Over the years, I began to hate myself for this. When I felt that pang of jealously, I would take myself aside and get a good lecture over the lack of love in my attitude. I would work furiously to do something really well, only to find that I was hitting myself over my own head, saying, how could you try to be better than others?! I would feel that pull to correct someone, and then tsk-tsk myself for thinking I was smarter.
But was I right to hate myself for those things? Were they all evidence of an ugly, proud heart?
Now that I've finally lived long enough to have swung in two completely opposite directions, I have at least a view of that middle ground, called balance, and I think also known as the Gospel.
Of course, some part of my behavior was pride, and sinful. But I disagree with those Christians who pick up their swords and plunge them into their hearts, hoping to rip out the bad (and keep the good?). They berate themselves (as I did) for their sinful hearts, hate themselves for their lack of repentance, and most likely "rededicate" themselves to righteousness in this area or that, many times over. They think the key to getting rid of pride is discipline, and a strong commitment to humility.
We all begin in pride, but the antidote to pride is love, not humility. Striving after humility and ruthlessly attacking myself - mistakenly thinking I am attacking my sin - only lends itself to more pride if I succeed in conquering my bad behavior.
It's love that I want, and it's the only thing that will quiet my fears, anger and striving, and allow me to actually look beyond the urgency of my own needs. I don't need to "battle" anything.
"Jesus has handled that battle; you are okay." That's what I say to myself now, when I'm being proud and ugly. When I'm tempted to stare at my sin, I do my best to force myself to look at Jesus. The more I do that, the less proud I am. Love quiets me, and (again) it's humbling to have Perfection love a failure. Yes, I work toward obeying Jesus, but only because I love him, and only by way of loving him.
But after all that, after the Gospel has started softening our hearts and we are waking up to our ugly selves, our needy selves, and we start to grow in love and grace, what does humility look like?
This is what I've been thinking about most.
The last few years, you might have found me walking around (even dancing) while saying, "Look what I did today!", or "This is such a great idea! I'm so glad I had it!", or "This turned out so well!". I might have some red flag go off in the back of my mind that wondered if I was "tooting my own horn", or trying to draw attention to myself.
But it didn't feel like that.
The best way to describe how I felt was detached. It could have been anyone's idea, anyone's productive day, anyone's yummy dinner. And I felt really happy for them. And for me. The last few years I have become more compassionate and happier for others (rejoicing with those rejoice; mourning for those who mourn). I've become just as eager to delight in my own good works and good days - big or little.
Why not be as happy that God has given good gifts to me as I am for others? Why not delight in the goodness he poured into me? Why not rejoice over my own growth the way He does?
Here are some quotes that have led me to think these things:
"Thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools...
God wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another.
God wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favor that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbor's talents—or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognize all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things. He wants to kill their animal self-love as soon as possible; but it is His long-term policy, I fear, to restore to them a new kind of self-love—a charity and gratitude for all selves, including their own."
--CS Lewis (Screwtape Letters)
"Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less". --C.S. Lewis
"Don't imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call "humble" nowadays: he won't be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who's always telling you that, of course, he's nobody. Probably all you'll think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him, it will be because you feel a bit envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He won't be thinking about himself at all. There I must stop. If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realize that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you're not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed". --C.S. Lewis
Humility is not quite the opposite of arrogance. Arrogance is thinking more of yourself than you should. It does not follow that humility is thinking less of yourself than you should. Jesus was bold, frank, honest and strong. He did not shy away from greatness or compliments or followers or opinions.
Humility is embracing exactly who you are, as lowly or as great at it may be, and rejoicing in it because your Creator loves you.
Does it ever irk you when you give someone a compliment and they avert their eyes, mumble "thanks", and do everything in their power to avoid feeling good about what they've done? It does me. Or what about the person who does all that but is obviously glad you've finally noticed how great and wonderful and better than everyone else they are? Really?
I'm not encouraging anyone to walk around bringing up their good traits and accomplishments, or looking for praise. The opposite, really. When we're happy with ourselves, we're also happy with others.
Humble people are good listeners, who really want to see the good in others, and doesn't feel the need to interrupt and tell others all the wonderful thoughts they have on the subject. Humble people are quick to compliment others when they deserve it, but feel no need to flatter. When given a compliment, humility will say "Thank you!" with so much delight and agreement, it could take others by surprise. They don't seem to have an agenda when talking with people, and may seem self-absorbed at times, and selfless at others. This behavior doesn't really jive with the social norm of feigned humility, obvious narcissism, and hidden hostility.
So was I being prideful all these years, when I wanted to do well; when I thought something I did was good and said so; when I stated what I knew what I was good at? Perhaps some of my motivation was pride (and wanting to be loved), and it came out in my tone. But those behaviors alone are not proud. They are true and good in their proper context.
I'm looking forward to the day when I will know Jesus' love for me so well, that I can truly forget myself. I can't do that yet. I still interrupt others to tell them something "brilliant", feel rejected when someone else gets more comments on a Facebook post than mine, and feel jealous when I'm not invited to something. That's just the way it is.
But I'm so grateful to have more compassion for others, fewer yelling at my kids, and more willingness to really listen to others. God is gracious in his love to me.