth of our fifth baby on the horizon in early February. I was nesting and felt pretty good, considering I'd done this several times before. But I was a decade older now with four other children to chase after, and lets face it--I was TIRED. All. The. Time.

So things needed to wait. The house, with all its looming projects and boxes demanding organization, had to take a backseat to the everyday tasks I was struggling to keep up with. Bending over to load the dishwasher became impossible for my back, and I had to ask for help. A couple weeks before the baby was due, two of my grandparents suffered a series of health issues and finally passed away. The baby arrived a day after my grandmother's funeral.

As the months following his birth began to unfold, I suffered more than ever before with postpartum depression and also a condition commonly known as: children. Not only did it become painfully obvious that any control I thought I had over my life was a farce, but it also became glaringly clear that I needed help. 

Help in the form of a husband willing to get up and take over the morning duties of packing lunches and getting kids off to school so I could try to earn back the sleep that was deducted during night feedings. Help with carpooling, meals, and laundry. Help in the form of little blue pills that gave me back a middle ground and kept my thoughts from running away from me like grains of sand spilling through a sieve. Help finding a new normal as a family of seven by letting go of the normal that used to be. 

Humility isn't something you ask for: it's a state in which God keeps you, if you let Him. 

Humility is a gift from the Giver, if we have our hands open to receive it. 

Humility is an invitation for a new set of eyes to see the world as He does, a new heart to relentlessly and lavishly put others above ourselves, and a new set of lungs with which to breathe in and savor an abundant life. 

I can see a myriad of ways the Lord has graciously brought me to my knees, reminding me, once again, that He's in control. He is God and I am not, and He's plenty capable of filling that role. So I'm going to take the month to write about some of those experiences and hopefully encourage you all in the process. 

Join me?

Read on here...

• Confessions {day 2} 
• All of Life is Repentance {day 3}
• Know What You Don't Know {day 4}
• Make Room for the Journey {day 5}
• Can You Hear Him Walking? {day 6}
• Even When You Don't Have Enough, Build a Bigger Table Anyways {day 10}
• Dear Doctor, I Need Help {day 17}
• God Chooses to See Only Jesus in Me
• There's Freedom in Embracing the Tension
• His Kindness Leads Us to Repentance
• Honest Self-Assessment
• A Grateful Heart
• When Life Is Stressful
• The Ability to Speak the Truth in Love is Not a Right but a Privilege That Must Be Earned
• Further Thoughts on Speaking the Truth in Love
• Ministry is Messy...and It's Supposed to Be
• Where Division Exists So Does Pride, and Other Thoughts on Loving Well Post-Election
• The Angry Stress Monster
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