Being Humbled Like a Hug

My bro-in-law holding his youngest daughter

"And all I was trying to do was save my own skin,
But so were you."
-Relient K, "Be My Escape"

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."
-Matthew 7:7

I was once warned against asking God for humility because it meant that you would start dropping a lot of things and tripping over stuff and generally making a fool of yourself uncontrollably.

I think I am being humbled lately, and while it has been extremely painful at times, I am starting to see that it is a lot more like a big hug from my King-Father than like something to fear. I didn't realize how much he loved me, the real me, the one I wanted to change back in 8th grade so that she would feel less invisible and more interesting to the people around her. I still don't get it, and won't until heaven, but God is speaking my language to me and it is changing my heart in humanly unattainable ways. I see him not only healing and reviving my beautiful quiet soul but also quieting me with his love.

I have built my own shields to try and defend myself from pain, but he has been calling me to seek him--"seek" is the word of the year I sensed him giving me for 2017--and as I do, he has been dissolving my cardboard shields with tenderness and reinforcing the shield of faith that he intends for me to use at all times.

I sat below the big white wooden snowflakes and among the big white wooden tree-frames and star lanterns in our church gym this morning, singing Christmasy songs and hearing our pastor talk about  Joseph's willingness to follow God into the ruining of his earthly reputation. As Pastor Todd talked about Joseph choosing not to do the traditional thing, choosing not to throw the first stone at his fiance when he thought she had broken her vows to him, I thought about the baby whose life he preserved with that decision of love, the baby who would later become a man who would tell the people gathering to throw a stone at an adulterous woman that they should only throw those stones if they were without sin.

I thought about Mary, a virgin with an empty womb and a willing heart, who gave Jesus a place to live as a fetus. And I thought about Joseph of Arimathea, a kingdom-seeker with an empty tomb and a willing heart, who gave Jesus a place to lie as a dead man. I thought about my humbled heart and my consistent sense that I do not have what it takes to do the tasks he's given me to do. And I saw how all God needs to work in the life of a saved sinner are empty hands and a willing heart, a heart that gives his spirit a place to live. There is room for this savior in the inn of my heart, and that is all God needs to work his mysterious miracles.

"Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling . . . "
-Augustus M. Toplady, 1776

I thought about myself, and about my friends, especially those of you whom I love so dearly who are still living as orphans, street-smart but tired and weary and in need of a parent, like me. Looking at myself and thinking about you, I realized that you and I can't drop our sin and the homemade shields we are holding onto for dear life unless we first know God's love, how personal and real and warm it is. We can't drop our defenses and shed our layers and accept love until we know that his love provides us with the life we are looking for.

Try it; what do you have to lose? Dead skin?

Seek him. Find him. Leave the orphanage and beg at his door. He is waiting and he loves you.

This God takes beggars in and adopts them.