On humility

I’ve regularly prayed that God would keep me humble, quiet, and small. Because I know my heart is drawn to desire attention and to find my value in how others view me. The interesting thing is that the more I have grown at ease with my smallness, the more confident and comfortable I’ve become with who I am. I’m more “at home” with myself than I’ve ever been, and I feel like my truest self.

Years ago, I was invited to speak at an event. I remember someone I deeply respected and whose opinion held great power over me, cautioned me that I might not be ready and that he didn’t think it would be appropriate at my age to “teach” women older than me. I was disappointed to decline the invitation, but pleasing him was so connected to how I viewed God’s approval of me that it didn’t even feel like a choice at all. I thought turning it down was the humble choice at the time, to take a posture of learning from this trusted authority. I realize that’s not always humility, but rather sometimes bowing to controlling approval.

We can spend years quieting our desires, thinking it’s the more pious and humble path, allowing resentment and doubt to build. That path can lead us to believe that others are doing things we were meant to do. If we had just finished that degree, if we had only met our spouse sooner, if we could have better networking acumen. If we had just said yes to that opportunity. We die a slow soul-crushing death as we assume we’ve somehow missed God’s will for our lives, or that we lost his approval.

Humility is not self-loathing or self-deprecation. It’s not based on how lowly we think of ourselves, or how worthless we believe we are. It’s recognizing, with great sobriety and gratitude, that every gift is a grace from God. Every skill is an expression of his handiwork. Every “yes” a divine demonstration of his great love. Exercising those Spirit-empowered gifts (Isaiah 61), stepping into each “yes” in obedience to him and for the sake of his kingdom — that is true humility.