This morning I prayed for God to assassinate the arrogant, scornful, and critical spirit that has been daily gaining strength inside me as we attend seminary (ironic or just sad?). Maybe He was just waiting for me to ask instead of trying to do it myself. I saw two clear answers that have me on my way to freedom I hope.
1. This morning in chapel we had a special presentation by a fellow student. He put the kareoke track on for a slow, sentimentalish worship song and sung his heart out. My heart was rolling its eyes, and even more so when I heard the guy next to me say "Amen, brother!" and saw the girl in front of me bobbing back and forth (only missing her lighter).
Then in an instant I remembered (in a definitely supernatural not-from-me way) that these people around me were precious children of God, loved dearly by Him. Who the heck am I to judge their worship?! If anyone in that room inspired God to roll His eyes, it was me, not them.
Beyond the recognition of my own depravity, I felt like I was able to see these people with God's eyes for the first time and appreciate their sweet simplicity. Both conviction of sin and love for those around me had me wiping my eyes.
2. During our group work in Systematic Theology, I got into a somewhat animated discussion with another girl about the nature of a particular question. The teacher happened to be right beside us, and I distinctly thought to myself, "Thank goodness he'll finally see how brilliant I am and what dimwits the rest of these people are!"
And then it turned out I was wrong. I had confused the word portador (bearer) for portero (doorkeeper) and missed the point of the question entirely. I didn't bother mentioning that it was a language problem, seeing immediately that this must be God's work in reminding me of my place in the world (not first).
Thanks, God, for the humiliation and for the conviction and for the love for others, a love I clearly don't have on my own. I'm so glad that you condescend to fight my battles for me and attack my pride, because clearly I wasn't doing so well trying to do it myself.