Y'all, I think I have a problem.
Lately, I have been so thirsty for Jesus.
Do you know what I’m talking about? I’ve been waiting for:
the sermon,
the quiet time,
the podcast,
the prayer,
the conversation,
the “verse of the day” in my inbox,
the devotional,
the passage in scripture that I stumble upon at just the right time to fill me up –
to hit me, to satisfy me, to teach me, to grow me, to pull me into that place where I’m knocked to my knees and made fully aware that the only way I’m getting back up to my feet is when and how Jesus chooses to pick me up, and not a second sooner and not in any other method because
I. Can. Do. Nothing. Apart. From. Him. (1 Jn 15:5).
But I wasn’t willing to hit my knees. I haven’t been for a while. I’m wrestling with this ugly, two-faced dragon named Pride, and she’s a real doozy. One minute she’s telling me I’m a great teacher, the next minute she's saying I've got all I need, and suddenly I become unteachable because my pride dragon has me convinced that the worst thing I could do is appear to not know everything.
You know the story when Jesus announces that it’s easier for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven? Well, maybe you’ve heard the periodical explanation and maybe you haven’t, I’ll layout the sparknotes version: evidently, according to some, the eye of the needle was a small arch in a city’s gates where camels could pass through, but only on their knees and with their heads ducked under. Camels are, apparently, extremely stubborn creatures. They don’t just go, “oh, yeah, sure, I’d love to crawl through this obscenely miniscule arch in this gate so we can enter the city.” Nope, evidently, camels put up a fight. Who knew?
Anyway, back on track, apparently camels have to be humbled and coaxed into kneeling, bowing their heads and crawling through the gate to enter the city – it’s easier for the camel to fit through the eye of the needle than for a rich man to enter heaven – get it? Because in order for the camel to get through, it’s gonna get humbled…but the rich man, so long as he views himself to be rich, will continue to miss the proverbial point: be humble. So he wont be doing any growing.
I’m the rich man (says the little girl). It’s funny, you know, because I can’t quote chapter and verse most of the scripture that I know to be true. I can’t tell you exactly where in what book it says this or that. I can usually offer the book, but that’s it. That's where my riches have been, and that’s all I’ve got…and the stupid part is I’ve been satisfied with it. Seriously.
So, the water is in the city, right? And the camel is thirsty – so, so thirsty. So, naturally, for the camel to get to the water, it has to get on it’s knobby knees, bow its head, and crawl itself through the gate so it can be refreshed and nourished.
Why did camels suddenly just seem to be a lot smarter than I am? Heck.
So here it is, I am having a HUGE problem with my pride – so much so that it’s gotten past the point where I am teachable, to the point where I avoid lessons because I don’t want to acknowledge that I don’t have all the knowledge.
Real stupid, right? Yes. Yes, it is.
The big confession:
Lately, I’ve been getting incredible advice and instruction from the most unpredictable sources and being challenged at the strangest times…and not just strange, but at times and from people that I do not want to admit can challenge me or give me advice or instruction. People I think are less intelligent than I am, less dedicated, less knowledgable than I am, less fervent in their pursuit of the Lord, less, less, less.
PAUSE: When did I become greater than anyone?
By, “lately,” I mean for weeks I’ve had this thirst and for weeks I’ve been getting advice I didn’t want from people I didn’t want it from, and I’ve written it off going, “yeah, I know that,” but do I really know that if Jesus just put someone else in my path to tell me that?
I. Have. So. Much. To. Learn.
Time to slay this dragon, because I have a lot to learn and the Lord has surrounded me with amazing sources of knowledge – and I’m thirsty! So, so thirsty.
