Humility Like a Child — Broken & Hopeful
Like a child, He said. The humble one, the gentle one, the teachable one. These will be able to see the beauty of heaven.
At that time the disciples came to ask Jesus, “Who is considered to be the greatest in heaven’s kingdom realm?” Jesus called a little one to his side and said to them, “Learn this well: Unless you dramatically change your way of thinking and become teachable, and learn about heaven’s kingdom realm with the wide-eyed wonder of a child, you will never be able to enter in. Whoever continually humbles himself to become like this gentle child is the greatest one in heaven’s kingdom realm. Mt 18:1-4
Not the loudest, pushiest, most demanding, or most noble scholar? Not the fiercest, strongest, or most warrior-like fighter?
The humble one who keeps humbling himself like a child.
It reminds me of David’s realization in Psalm 51:16-17.
For the source of your pleasure is not in my performance or the sacrifices I might offer to you. The fountain of your pleasure is found in the sacrifice of my shattered heart before you. You will not despise my tenderness as I humbly bow down at your feet.
God loves humility. Jesus died in the midst of His humbling Himself, even to the point of death on the cross. Our price for coming to God is our pride. We must sacrifice it on the altar and move towards Him in humility.
It scares me. Humility feels like weakness sometimes. It feels like we aren’t standing up for ourselves or fighting battles that should be fought. But humility is often the price for opening the door to loving others. I don’t want to love others when I’m fighting for my rights. I have to set those down and move into the strong tower of protection of my God, allowing Him to fight for me.
Humility is actually born from great strength, supernatural strength. It means I can change from the cultural mindset of being the best, the strongest, the most arrogant. It means I can become teachable, waiting to learn at the feet of Jesus. Waiting for Him to be my all, for only then can I see true strength at work.
Sometimes humility means I must say I’m sorry to someone I don’t want to look down on me. Sometimes it requires me to admit I don’t know something, even if others think I’m stupid because of my ignorance. It means I don’t have all the answers, I don’t know how to fix things, and I don’t have my life figured out.
Humility also says that I know where to find the answer, and it’s not in the recesses of my brain but rather in the Life of Christ within. I know the Counselor, the One who brings healing and meaning to broken lives. Humility says I can walk into a situation without one clue how to deal with it, and walk out in wide-eyed wonder at what He has done in that same place.
A child must rely on the parent for many things—protection, provision, nurturing, identity. In the same way, as we become like children, we move into more dependence. We recognize we can’t pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. And we get to entrust ourselves to our Heavenly Father, who knows what we need and already has a plan for it.
Humility sometimes feels like death. But it’s a beautiful hard that brings about Life.
