Saturday, August 8, 2009

Pride Goeth Before Destruction – Part III of III


The second load arrived, and I was ready to go. The unloaders began to offload the truck, somewhat slower as we had lost Jake to another site by this point. We also had lost some of the movers. It was me and two others. Many of the farmers had arrived at this point (probably with idlers mixed in), somewhat impatiently awaiting their seed and fertilizer. The two others movers carried the first bag together. I walked up to the pile of fertilizer, and there was no one to help. I looked around at the faces, and there was a bit of incredulity; I assumed this was disbelief in my capacity to do manual labor. Maybe I was wrong.

Up to that point, the majority of my motivation was good and clean and pure. But then the crystal spring of goodness was tainted. The weed of pride broke through, cracking the straight and narrow road of humble service. My desire to express manliness by diligence and exertion mutated into a dark pride in that which would have been virtue but for pride. I wanted to prove that I was a man who was strong, rather than a man who was humble. I wanted those who stood by to believe that I was strong, not that I was their servant. So, with my spirit puffed up within me, I squatted down and lifted the bag of fertilizer. I single-handedly carried it to the pile, arrogant in the strength which let me do the work of two men.

The other two (clearly not aware of the feat which had just been accomplished) continued working as if nothing had happened. So I went back to the pile, squatted down and lifted. Only this time, there was a deep pain in my lower back. Not a sharp pain, but diffuse throughout it. I set the fertilizer down and walked aside, holding my back. I decided to take a break, and the two others finished stacking the fertilizer. As I stood, the pain rose and my mobility fell. I got stiff if I stayed sitting or standing too long. It was a pain similar to what I had known many years before, my old back injury that I though was behind me. But it was somehow unique; I had not remembered the inflammation of my back muscles.

I took it easy the rest of the day, and suffered through the humility of sympathy. Sympathy is good for things that are accidents, but this was due prideful foolishness and I deserved nothing but contempt. I was able to walk, and in fact walking felt quite good; it kept my back stretched out. I expected other modes of transportation would be excruciating. So after the day was through, I walked home.

The walk was about an hour and a half. I needed the time; I had a lot to speak with God about. We hadn't spoken for a while; after all I was so busy. And I hadn't been reading my Bible, either.

I was quite concerned and I told God as much. I didn't know how bad the injury was. If it was degenerative, I wouldn't be able to stay in Kenya. Those who depended on me would be let down both my team and the people for whom I am here. My pride might sabotage even more than my own work. After half an hour of such reflections, I repented of my sin. As I walked along the way, the arms of God wrapped around me and He forgave me. A tear came to my eye as I beheld God's light shine down before me:



“The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.” - Isa 9:2

I continued my painful and (I think) therapeutic walk. Last week, I had started reading the book of Job with no reason other than it felt right. I reflected on what I had read: “the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21). Either here or in the US, in failure or in success, with pain or free from it, God is in control. And He loves me. Even in the face of my foolish pride. I begged Him to let me stay and continue my work.

I got home. I apologized to Jake. He rejected my need to apologize and told me it was fine. We shook hands. That handshake communicated more than words ever could have: I was forgiven. We were reconciled.

I slept and woke. And I was slightly better. After stretching, I was able to walk at a normal pace. And it hurt slightly less than the day before. I was able to sit and work for most of the day. Praise be to God! Though I must bear weeks or months of pain, the complete failure which I feared will, God willing, be averted! He has heard my prayer and answered the cry of my heart!


As a closing thought, I really wish I would have listened to Merlin (Howard Pyle's Merlin, at least).
Something he taught Arthur was that not all men are free to pursue honor; moreover honor is not even the highest ambition. Arthur, upon finding out that the sheath of Excalibur made him invulnerable, refused to use it because it took the honor out of his fighting. Merlin told him that he must because he was no longer a knight errant whose only aim was to heap up honor for himself. Merlin told Arthur that he was king, and he was now a servant of the people; the good that he could do in a long life of service was far more important than the personal honor that he would lose for himself. He consented to sacrifice personal honor for humble service. I should have done the same.

1 comment:

  1. What greater profit than to see,
    The long lost brother now set free,
    What greater joy than to behold,
    The fire set to hearts gone cold.
    The buried coin beneath the ground,
    That once was lost, but now is found.
    And rejoice now full in humble heart,
    Which needs be stray, ere grace may start.

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