The Pomegranate Diaries

Not that I don’t do it in real life situations, because I do. But I am trying to get better about it. To be a sweet, bitterness-free lady about life.

So it’s weird that I would have an urge to start now.

Because everything in my life is so God-ordained and lovely at the moment, and I am so extremely thankful for that.

But I was thinking about something tonight talking to my dearest darling roommate,

and I realized I really just wanted to write down what I think about it before I just become bitter about it.

I don’t think I have the right opinion about this at all, actually I’m pretty sure I am in the wrong. But it doesn’t mean it’s still not what runs through my head.

I grew up in a church where my dad was the pastor, which seems like the beginning of an awful horror story, but I promise it isn’t. Yes, there are some parts of being a pastor’s daughter that are unfortunate: mainly everyone being in your life a lot. But I avoided judgement pretty well, so I survived unscathed, pretty much just enjoying the care of a lot of dear old ladies and a lot of opportunities, in music especially.

But the point of that is to say that my dad was so very humble, and such a blessing to have as a father and pastor. And the fact that I know that he wouldn’t want me to declare how amazingly humble of a leader of our church family he was is a true testament to the blessing he is. So now, the presence of really great pride complexes in church leaders is really, let me be completely honest, disgusting to me. Not that I don’t struggle with pride, everyone does, but it just is one of the hardest things for me to see in the church. Especially the types of churches that I’ve been exposed to lately.

I don’t want to go into everything about that, because honestly the blessings that these opportunities and the reasons behind this exposure has been the most beautiful thing, and completely outweighs the bad.

I suppose I will end this here, because I hate how self-righteous I sound. But I figured I could indulge myself just this once.

I want the church, and first my life, to reflect the love and character of Jesus. Clearly and simply.

And what’s more humble than being born in a barn to a 14 year old girl who’s thought to be disgracing her family in impurity, living all of your life as a poverty-stricken carpenter, and teaching a bunch of prostitutes and day-laborers? To care deeply for them, and to allow them into God’s Kingdom. To heal and reveal truth to them? To die an awful death reserved for the worst of criminals, and to be buried in a borrowed tomb?

Nothing. Nothing at all. But yet, Jesus’ humility did not change the fact that He was the Son of God, who was resurrected to life and bore the weight of the world’s sin once and for all.

Oh Jesus, help me to become humble willingly before You.