Tag Archives: Humble

Due Time

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.
1 Peter 5:6 (NIV)

I sat at the local pub one afternoon journaling. Without warning a thunderstorm of ideas rolled in. I began thinking about all of the life lessons I have gained as a result of my career.

Customer complaints are rarely about the complaint.
Systems shape souls.”
Everyone wants to make rules out of exceptions.”

If you had told me when I was a teenager that I would spend over three decades of my life analyzing tens of thousands of business interactions between clients and their customers I would have invited you to go take a long walk off a short pier. That would have been among the last things on this earth I would want to spend my life doing. Besides, I had my entire life dream planned out.

College. Seminary. Pastoral ministry. Preacher. Author.

God had other plans.

Over 100,000 business phone calls, emails, and chats analyzed. Customer research.
Front-line coaching and training.
Executive strategy sessions.

I was good at it. My gifts and abilities dove-tailed perfectly with the job.

There I sat at the bar writing down all of the lessons I’d learned on this, long, strange trip I called a career. Not just business lessons. Life lessons. Spiritual lessons. Lessons about relationships and human interaction. Lessons about systems that apply universally across humanity. They poured right out of me onto the pages of my journal.

When the storm receded I looked at the list. This was the foundational content of a book. I just knew it.

That was well over a decade ago. The idea sat quietly in my journal for years. It wasn’t forgotten. I thought about it all the time. I even had one occasion in which I spoke seriously with a publisher about it, but the opportunity wasn’t right.

I waited. And, I waited.

My soul aches when I have to sit on a great idea.

Last May I was invited to a Zoom networking meeting with a man named Michael through another networking contact I know in Puerto Rico. I have these kinds of networking meetings all the time. You never know who you’re going to meet. I scheduled the meeting with Michael. I had no idea what he did.

As Michael began sharing his story, something funny happened. I discovered right up front that Michael was a believer. He and his wife had spent years working for a ministry I knew very well. I had a former employer who worked for the same ministry. Our stories were eerily similar.

We both chased ministry.
We both tasted disappointment.
God had rerouted both of us into business.

Michael became a publisher of books about business.

In today’s final chapter of Peter’s first letter, Peter tells his readers to humble themselves before God. I often think of humility as an attitude, but Peter speaks of it as being an action to be taken. Humility isn’t thinking lowly of myself, it’s placing myself willingly under God’s hand.

I’ve learned along my journey that humbling myself before God is really all about surrender.

“Whatever you want from me God.”
“I surrender my will as I embrace and pursue the passions you gave me.”
“I will continually ask, seek, and knock as I press on one day at a time.”

Approaching life with this posture, Peter writes that God “may lift you up in due time.”

Which means that humbling myself before God also requires that I trust God’s timing.

In a brainstorm at the pub God gave me the seeds of a book.
Then He buried it in the soil of time for over a decade

But that didn’t mean it was dead. I thought about it. The lessons marinated in my mind and soul. I added lessons to the list. I continued to make mental and spiritual connections.

The seeds germinated.

They grew roots.

Then one day I had a random Zoom meeting with a man name Michael.

The fruit will be available for you to taste in just a few weeks when the book is published.

I have learned along life’s road that there is a timing to the Story that God is authoring in me.

If I’m going to trust the Story. I have to trust His timing.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

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Choosing Humility

Choosing Humility (CaD Lk 14) Wayfarer

“But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Luke 14:10-11 (NIV)

Before getting into today’s chapter, a quick update from the Vander Well homefront. As faithful readers know, I love my morning quiet time, and it’s out of that morning quiet that these chapter-a-day posts spring. Just a few nights ago, our daughter and her family moved back to the States from the U.K.. As in, they moved moved…into our house…for the indeterminate future. Ya-Ya and I are so very excited about this. After our grandkids lived an ocean away for five years, we are over the moon to have them just an arm-length away from a cuddle or a hug. However, the empty nest will be a three-generation household for a while with grandchildren whose bodies are still on UK time, where midnight to us is 6:00 a.m. to their wee brains. So, my morning quiet the past few days has turned into playtime and doing the Macarena.

So, please know that my chapter-a-day posts may be published sporadically for at least a few weeks until the holidays are over and life settles into a routine for the household. And, they may be a little more sporadic after that. It’s semi-controlled chaos for the near future. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Speaking of hospitality. In today’s chapter, Jesus is a dinner guest at the home of a “prominent” local Pharisee. Jesus is still drawing crowds that number in the thousands and so the Pharisee’s dinner attracts a lot of locally prominent people. I find it fascinating that one host found Jesus to be a rude and impudent guest, but the invitations kept coming with different results.

At this particular dinner, Jesus watches as guests clamored and connived for the “seats of honor” at their host’s table. Jesus used the moment to teach a lesson. Basically, if you take a place of honor for yourself and your host tells you to move to the foot of the table because someone more important deserves the seat of honor, your desire to be seen as the most prominent person in the room will turn into the exact opposite. You’ll be embarrassed in front of everyone as you slink to the only open seat as far from the seat of honor as possible. If, however, you are content to take that seat at the foot of the table and your host says, “No, my friend, come sit at my right hand at the head of the table,” then everyone at the dinner will notice as you are escorted to a place of honor.

What fascinated me this morning, is that later in the chapter Jesus seems to extend this same lesson about humility when He turns to the crowds and says, “Whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” This very well-known statement of Jesus loses the power of its meaning when Jesus said it to the crowds.

The Romans who were in control of the country were able to rule their empire for centuries, in part, because they found the most cruel and heinous ways of suppressing dissent, crime, and rebellion. Romans would tie a person to the back of two different chariots and then drive them in opposite directions until the person was quite literally pulled apart. Other victims of Rome would have molten metal poured into their mouths. One of Rome’s more creative means of torture and executions was to tie a person into a huge sack with a snake, a monkey, a dog, and a rooster and then throw the whole sack into the river. The animals would tear the person apart in their terror as they all drowned. According to the ancient philosopher, Seneca, however, it was crucifixion that was the worst torture of all.

“Is there really such a thing as a person who would prefer wasting away in pain on a cross – rather than dying quickly? Would anyone be willing to choose to be fastened to that cursed tree, especially after the beating that left him deathly weak, deformed, swelling with vicious welts on shoulders and chest, and struggling to draw every last breath?”
Seneca, Moral Letters, 101

In separate writings, Seneca described how each crucifixion could vary depending on the executioner, with different ways to sadistically amp up the pain and suffering of the victim.

“I see right in front of me different kinds of crosses made by different people. Some hang their victims upside down. Some impale them through the private parts. Others stretch out their arms onto forked poles.I see ropes, whips, and tools of torture crafted for specific limbs and joints.
Seneca, Dialogue, To Marcia on Consolation, 6.20

In Jesus’ day, crucifixion was a very common and public spectacle. Romans typically had people crucified on the road just outside a town or city. As Jesus and His followers made their way to Jerusalem, town-by-town, they would pass crucified individuals tortured and hanging on crosses that they were humiliated and forced to carry themselves to the place of their execution. I think it very reasonable that Jesus may have been making his way walking out of town with His disciples, entourage, and crowds when they came upon the sight of a criminal carrying his cross under Roman guard. I can imagine this sight caused Jesus to turn to the crowds and say: “And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

There is a connection between this moment and His teaching at the Pharisee’s dinner party. Jesus said that humbly accepting the lowest position, even at the risk of social humility was what His followers should do. He then doubles down on this teaching by pointing to a bloody victim of torture, in complete agony, dragging the cross on which he will be killed, and says, “this is what you must do to be my disciple.”

In the few seconds of quiet I had this morning between the unrelenting barrage of a six-year-old’s questions and dancing the Macarena, I found myself thinking about my own willingness to choose humility. In a world that is all about popularity, likes, followers, status, and influence, how do I willingly choose into the lowest rung, the foot of the table, or carrying a cross today? On this day and the upcoming weekend of semi-controlled chaos, holiday festivities, family gatherings, friend gatherings, and hoop-la, how can I tangibly choose the attitude and consequential behaviors Jesus desires of me?

Have a very Merry Christmas, my friend. Thank you for reading, and following, and listening. I am grateful for you. If you don’t see a daily post in the weeks ahead, just know I’m probably doing the Macarena with my grandkids.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

An Iowa Psalm

Iowa annual fainfall, in inches, created in ES...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 65

You take care of the earth and water it,
    making it rich and fertile.
The river of God has plenty of water;
    it provides a bountiful harvest of grain,
    for you have ordered it so.
Psalm 65:9 (NLT)

For the record, I’ve never been a farmer. Though I’ve lived all but four years of my life in the state of Iowa I’ve got the most rudimentary understanding of how farms operate. I was raised in the city and have rarely stepped foot on a farm. Nevertheless, I’ve come to understand that being from Iowa gives you an appreciation for the land and the symbiotic relationship we have with it. You can’t escape it. The land and the people woven together. There’s cadence to life here that begins with planting, leads to harvest, followed by subsequent thanksgiving and celebration of the holidays before it ends in deep winter and the hope of next year and doing it all over again.

I tend to think that this relationship and dependence on the land and the weather is what gives us a rather humble and simple faith. Those whose livelihoods are rooted in agriculture realize our dependence on so much that it completely out of our control. You live life constantly making adjustments to what the earth and sky throw at you and have faith that it’s all going to work out in the end. When harvest does come and the crop comes in, there’s a realization that a large part of your success had absolutely nothing to do with you.

The chapter this morning tapped in to all of those thoughts and emotions. This is an Iowa psalm; A farmer’s psalm. David’s lyrics are full of that humble understanding that God’s creation is immense. No matter how much we strive to tame it, it only takes one massive storm, flood, or drought to remind us how dependent we really are.

Today, capping off a holiday weekend of Thanksgiving, I’m saying Psalm 65 as an extra prayer of gratitude.

Chapter-a-Day 1 Chronicles 5

And even though Judah became the strongest of his brothers and King David eventually came from that family, the firstborn rights stayed with Joseph. 1 Chronicles 5:2 (MSG)

To this point in the book, the author of Chronicles has focused his genealogical listings on the tribe of Judah and particularly the house of David. We see it yet again in the verse above as the writer appears to explain to his readers why first born rights among the tribes of Israel were not with the first born Reuben, nor with his favorite team: Judah. He does, however, bring up an interesting connection.

Joseph and David were both the youngest among their brothers and were derided as such. God raised both of them to prominence over their brothers and gave them both positions of power, authority, and blessing. Both David and Joseph are constant reminders that God is a God of the underdog. God raises the lowest, most humble. When we are at our weakest, God tends to performs His greatest works in our lives.

Chapter-a-Day Micah 5

Insignificant. But you, Bethlehem, David's country, the runt of the litter—From you will come the leader who will shepherd-rule Israel. Micah 5:2 (MSG)

Being an Iowan requires a certain amount of humility. Go to either coast and tell someone you're from Iowa and you'll see their eyes glaze over as they struggle to remember their 5th grade geography. They have no idea where Iowa is, or what it's like.

There are no great landmarks in Iowa to attract people. There are no professional sports teams. We have no national parks. The only President from Iowa was Herbert Hoover (the Great Depression hit on his watch – so we generally choose not to get to puffed up about that). The most noteworthy things about Iowa are fodder for obscure trivia questions on Jeopardy.

Nevertheless, I love being an Iowan. And, I like that God tends to make great things out of humble beginnings. He likes to transform the youngest, smallest, and least significant into His chosen instruments. Bethlehem, the "Iowa" of Israel, becomes a birthplace of special distinction. God sends His Son to save the world, and has him born in a little nowhere town like Bethlehem.

Feeling small? Struggling to feel significant in a large world? No worries. God has a special place in His heart for the youngest, smallest, weakest, and least significant.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and obo bobolina