The Humbled Haughty

I was this girl. I had this attitude buried under sweet. And it wasn't until years later that I woke up alert. There is a difference between knowing what you have done, and having godly sorrow over a thing. 

Godly sorrow gets into the deep of us. The heart of us. Grief settles in and begins the most beautiful work. The 180 degree.

The book of Proverbs talks about my sin a lot. This one I put skin on. I think I like to say that I didn't know I was doing it, and maybe at times that was accurate...but mostly, I knew. Because I couldn't find "me" inside. Like this glass door was between me and raw realities. I could see some, but couldn't seem to become.

I was a fool. 

I delighted in revealing my own mind. 

I was around a lot of wisdom perhaps. Attended conferences young. Read quality books on very important topics of the faith. I involved myself in a great many avenues of Christianity. I was a Pastor's daughter. I had ample opportunity to display. And like a peacock, I did. Often.  

 This Pride.

 The kind God hates.   

It's crazy. How when godly sorrow does its work we become so poignantly alert.

I ache inside when I think of how many people I hurt. How many I crushed with my haughtiness. How many people were stripped by my strut.

And I did strut. I took knowledge and made it a soap box. At every turn. The gift of being around wisdom ,and many faith based opportunities, became my drug. It was a way I could pack on the knowledge. Trying to form an identity instead of having one. This feed for my need for approval. For love.

But mark my words. Real love never comes as a result of putting others down. Of tending to your own image. Approval obtained because we have blown past the hearts of others...  It's ugly. Warped.

That's the thing that is sick about the sin of haughtiness. It's a poser. And once it gets into the soul of you, it makes it harder and harder for you to distinguish what's real. 

And I thought I was real. That I really was wise. That I really had it all together. That I was genuine. 

...as I told the married women what they could be doing...when I was single.

...as I judged Mothers in grocery stores, exhausted with their screaming child. When I wasn't yet a mother.

...as I told people trying to come out of addictive sins, how they could do it. When I hadn't been there.

...as I smiled behind book tables, worship  team microphones, and youth leader positions....

I was the endless peacock displaying. The blind heart selling eye glasses. How deeply I see now, grieve now... Because I was not welcoming. I was not love. And without love, I became the clanging symbol ( 1 Cor. 13).

I watched people view my family as unapproachable. Like we had it all figured out... This intimidating force to be reckoned with. And I fear we were that. I thought we were being admired. Like this example of what whole was. A prototype of what could be. Even now. Writing it out makes my soul turn. Mostly because I own up to my folly now. And I see my sin clearly. And I won't make excuses for it. 

I would fear times I was asked to give my testimony. I would sit and look for things that were "hard". You know...worthy of mention. Attempting to talk about moments Of God encounter. My palms would sweat. My heart would pound. I could show off what I thought I was...Even talk about who I wanted to be as if I already become that. But ask my soul to describe the real of me, and I was lost.

See. I didn't have grotesque facts, gleaming bright, with streaks of redemption. I was just me. The saved at 4 girl, who grew up in a very loving home.  I couldn't tell my story well, because I hadn't faced my ugly yet. 

The beautiful real of needing a Savior. 

The beautiful real of knowing it.

         ( photo By Tressa Stubbs)

I have been thinking this week. About how haughtiness is right up there with premarital sex, drugs, rebellion, and soul addictions. It takes, hurts others, and messes up our testimony. Then there was this thought. This one realization that made me hurt, deeply. The one that revealed to me why God despises spiritual pride. And it's huge.

Haughty people tell lies about who God is. It ties human opinion to God's reputation. Forming incorrect thoughts about the most important thing in this life. How others relate to Jesus Christ.

 It changes the way people view the heart of God. 

I. Did this.

My sin? I told lies about how My Savior loves. About how He gives. About how He chases us endlessly, no matter how tall we stand next to the measuring stick. About how Your story, my story, is personal to God.

That is huge to me. Huge.

So if your reading this, and you knew me then. If my pride...my lofty arrogance hurt you... I was wrong. I was wrong for telling you lies with my life. Jesus doesn't ask you to measure up, He just asks you to come. I am deeply sorry. 

And to the man I married 12 years ago... Baby I know I hurt you with this sin. Lording my poser wisdom over you like a growth chart. I stiffled you, wounded you, and hindered your hope. I thought I was this virgin beauty coming in to redeem and be a prize wife... What filth. You, my love, redeemed me. You have taught me how to be real. How my story, in all its rawness, is beauty in the hands of God. That experience and a pondering heart are wealth. You took my posed heart and loved me anyway. And that led me to Him. To all this new. To all this glorious real. Thank you baby. Your my hero and my home. I love you my dearest friend.

Pride does come before the fall. A fall that's long and hard. Eye opening and life changing. It had to be done. 

Hard questions can peel back layers. Shattering glass, between us and the becoming grace of God.

Have you told lies? About who God is? 

Words can do this. Attitude can. False composure...

Do you hinder people's hope? 

Pride does that.

This matters. A lot. Saying we speak the truth isn't enough. Truth, without love, can roll off the tongue a weapon. Cutting people down, pushing them away from the God who longs to be relational with them! 

Tell people why you fell in love with Jesus.

Tell them what He has saved you from. 

Tell they why you have hope. 

Introduce them to the One who changes everything before we can change anything.

Don't do what I did for years. Don't blurr Gods story with an agenda. With attempted composure and lofty plans. 

Our lives aren't about our legacy or empire.

They are about how we love. How we serve. How we know Jesus. 

Raw. Real. Life-changing. Love. 

I just want to walk with Him. Savor Him and all His amazing mystery. He came, stripped down all I thought I was, so I could be free. Free to be the woman He created. Free to fall and learn. Free to be stuck and met by grace.

My name is Liz. And I am a mess. Often. But the God of the universe knows my name. I am loved. Chosen. Forgiven. Valued. I have a promise. A future. And endless hope.

Sweet Jesus. He is my likelihood. He is my story.

What's yours? I would love to hear...