There's a girl at the school we're ministering with whose name is Noella.
I'll be her sponsor after I leave and I'm filled with joy. The fact that I get to tangibly continue loving her is a gift from the Lord. Because she has my heart.
Our van pulls up each morning and as we pile out, her scream of excitement is one of many, yet still often the only one I hear. She sprints toward me and I throw my backpack and my pride to the ground as I scoop her up. She is beautiful, precious, and beloved.
We sit for hours with different kids but Noella seems to consistently be on my shoulders or in my lap. Smiles are a constant. She giggles as her fingers run through my hair, mixing in the dirt and the humility. The Kingdom of God shows up in full force from 8:00 to 12:00 and there really isn't much else that matters in those hours. He comes because the last place our thoughts can be found are with ourselves.
I may offer love to Noella each morning but she has blessed me in a lesson worth more than anything I can give.
A lesson in humility.
We depart exhausted, disgusting and spent. But it would be wrong if we didn’t. To think of my individual self instead of preferring her, any other child, or even a team member does not reflect the heart of Jesus. Pride and arrogance can't reside in His Spirit or His Kingdom because the facets of the Lord are realized by the filter of humility.
And the beauty of it all is we simply can't emulate this without Christ in us. We can try as hard as we want, but our sin remains and thus we lack the capacity to forgo conceit and egotistical priorities.
But when Noella grabs my hand or laughs as I kiss her cheek, Christ looses my pride from within me. He casts it aside. In those moments, she matters infinitely more than I do. All that is significant or of any importance is how she receives the agape of Jesus I attempt to shower her with.
Pride disappears and God pours humility in its place. And He pours a lot. It's begun to spill over into how I think of my concerns or needs outside of those four hours. Precedence and priority the self so often demands is muffled and instead I begin to hear the desires of others with clarity.
Philippians 2:3 charges us with this. Selfish ambition doesn't open up heaven to bring the glory of God here. Vain conceit only promises a life filled with pain and regret. Considering others better than ourselves really is what Jesus would have of us. And besides, I know God hasn't called me across the world for the sake of His Kingdom to remain clean and prideful. No, my resurrected Redeemer is filled with joy as He takes me caked with dirt and humility.
And this humility paves the way for the compassion we can't otherwise portray. It is the reason a humble spirit is vital; compassion for others just can't exist without a contrite heart. One might argue it can, but failure will eventually come. Because pride will not move over enough to make room for the degree of empathy Calvary commands. The only solution is Christ residing in us to make the difference.
So as I visit the school one last time tomorrow, I'll say goodbye to Noella. I'll still have a relationship with her, but not like I've had the last two weeks.
And I'll painfully walk out the door and pick my backpack up, but I'll keep my pride lying there. I'm leaving with a lot of dirt and humility; I really don't have room for arrogance.
Christ in me won't allow it anyway.
