Tears threaten while the deadline looms. My hands shake as I press send, knowing the work is far from my best and far from complete. Guilt strangles, and in the heat of the moment, another email comes from my shaky fingers, apology-filled and confessing work unfinished and lacking. My head knows nothing will change, but my heart eases with confessional and acceptance. With all work turned in, summer school ends, and the mind eases somewhat. Sleep eventually finds my sleep deprived eyes, and hope for new mercies in the morning finds my heart.
The brilliant sun rises, and a new day begins. I find the computer, habitually checking for new email, not expecting to find hope.
Inbox opens, and there it sits. Bold letters of response to hasty emails written after a midnight deadline. The words I find are more than a simple response....
they are grace and mercy.
Tears threaten yet again as I slide to my knees, head bowed.
Humbled. That is how my heart feels.
I am humbled by the grace that is so freely given, yet completely undeserved. Yet I smile against the tears, grateful joy seeping through, recognizing my brokenness while remembering the One who holds the broken pieces in His hands.... And also remembering other undeserved graces bestowed by the same merciful One.
I am laid low, but He is lifted high... in my heart, in my thoughts, in my life.
My heart asks questions, seeking answers...
Is humility a response to grace given and grace received?
Is it accepting the brokenness while remembering the Healer?
I find that there isn't room for guilt or wallowing in true humility.... and there isn't room for me either. When I am laid low, I feel the comfort and joy of the God who fills all the spaces. With little of me in the picture, all my eyes see is the magnificence of my big God.
And perhaps that is the purpose of a humble heart.