This is what I looked like on the day God decided to teach me about my pride in Eastern Europe. I was having a lovely day mountain biking in Peja, Kosovo, when suddenly I lost control of my bike and went knuckles first into a stone wall. Then, the handlebar snagged me in the abdomen and I pulled my hip flexor. Check me out in all my scraped up, banged up, bruised up glory:
I am a proud woman. I’ll admit it, but the Lord has been teaching me about my pride for years. There are two common definitions associated with pride:
- a deep feeling of pleasure or satisfaction based on one’s own accomplishments
- consciousness of one’s own dignity
In the past, I’ve won many battles with the first definition, especially concerning finding my worth and satisfaction in God instead of in my job and my ability to do it well (you can see how the Lord won that battle since I’m not working in a school somewhere).
But recently, God used a bike accident to shine a big ol’ spotlight on my struggle with personal dignity and my desire to do everything by myself. I like the way I make my eggs, and I don’t want you to help me do the laundry. Actually, I’d really prefer that you just let me do everything all by myself, thank you very much.
Heads up to all you independent women (and men!) out there, this much pride isn’t Biblical, but it happens. Even Moses struggled in this arena.
In Exodus 18, Jethro, Moses’s father in law, comes to visit, bringing along Moses’s wife and sons. Moses shares how God helped the Israelites, and Jethro is amazed, of course. Then, we learn about Moses’s day job; he is the judge for hundreds of thousands of people…the only one who settles the disputes among the Israelites. Can you imagine? That job would be all consuming.
Take a look at Exodus 18:14-18:
When his father-in-law saw all that Moses was doing for the people, he said, “What is this you are doing for the people? Why do you alone sit as judge, while all these people stand around you from morning till evening?”
Moses answered him, “Because the people come to me to seek God’s will. Whenever they have a dispute, it is brought to me, and I decide between the parties and inform them of God’s decrees and instructions.”
Moses’ father-in-law replied, “What you are doing is not good. You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone…”
In the end, Moses takes Jethro’s advice to ask for help, disputes are still settled, and his load is lighter because he allows others to serve humbly. When Moses sets aside his pride and allows others to help, he in turn gives those people an opportunity to be humble through their service.
Humility begets humility.
I speak from experience. It’s hard to hold tightly to your dignity when someone is in the shower with you, washing your hair, or when someone is lifting your legs into your bed when you cannot. It’s hard to suppress feelings of guilt when someone is carrying your big pack (that’s over 40 pounds) in addition to all of their personal belongings. However, the beautiful people on my team served me with so much joy and humility that I felt comfortable letting go of my pride and allowing them to lend me a hand (or legs, or their back…you get the idea).
We are not called to do everything alone. In fact, we are called deeply into loving community where we feel comfortable asking for help. That’s what my team, Wailua, has been for me. I am so blessed to do life with them.
God used my bike accident to show me that my independence is actually a defense mechanism; my self-efficacy is a way of keeping people at arms-length because it makes it harder for people to hurt me, disappoint me, or use the way they have helped me to exploit me at a later date.
Here’s the beautiful thing: the people in my life who love me like Jesus won’t do those things to me. Instead, they will serve me like Jesus. They serve me without ulterior motives and sour attitudes because the fruit of humility is oh-so-sweet, and they inspire me to be the same for other people.
Until the Whole World Hears,
Mia
