Humble.  Not a word frequently used in our society.  After all, we are a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” nation.  To be humble: having or showing a modest estimate of one’s value or importance; not arrogant or self-important.  One of the words in the Bible for humble means to make low or to level.  Not one of the things we pray for, “God if you would level me today, bring me low and lay me flat…” and yet, when He does, it’s absolutely beautiful.  

I’m reading through the Old Testament, and I’ve made it as far as Deuteronomy.  I’m embarrassed to say that in all my years as a believer, this is the furthest I’ve made it in reading through Scripture beginning to end.  I’ve tried multiple times, but this time it’s come alive.  I’ve known the stories and could give all the highlights, but never the ground-level play-by-play. The Israelite nation is even more frustrating when read in totality!  The number of miracles on a daily basis including a cloud by day and fire by night to lead them.  They had three meals a day delivered to them first thing every morning.  Doughnuts from heaven were scattered in front of their tents every day!  But that wasn’t good enough.  They wanted meat to go with their doughnuts, so God had quail fall out of the sky.  They heard the very voice of God.   They walked on dry land through the sea and watched as God single-handedly took out the largest military threat of the day.   Battles wonagainst all odds and water provided in the wilderness. We’re not talking a few thousand people here, it was close to one million people by the time they entered the promised land.  And yet…  

The constant complaining, the times, “we would rather have been left in Egypt to die in bondage,” was the chant of the masses.  They were unable to follow the simplest of directions.  As I read it, I find myself agreeing with God.  Wipe them out!  Start fresh!  I’m shocked at Moses’s patience and ability to plead on behalf of the nation he’s trying to lead.  After all, they don’t bring their complaints directly to God, but to Moses.  He’s the one who gets to listen to the whining and “woe is me” every day for over forty years.  And yet…  

Back in February, I had my first appointment with a new rheumatologist.  She works at Oschner’s a top-notch medical facility almost three hours from here.  After my initial visit I spent over two months trying to get an MRI taken and getting the results sent to her.  Her office informed me that they had received the CD with my MRI on it, so when they called to schedule an appointment I assumed, never a good idea, that she wanted to go over the results.  They scheduled me for April 29th, a mere week later.  I tried to change the date because it wasn’t ideal, but she was booked solid through June, so next week it was.   And yet… 

Recently, my daughter decided to go to Greece on a travel abroad program with her college.  She’s getting her degree in nursing, and this weeklong trip combines nursing with mission work.  She gets to work with the homeless, refugees and the needy.  Not only providing medical help but also sharing the gospel and praying over them.  Prayers for her time in Greece would be much appreciated.  Sheasked me to go with her hoping we could get there early so we could do some sightseeing.  All of this was extremely last-minute, but I decided to get my passport just in case.  With my health issues, traveling can be rough.  At this point, we were about a month out from the trip.  We spent a lot of time in prayer and discussing different options.  My husband didn’t think he could clear his schedule, so it was looking like it would be a girls’ trip.  After looking at airfare, lodging, and all the specifics everything seemed to be falling into place.  Airfare, for just the days we wanted to be flying, was about half price.  Hotels and transportation were cheap.  My friend who lives in Germany just “happened” to be going to Greece at the time Megan would be doing her mission work.  But I was still concerned with my health.  What happens if I take a turn for the worse while Megan is busy? I didn’t want to be a hindrance to her.  These concerns had kept me from booking airfare, and yet over the weeks, the airfare stayed the same, just for those dates.  A mere 16 days before the day we had penciled in to leave, my husband surprised me.  That morning, he asks, “Is it too late to go with you?” Mind you, he doesn’t have a passport.  Ecstatic, we ran down to the post office only to be met with, “There’s no way you can get it in time.”  We continued to ask questions, desperately trying to figure out how to make this work.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “the only way that you would be able to get the passport in time is if you went to New Orleans.  There after you apply, you can walk out with your passport the same day.” Y’all, the heavens opened, and the angels sang. We were going to New Orleans for my appointment in four days.  The appointment that I had been working on since the beginning of February.  The one where I’d hopefully get some clarity on the pain that had been gradually getting worse.  Now, not only would all that be happening, but now we could get the passport for my husband and go to Greece together!!  All the details that God had set into motion months beforehand and all the tiny sprinklings He’d laid out for us daily started coming into view.  Oh, how I praised Him!  And yet…  

As we left the doctor’s office, the pity party I threw was of epic proportions.   Not only had we walked out with no answers, but she also didn’t even know she had access to the MRI.  She had to reach out to a radiologist to have him read it, so it would be another week before even a chance of answers.  Even with that she wasn’t hopeful for help with future treatments stating, “you’ve tried almost everything without much success, so…”.  I was beyond angry and frustrated.  As we drove away, I told my husband, “I’m done.  I quit.  I’mnot going to try to figure out my health anymore.  I’m just going to live like this, it will be good enough.”  Or in the words of the Israelites, “I would rather have been left in Egypt to die in my bondage.”  I’m ashamed to say it took me some time to realize the words that had left my mouth or the attitude of defeat I had willingly grabbed on to.  My husband tried to lift my spirits by talking about Greece and what we would see.  He even took me to the largest Goodwill I’d ever seen.  I love thrifting!!! My husband, even amid my tantrum, was whispering to me through his actions, “I love you and I’m here.”  Islowly felt the anger melting but I wasn’t completely ready to let it go.  At this Goodwill outlet they have huge bins that they wheel out with a hodgepodge of clothing, books, home decor, shoes…you name it.  All carelessly dumped into these containers for people to rifle through in hopes of finding treasure.  As I looked through a bin of books I was hoping to find my daughter’s latest obsession, Pride and Prejudice.  She has a new printing of it but I wanted to find an antique version for her.  No luck.  There were over a hundred bins, mostly heaped high with clothes.  As I approached one of the last bins I saw an old book buried amongst the clothes.  I picked it up; it was in great condition.  I opened the book and almost cried as I read the title Pride and Prejudice.  It was as if He was saying, “I’m still here and I still love you.  Trust me!” Amid my pity party God reached down with a doughnut. 

Our old pastor used to say, “When you read the Bible you like to put yourself in the place of the hero, but you are not the hero.  There’s only one hero, and that’s God.  You’re not even the innocent bystander; you are the villain.  You are the stiff-necked people, the ones who won’t believe regardless of the miracles you’ve seen. You’re one of those who cried out for Jesus’s crucifixion.”  As I remembered his words I was hit hard.  I was brought low.  Laid flat.  I’m no better than the Israelite nation in the wilderness.  I can have the blessing of God fall from heaven at my feet daily, and then…when I’m faced with a minor trial, the “woe is me” comes flying out of my mouth.  And yet…  

He still loves me.  To realize that even though I am faithless, He is always faithful.  To see His love poured out through things that don’t matter,like a book, just to show me He is still there, is beyond humbling and the most beautiful whisper of love.    

To be humble: having or showing a modest estimate of one’s value or importance; not arrogant or self-important.  My value and importance are not what I can do, but it’s in “Him who is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us.” Ephesians 3:20