Mud Pies and Sand Castles

"I asked God to humiliate me..."

I will my facial muscles to stay relaxed as the tall son begins, but inside I hear myself scream, "No! Don't ask for that! He might give it to youll!"

"Oh," I calmly respond, "why is that?"

He explains. "At church recently, the preacher talked about humility. I realize that a lack of humility is what has gotten me into a lot of the bad situations I am in right now, so I thought I should ask God to help me work on it."

I smile and nod. I want to applaud his desire for God's shaping, but I can't help but wonder if he knows what he is saying. Is it a homeschooler's error in word choice? Surely he means "humble me" not "humiliate me." Most of us have been foolish enough to ask to learn humility, but even a fool knows not to ask to be humiliated!

And maybe I recoil from the word and what it could mean for him because I realize I identify with it right now. These tests, these trials, these heart-aches of pain upon pain upon pain - they don't feel like the refining fire of humbling - they feel like humiliation!

I read in Jeremiah recently - the accounts of God's dealings with His people - the punishment for the arrogance and ungratefulness. He makes them a byword among the nations; He breaks down their safe places; He brings them "harm and not good" (...the Jeremiah passage {21:10} that rarely shows up on journal covers and graduation cards and lists of favorite verses like the one a few chapters away...); He punishes; yes, He humiliates them...

And I resonate with Judah, that nation cast away from God's favor - the hanging of the head in shame, the bearing of a crushing burden, the pain of existence. There is no Paul and Silas perspective here - no songs offered up knowing we are suffering for Christ, persecuted for doing good. No, this doesn't feel like a martyr-moment, it feels like a criminal-sentencing; not a slight course-correction, but a bone-breaking slam into an immovable wall that brings about a complete change in direction; not a fruit-producing pruning, but a complete uprooting to be thrown on the burn pile - to be reduced to ash... and dust...

"God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes." Job 30:19

"For our soul is bowed down to the dust; our belly clings to the ground." Psalm 44:25

The wailing of Jeremiah in Lamentations echoes my heart cries:

"He has walled me about so that I cannot escape;    
   he has made my chains heavy; 
though I call and cry for help,    
   he shuts out my prayer;
 he has blocked my ways with blocks of stones;    
  he has made my paths crooked.
I have become the laughingstock of all peoples,   
the object of their taunts all day long. 
He has made my teeth grind on gravel,
    and made me cower in ashes;
 my soul is bereft of peace; 
   I have forgotten what happiness is; 

so I say, “My endurance has perished;
    so has my hope from the Lord.” Lamentations 3:7-18

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Then comes the text from her who walks alongside - runs, actually - and she says she prays for us as she runs, and she never fails to send encouragement as she is prompted. Her so young, but so wise to seek the presence of her Father and pass along His love to others. She texts with a prayer for joy for our week and sends an "awesome song": 
Beautiful Things. 

I've heard it before, but I listen again with different ears - 

"All this pain...I wonder I'll ever be the same..."

And the tears flow.

"Could a garden come up from this ground at all...?"

Could it? I don't see how... Not now...

But then the chorus - and I am undone.

"He makes beautiful things... 
He makes beautiful things out of the dust...
He makes beautiful things out of us..."

And I realize I haven't ever thought of it that way... I tend to think of God working incredible change in our lives slowly, sin gradually ebbing away, faith steadily gaining preeminence. And I forget the miracle of limbs and organs, and systems and potential that was brought together from...DUST - that slippery matter that has so little importance in my life. As a child it represented inedible mud pies and tide-swept sand castles. As an adult, it represents mess and sloppiness and the number of days [so many!] between using of the broom or the dust rag. I merely work to get rid of it. 

But God - He bakes with it! He takes what I call dirty messes - useless and shameful, and turns them into unfathomable wonders. New life is possible from the remnants of the old.

And so I unfurl my clenched fists in an act of capitulation, and rest in this place, believing He can turn this humiliation into celebration.

Jeremiah - he wept, but he saw the truth too - and I say it with him:

"But this I call to mind,
    and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
 they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness. 

'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
    'therefore I will hope in him.'
It is good that one should wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.

 It is good for a man that he bear
    the yoke in his youth. 
 let him put his mouth in the dust—
    there may yet be hope;

 For the Lord will not
    cast off forever,
 but, though he cause grief,
 he will have compassion
    according to the abundance of his steadfast love;

Who has spoken and it came to pass,
    unless the Lord has commanded it?
 Is it not from the mouth of the Most High
    that good and bad come? 

Why should a living man complain,
    a man, about the punishment of his sins?

 Let us test and examine our ways,
    and return to the Lord! 

Let us lift up our hearts and hands 
   to God in heaven."    Lamentations 3:19-41

"...to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified." Isaiah 61:3

"For you, O God, have tested us;

    you have tried us as silver is tried.

11 

You brought us into the net;

    you laid a crushing burden on our backs;

12 

you let men ride over our heads;

    we went through fire and through water 

yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance."

  Psalms 66:10-12