There lies within me an affinity for incredible success. As much as I'd like to say I am quietly unassuming, there is a boldness that yearns for a title. The Best. The Amazing. The Brilliant. It is a driving voice that provides fervor, a maniacal pursuit of goals that are glaringly improbable. For those of you who think I am humble, you are not aware of the arrogance that I try to suppress. Not "in your face" arrogance, but more of a "I'm sure you think your idea will really help me" arrogance.
And for each success, I build add a little bit of idolatry to my life. I wouldn't be remotely surprised to find that, during a fMRI, while describing the things I've accomplished, brilliant yellow lights show up in the frontal lobe in a form resembling a golden calf. (I should note that I actually would be very surprised if this did happen, because that would be an incredible coincidence.) Pondering and acknowledging the many events and people, both past and present, that have influenced me is a decent way to alleviate the problem.
But I revert. When I am tired. When I am anxious. When my vision is clouded. I think, "I can do this." And I list off all the things I HAVE done.
Moses, having wandered the Sinai for many years, had a fair share of trials. "Moses, we were better off in Egypt." "Moses, I'm thirsty." "Moses, are we there yet?" "Moses, there's a rock in my sandal." The emotional and psychological burden, as well as the matters of faith...I can scarcely imagine the stress, or how I would have found a way to cope. After all, I get a twitch in my eye just from a little sleep deprivation...
And yet, Moses did it with incredible grace and humility. This is not the part of Moses that I identify with. It was the second time that Moses spoke with God, to produce water for the Israelites, that resonates with me. The moment when Moses, in anger and frustration, loses his composure. He HAS done this before. He HAS produced water from a rock. Standing indignantly, overwhelmed and feeling unrecognized, he strikes the rock. He doesn't command water from it. He strikes it. Not once but twice. "...must we bring you water out of this rock..."
With more tact than Kanye, God's like, "Yo Moses, Imma let you finish, but...you aren't going to enter the promised land." Who gives water? The hand of Moses, or the hand of God? How often do I speak out of turn, claiming a success in my name?
I HAVE taught this student. I HAVE become an expert. I HAVE given years of service.
Without God, could I have? My fervor, anger, and indignation produced success? I lower my head, and ask that the golden calf be excised. And if you don't mind, God, don't make it hurt too much. Perhaps something non-invasive? I am bald, and a scar really wouldn't suit me.
But it does hurt. Recognizing how much I rely on myself everyday without praying for guidance. In the back of my head, perhaps buried underneath worldly idols, I do know. I know that it was providence that brought me here. That God had molded me, as his beloved, to do something I couldn't fathom. That God's love, patience, and grace existed in me because God chose me (and you too). And those qualities have opened doors for success. But it was not me, and me alone.
Humility, and the will to listen. I hope for faith that allows me to no longer strike the rock. Peace.
And for each success, I build add a little bit of idolatry to my life. I wouldn't be remotely surprised to find that, during a fMRI, while describing the things I've accomplished, brilliant yellow lights show up in the frontal lobe in a form resembling a golden calf. (I should note that I actually would be very surprised if this did happen, because that would be an incredible coincidence.) Pondering and acknowledging the many events and people, both past and present, that have influenced me is a decent way to alleviate the problem.
But I revert. When I am tired. When I am anxious. When my vision is clouded. I think, "I can do this." And I list off all the things I HAVE done.
Moses, having wandered the Sinai for many years, had a fair share of trials. "Moses, we were better off in Egypt." "Moses, I'm thirsty." "Moses, are we there yet?" "Moses, there's a rock in my sandal." The emotional and psychological burden, as well as the matters of faith...I can scarcely imagine the stress, or how I would have found a way to cope. After all, I get a twitch in my eye just from a little sleep deprivation...
And yet, Moses did it with incredible grace and humility. This is not the part of Moses that I identify with. It was the second time that Moses spoke with God, to produce water for the Israelites, that resonates with me. The moment when Moses, in anger and frustration, loses his composure. He HAS done this before. He HAS produced water from a rock. Standing indignantly, overwhelmed and feeling unrecognized, he strikes the rock. He doesn't command water from it. He strikes it. Not once but twice. "...must we bring you water out of this rock..."
With more tact than Kanye, God's like, "Yo Moses, Imma let you finish, but...you aren't going to enter the promised land." Who gives water? The hand of Moses, or the hand of God? How often do I speak out of turn, claiming a success in my name?
I HAVE taught this student. I HAVE become an expert. I HAVE given years of service.
Without God, could I have? My fervor, anger, and indignation produced success? I lower my head, and ask that the golden calf be excised. And if you don't mind, God, don't make it hurt too much. Perhaps something non-invasive? I am bald, and a scar really wouldn't suit me.
But it does hurt. Recognizing how much I rely on myself everyday without praying for guidance. In the back of my head, perhaps buried underneath worldly idols, I do know. I know that it was providence that brought me here. That God had molded me, as his beloved, to do something I couldn't fathom. That God's love, patience, and grace existed in me because God chose me (and you too). And those qualities have opened doors for success. But it was not me, and me alone.
Humility, and the will to listen. I hope for faith that allows me to no longer strike the rock. Peace.
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