Ted Turner is quoted as saying, “If I only had a little humility, I’d be perfect.” While Ted Turner may not be the poster child for Christian humility, neither does someone with an attitude of self-disparagement witness to the humility of Christ.
When Beverly P. Gordon (“My Daddy Said So“) was filling out a questionnaire which asked her to
describe herself with one word, she wrote — without any hesitation at all — the word “gorgeous.” Startled, and wondering why she hadn’t written something that sounded less vain, she pondered her response. She thought about her father and his unconditional love for her, and she remembered how her mother had told her about the wonder of her birth, and she concluded: “So the world can argue all they want; but my Daddy said I was gorgeous and my mother affirmed it, and that’s good enough for me.”
God’s word tells us that we are created good — and lovely, too, since we are made in the image of the beautiful God. Whether or not our own parents were as loving as Beverly Gordon’s, God looks at each of us as a loving parent looks at a baby and says, “You’re gorgeous!” A humility which says, “Poor me, I am so wretched that God wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me” or, “I am such a terrible sinner that God could never forgive me” — this is a specious humility, not from God, and contrary to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Christian humility is recognizing who we are before God. When we gaze at the magnificence of the Grand Canyon or the splendor of the night sky, we are conscious of how small we are. When we become aware of the depth and height of God’s love for us, we also see our own smallness and our unworthiness. We are creatures, we are weak, and we are at every moment in need of mercy. But we also stand in the truth of what our heavenly parent has shown us: that we are wholly loved and incredibly beautiful in the sight of God.
The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival.
(Zephaniah 3:17-18a)




You might clean the house and go to the grocery store and prepare food and sweep the sidewalk or the porch. Then what?
If we can’t control guests or elevators or walk signals, even less can we control the coming of God. Waiting for God brings us into a sacred darkness and helplessness. If we are really waiting, if we have truly accepted to wait, we have let go of our need to control and have acknowledged the sovereignty of God. This is a helplessness that can be thought of as falling into the hands of God. When we choose to wait with our whole being, we slip into God’s time, rather than the illusory time we think is our own.