Thursday, April 7, 2011


Psalm 131

My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore.

Frequently throughout my adult life, I have prayed for humility. I have seen the divisiveness of pride – of my own pride – and I want it gone.

But I’ve come to cringe when I pray for this, knowing the work the Lord will do tends to be...well, humiliating.

This past week I’ve been helping my parents move out of the home I grew up in. While my mom has cleaned the closets on occasion over the course of these past 30+ years, there is still a lot to go through. As we’ve filled boxes, we’ve laughed and paused at some of the memories we have un-earthed.

It’s been a walk thru my childhood. Today we discovered an old purse of my moms. I remembered the eighties hairstyle that went with that purse and the lipstick we found inside it. We came across my brothers’ old Batman blankets, and I could picture them wrapped up in them sound asleep when I passed by their bedroom door. The family centennial picture that hung in our dining room, the material from an Easter dress I wore, the dolls who kept me company, and the books I loved as well. The people, the lessons, the emotions of those years all came rushing back as I associated memories with things. Today I found a box from high school that reminded me of a bitter-sweet time of success, and destructive pride.

I constantly struggle with pride. The second I feel like things “are going well,” I get carried away with my ‘achievement,’ and my pride takes on a life of its own. When I’m shown the error of my ways and my pride is knocked out of me, it’s a painful process to get back up and feel good again.

What will my kids remember if, God willing, we are reminiscing in their childhood-home someday when they are grown? Will they laugh at their primitive drawings and smile when they find an old devotional we’d read together? Will they feel comfort and security as we share daily struggles and lift each other up? Will they remember a mom who walked next to her God, trusting Him as a “child with its mother?” Or will they remember a mom distracted by her own pride and ego? Critically and anxiously trying to produce a family that ‘looks’ good and appears to have it together?

Today the Lord has quieted my soul and I am calm and at peace. He has given me a Faith that Trusts, and my Hope is in Him. It’s not about me. I am thankful for this gift in this moment, but I know it takes little for me to turn inward, instead of to Him.

Lord, I pray that these moments of reflection can help to steer me in the right direction – for my kids and my family. It’s not about how we look to the world. It’s about my heart, and the hearts of my children. Lord, help us to put our hope in you, both now and forevermore. Amen.

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