...is a harder virtue to attain than humility. It's one thing to beat the junk out of yourself, but quite another to swallow your pride while another beats the junk out of you!
Every so often, I have to learn that lesson the hard way. During my second visit to Malawi, I let several teenagers from the village into my room to hang out and drink Sobo (the local sugar water). There were strict rules (set by Malawian workers at this guest house) against allowing locals into the rooms due to security concerns. The overseer of the house, Metrine, ordered the teenagers our and gave them a good chewing out. In a moment of supposed nobility, I accepted the blame, which in turn got me chewed out.
Afterward, I was a bit angry. Doesn't she know why I'm out here? Doesn't she know who I am? Doesn't she know what my motivations were? (This all sounds a bit like Reese Witherspoon, doesn't it?) My pride had been wounded by another and my initial impulses were all defensive, rather than contrite. On occasion, I need a good dressing down, even if I feel that the circumstances make it unwarranted.
Yesterday, I received my first "counseling statement" in the Army for having my rental car on post past the ordered deadline. Waves of excuses angrily flooded through my mind. There was no clear guidance on the matter (as evidenced by the number of high-ranking soldiers who also got statements). Clear guidance would have easily been accommodated. The large group of soldiers who got statements were the honest ones who acknowledged that they still had cars, while many others remained silent. I had no opportunity to explain the situation or defend myself. Ultimately, I got dressed down by my immediate supervisor, who happens to be our brigade commander--a man who I respect and who I don't want to let down.
Kept in various classes and meetings for hours afterward, I was unable to slow down and process and pray over these things. Instead, I was crabby, irritable, and distracted. At one point during a meeting, I made a list of "Things to lay before the LORD," and wrote down twelve grievances, a few of them self-directed, and then wrote out the "Bottom line": "This action was just. This is not who I am. This does not seriously affect my future. It was an accident. There is a purpose to all of this."
And all of that is true. In the face of confusing and convoluted circumstances, I needed to pursue answers from the people who most likely had the right ones (others told me the wrong ones). It didn't matter that I was on my pass and didn't want to be bothered with such annoying Army realities. I made assumptions in the absence of fact, and those assumptions were wrong. This action was not only just, but it also revealed a deeper spiritual issue as shown by the nerve that it struck. It wounded my pride.
A few of my soldier buddies thought it was funny that I was wrestling so much with my first counseling statement, but I knew I needed to wrestle with myself. It is easy to simply grow bitter or gossip or complain. I kept feeling those tendencies yesterday, and instead of simply indulging, I fought against myself, realizing that my pride needed a whooping. If the issue was truly the counseling statement, I might have felt warranted in making a defense. But from the spiritual side, my issue was pride, and that requires meekness.
If I was fully innocent, I could have counted my blessings as following in the footsteps of Christ, who bore the unjust reproach of others and blessed them in turn. But I was not fully innocent. The Christ I strive to follow is also the Christ I desperately need. Yesterday was my reminder.
