A few weeks ago, God saw me fit for a fresh dose of humility. Over the course of two days, I experienced the following:
A panic attack that ruined a good night.
An overreaction at a family member.
And an uncomfortable realization that some desires were rooted in ego.
After these back-to-back experiences, shame tried to swallow me whole.
You must not be as grounded as you thought you were if these things still happen.
Brené Brown says, “Shame is that warm feeling that washes over us, making us feel small, flawed, and never good enough.”
Shame often sends us into self-loathing hideouts, from which we ultimately emerge a little worse for wear. In this state, we make grand plans to avoid future shame rather than working to understand and integrate the experiences that caused it.
Richard Rohr says, “Contemplation is not the avoidance of the problem, but a daily merging with the problem, and finding it’s full resolution…If you are brutal in your inner reaction to your own littleness and sinfulness, your social relationships and even your politics will probably be the same—brutal.”
Shame is just the other side of the ego coin.
Woe is me is one small turn away from Be more like me.
“How embarrassing, I thought I was better than this,” is the flip side of, “This person really needs to get it together.”
But when we see ourselves through the eyes of Christ in our proper bigness and smallness—as images of God and as imperfect people—our “faces are never covered with shame.”
If we don’t have to be perfect to be good, then we don’t have to be ashamed when we fall short of perfection. So here is my proposition:
Humility as an antidote to shame.
Rather than allowing shame to take control of our thought processes, humility gives us the space to be human.
You will fall short, we all do.
For those of us that grew up in homes or churches that used shame to shape our behavior, this will be a tough one to not only believe, but to practice.
In my recent experiences, humility and self-compassion would sound like this:
Even though my anxiety has drastically decreased over the years as I’ve come to understand myself, it can still overwhelm me. That’s just a part of the journey.
Just because I spend hours every week grounding in my spiritual life, I am not immune to anxiety.
Even though I’ve gotten much better at not being reactive with my family, there are still times when I am. I’m human.
Just because I’ve spent years learning about family relationships and mental health, I’m not immune to feeling angry when someone violates a boundary or says something unkind or provocative.
Even though my experience of failure showed me faces of my ego I’d never seen before, there are still moments when I get swept back up in how good it would feel to be seen as successful.
Just because I regularly reflect on my motivations and seek input from those who know me best, I am not immune from my own ego or sinful nature.
“With humility comes wisdom.”
Maybe embracing humility is the acknowledgement that we will never arrive.
Maybe the belief that one day we’ll rise above all of our impulses is a desire rooted in pride.
Maybe accepting our humanity as a constant rather than making efforts to be released from it on this side of heaven is where freedom lies.
Maybe this refinement is the process of our lives.
Richard Rohr writes, “God leads by compassion toward the soul, never by condemnation…God offers us, instead, the grace to ‘weep’ over our sins more than ever perfectly overcome them, to humbly recognize our littleness rather than become big.”
Humility is the aim of the Christian walk.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Humility is a part of the easy yoke that Jesus asks us to embrace.
We are loved exactly as we are.
Panic attacks, overreacting at our dads, and succumbing to ego motivations can all be experiences that bring us back to humility when we don’t allow shame to bury us.
Shame isn’t from God, it’s a form of social conditioning.
And if you’ve ever lived in a cycle of shame, if you’ve ever hidden out in your unworthiness and imperfection, you know that shame isn’t a yoke that is easy or light.
Shame says, “You should have done better.” But humility says, “you did the best that you could at that time.”
This is the yoke that’s easy, the burden that’s light.
Take it, and find rest for your soul.