Tag Archives: Humility

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Daniel 4

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No accident. All this happened to King Nebuchadnezzar. Just twelve months later, he was walking on the balcony of the royal palace in Babylon and boasted, "Look at this, Babylon the great! And I built it all by myself, a royal palace adequate to display my honor and glory!" Daniel 4:28-30 (MSG)

While in college, my sister and I were in a bad car accident. It was a late night on an icy road and our car spun out of control into oncoming traffic. In the panic of the moment as the car spun and I comprehended the headlights of cars coming at us I was stripped of any conscious thought. I reacted in panic. I cried out the name of Jesus in a sudden, guttural one word prayer for help.

Moments later it was eerily still and I remember blood flowing down my face. I was in shock as I reached over to make sure my sister was still alive. Again, the only word I could utter was the name of Jesus.

When we walk through a difficult stretch of life's journey, it's almost natural to cry out to God. We are in need. We are in pain. We are stretched and weary and feel our spiritual reserves on empty. We cry out to God and cling to Him.

However, when things are good we tend to forget. When the road seems easy and all that we do seems to succeed we don't feel the need. Our tank is full and we are blessed. How easily we forget to recognize that the blessing we experience is not of ourselves.

The story of Nebuchadnezzar is a wonderful word picture reminding me that all that I have, all that I enjoy, and every blessing I receive is a gift of God. It is not of myself. Today, I'm reminded to recognize my utter need of God in good times as well as bad. I want my heart to react in a desperate prayer whether I'm spinning out of control or leisurely driving down smooth, straight roads. 

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and samkim

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Judges 12

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The men of Ephraim mustered their troops, crossed to Zaphon, and said to Jephthah, "Why did you go out to fight the Ammonites without letting us go with you? We're going to burn your house down on you!" Judges 12:1 (MSG)

Once upon a time, I pastored a church in a small rural town. In this church there were two men. One of the men had "his pew" in one back corner of the sanctuary. The other man had "his pew" in the opposite back corner. Each week they would come to church with their wives and go to "their pew" for worship.

I didn't think anything of this. One day, an elder of the church explained to me that these two men had a dispute over the placement of a property line. Arguments ensued. Bitterness followed. They never spoke to one another again, choosing to sit on opposite sides of the sanctuary to avoid seeing or speaking to one another.

I think of those two men from time to time and remind myself that life is too short to live in anger and hatred. Arguments are usually really stupid. This is especially true when men and their pride are involved, as with the Ephraimites and Gileadites in today's chapter. Why do we choose to hold on to bitterness and it's gnawing, destructive consequences than humble ourselves and seek the healing of reconciliation?

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 140

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The law of the playground. I prayed, "God, you're my God! Listen, God! Mercy! Psalm 140:6 (MSG)

I remember, as a kid, playing a game called "Mercy." It was your typical alpha male, king of the mountain, game of physical domination and abject humiliation. I'm sure it was created by some bully named Zeke who thought it up after he'd already given wedgies to every kid on the playground. Basically, two people face each other and put their hands together as if they were giving each other high fives. However, they lace their fingers together so that their hands are now clasping. Then they try to bend the other person's hands back until one of them is on their knees in submission and cries, "Mercy!"

How easily we come to equate "mercy" with defeat and humiliation. How quickly mercy becomes a cry to be avoided as we hang desperately to our pride and rugged self-sufficiency. As a child on the playground I learned that asking for "mercy" was a repugnant admission of defeat.

But, God is no school ground bully. If life were a mere playground game, God would have sent Jesus to be King of the Mountain. From his throne, Jesus would tyrannically force people in submission to his will. Instead, God sent Jesus to suffer humiliation and death on our behalf. The way of salvation became, not a meritous reward we earn in the dominating power of our own goodness, but an undeserved gift to any who are willing to pick up their own cross, follow Jesus and cry to God: "Mercy!"

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and mangee