Humble Pie

If I’m going to be totally and one hundred percent honest…..I have truly had trouble adjusting to life here at the ranch. I’m living with more people than I’m comfortable, in a space much smaller than I’m used to, and expending more energy than I usually do on tasks that I’m not used to doing. HOWEVER, my attitude has also been pretty terrible. What began as fear and uncertainty has spiraled into a spirit of complaining and grumpiness where I took something valid and instead of seeking to improve my circumstances, I just nestled into my unhappiness and fed it. I’m not certain why I did this….I’m typically a fairly jovial and optimistic gal, but for whatever reason, I have chosen to live the past few days outside my normal persona.
This morning we had biscuits and grits for breakfast, and mine was served with a side (and a big fat helping I might add) of humble pie. I don’t remember the last time I had to be confronted about a poor attitude, but this morning a brother called me out (with love) on my complaining and I realized what an ugly spirit I had been exhibiting the past few days.

My decision to come to the ranch this summer was a long and difficult one, one that I didn’t even really feel I’d received confirmation on until my plane landed in Sacramento last Sunday. It was on the windy mountain roads between Yreka and Etna with the windows down, Hannah Freeman’s hamster gnawing contently on the fake log in her cage, and a Cindy Morgan album blaring on the stereo that I felt Him whisper that He’d brought me here this summer for an appointment and that He was going to complete a great work in me. What I longed for this summer to look like was lots of time in solitude, alone with my Bible and a good book and the Lord, praying through issues in my heart over scripture and a good cup of tea and being enlightened by the voice of God speaking to my heart. When I arrived and realized that that picture was unrealistic and inaccurate, I was disappointed and felt that I’d been refused something that I somehow deserved and became certain that what I needed I wasn’t going to find and that the voice I thought I’d heard whisper to me confirmation must have just been a strong wind.

A few days ago the head of girls staff spoke on Psalm 23 and I heard it in a way I’ve never heard it before. It begins:
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me like down in green pastures,
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His names’ sake”

Who am I to decide how my soul should best be restored? Who am I to dictate how I would like Him to go about completing a great work in me? He promised me that He had brought me here, and He promised to do a great work in me. To restore me, to grow me, to give me rest; and He is making me lie down in green pastures. Just like a little child might resist a nap because he would rather stay awake and play, his mother knows that what that child needs is rest, and needs it then. So she causes him to lie down; she carries him in to his crib and physically lays him on his bed so that he can rest because she knows that is what he needs. I left to my own choosing, I would be living in a cabin by myself a little ways up one of the mountains here to study in solitude, but He is causing me to “lie down” here…in a different way…surrounded by people, in community with the body of believers to be restored and encouraged not through being a studious recluse, but by learning the discipline of joy and to remind me that I am truly dependent on Him for my Joy.

My life in Nashville is amazing and blessed and as my mother would say, “a charmed life.” I go where I want, when I want, do what I want, and am blessed by having an occupation where I do what I do best and love most and sustain myself that way. I have amazing friends, a great place to live, everything I need in a five-mile radius. And while I acknowledge that He is the source that has provided all these material and emotional blessings, I don’t always rely on Him. I often extract my joy from the gifts that have been provided and not directly from the Giver Himself. Here, when I’m in the thick of cleaning a toilet, or vacuuming the same floor I vacuumed yesterday, I require Him, and Him alone to give me the strength to complete the task with a heart posture of servitude and an attitude of Joy. To complete menial tasks without complaining takes a supernatural power that only He can dispense.

He has made me lie down where He knows I can rest, and I cannot live a day without Him. My friend Jenny just stopped by the table where I’m writing and glanced at the title of my blog. “Humble pie is so good!” she said with a look of sweet satisfaction on her face. “I mean it doesn’t taste good going down….but when it gets where it’s going….mmmmmm, your blood just surges.”

P.S. I seriously considered deleting my previous two posts, one were my poor attitude was evident, and then the subsequent one where I tried to glaze over my bad attitude, but have decided to leave them both as a testament to the work He has obviously already begun to complete in me. Blessings to you all.