In Preparation for Humiliation

Excerpt from “Someone Else’s Diary”
By Ree

Sin is humiliating enough, once you realize that’s what you’ve done. But the clean up afterwards…forget it. It’s like driving the chunks of salt from salt trucks into a gaping wound with a pitchfork. This is the time that you realize just how much you need God’s grace…grace to acknowledge your wrongs, grace to forgive the wrongs of others, grace to admit your wrongs to others, grace to apologize and ask for forgiveness from them…it’s much easier in the secret of your prayer closet to whisper your wrong doings to Father God, and thank Him for His forgiveness that you know you don’t deserve.

The word humiliation stems from the Latin word, “humus”…and so does the word, “human.” Humus means earthy, sod, dirt, lowly. Odd that the two would be connected…or not, considering the origin of man. The Lord formed Adam out of dirt…Adam means dirt. God knew He had created something lowly…and we know it, too. This knowledge should humble us enough to realize that we are made from the earth, we had no form, no shape, no soul, until the Lord breathed His life into us. But instead, we find it an insult to admit we are dirt, sod, earthy and low…until it becomes convenient.

So, after your conversation with the Lord Most High, you start to climb into bed, or maybe you’re already there. Just as you are about to drift off to sleep, you hear, “Now, I want you to apologize to so-and-so and ask for their forgiveness, too.”

And the wrestling match is on.

“Why should I apologize to him/her? If it weren’t for what he/she did I wouldn’t have had a reason to react!” (Here I am indignant because I have just been treated like I am lowly).

Then the Lord nudges you with His rational that makes you want to tear your hair out. “But you chose to react. You chose to allow his/her story to become a part of yours. You could have stood silent, like I did.”

“Well, You were both fully God and fully human! I’m just human. I’m missing the God element, here.” (Now I want to be dirt, because it may help me get out of what was my responsibility.)

“No, you’re not.” He replies. “I’m right here with you.”

Rats.

Now I have to decide. I have to choose…again. The Lord has pointed out that my earlier choices were poor…but they were mine, made without considering His thoughts, His word, His sacrifice, His love. And now He’s holding me accountable. He’s placing the reminder of His choice to be lowly…even though He didn’t have to be. He’s showing me that I have that same choice…and I’m a whole lot closer to the ground than He was. He’s showing me I can break the sin cycle right here, right now. Or, I can choose to be prideful and limit the work He can do with my soil.

Humanity …sod…was paid for with His blood, His love…His humility. He bought…dirt. I don’t have to purchase anything with my humility. I only have to imitate Him. I only have to adopt His attitude. I only have to appreciate that He paid a very high price for me and for the one(s) who have sinned against me. He considered us all valuable enough to give His throne up for awhile.

If the Lord handed you a pearl off the gates of heaven, or a star, or maybe a piece of a cloud, and asked you to treat it with care because the item in question was very expensive, would you do it and why? Is it because you can see the obvious wonder of such items? Is it because no one else has ever owned or been caretaker of such a treasure? Would you keep these things safe, treasure them, show them off, speak well of them, touch them whenever you had an opportunity? Of course, because these things appear beautiful to you!

The Lord has given us something He has valued. He has given us each other. He has given us…dirt…to care for, love, speak well of, handle gently, hold close, keep healthy…He wants His dirt returned to Him in better condition than when He left it. He doesn’t want it stripped of nutrients, dry, dusty, and useless for planting. We must learn to recognize the value of each other, just as Christ saw something of value in us.

I have a feeling I’ll be getting in touch with my roots very soon.

Boating

Excerpt from “Someone Else’s Diary, Vol. II”
By Ree

Matthew 14:29-30 …Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"

I’ve never been afraid of boats…I grew up riding a ferry boat back and forth from Drummond Island to DeTour, often invited into the captain’s chair to steer. I knew where the life preservers were kept, knew how to swim, and I loved to lean over the side of the boat and look into the green, sparkling water of the St. Mary’s River. In the winter, I would watch huge ice chunks float out of the way of the ice breaker, and in fall, the crash of high waves over the railing. I loved riding in speed boats, row boats, canoes…it didn’t matter. Growing up around water meant that boats were a natural part of my life.

My perception changed quite a bit one summer, as I went tubing with my brother on his boat several years ago. Although only in my thirties, I had lost a bit of my edge as far as balance and grace were concerned, not to mention flexibility. I had this unreasonable fear of sitting all the way down in the tube, fearing that my behind would get stuck, I would flip over and not be able to loose myself, and drown. So every time Dan would hit high waves, I would pop out of the tube into the water. He would circle around, I would climb back into the boat, pull in the tube and while he held the rope, I would reach my leg out to set my foot in the tube, then grab hold and slide back in.

Unfortunately, in doing so, I had crouched on one leg, and with the fiberglass wet and slippery, my foot slipped out from under me and I landed on the cleat, which punctured the back of my leg. I had nothing to grab, and so slid off into the water, with the cleat tearing a huge gash in my leg. 16 stitches and several vicodin later, my boating was over for that season.

The following summer I was out with a friend boating. We decided to return to shore to use the facilities. He ran the boat up on the beach, and I stepped up to the bow, and then attempted a very graceful jump onto the sand. My foot landed on the only patch of wet grass for a mile, I slipped and sprained my ankle. Walking cast and several vicodin later, I was again out for the season.

It concerns me that boating figures prominently in the New Testament as several of the disciples were fishermen. Often times Christianity is referred to as being in a boat in a storm. While the analogy is accurate, it makes me nervous. Boating isn’t as easy as one may think it is. There are hidden cleats and grass clumps everywhere. One must be careful in exiting a boat.

And for those who criticize Peter for jumping out of the boat and sinking after he started out walking on the water, speaking from personal experience, getting out of a boat is treacherous. I applaud Peter. At least he didn’t break, cut, or sprain anything when he got out. All he did was react to high waves and crashing thunder. He took his gaze off Jesus for an instant and began to sink...and he knew enough to cry out immediately to his Lord to save him. If it had been me, I’d have tripped over something trying to get out in the first place.