Sunday Devotion: Losing My Head

Janet Rubin

I recently took on the challenge of teaching ladies bible study. I spent the week prior to my first appearance preparing to teach on Galatians—taking notes, reading commentaries, and even listening to sermons online. An archeologist seeking the very best nuggets of truth, I dug into my Bible like I haven’t in years. To illustrate one of my points, I wrote a short story to read aloud. By the time Wednesday rolled around, I had enough material to preach a six-month-long series of sermons.

The morning of the study, I cleaned like a madwoman, styled and re-styled my hair, lit scented candles, and oh yeah, prayed. Lord, I really don’t know if teaching is my gift. Please help me do a good job.

The good news: it went well. My thoughts were well-organized, I spoke clearly, my story brought the women to tears. I got compliments. Two ladies even emailed later to tell me what a good job I’d done.

The bad news: I immediately lost my mind. Wow, I’m good at this, I thought. Maybe God has big plans for me. Maybe I’m the next Beth Moore or Kay Arthur! Perhaps instead of slogging my way through my first novel, I’m supposed to be holding national women’s conferences, where I speak to thousands of women and afterward do book-signings.

All week, as I prepared for my second lesson, thoughts of my grand future in ministry kept snaking into my mind. While I planned, I couldn’t help wondering what the gals would think this time. Maybe I’d be so good, they’d tell their friends. The group would double, then triple…

I’d whisk the thoughts away, meekly bow my head and reassure God that whatever He wanted was just fine. I was here for Him and the ladies.

Then I taught again. The lesson was okay, but my thoughts were a bit confused, my words stumbling, and I had a frog in my throat. My anecdotes didn’t seem as clever when I shared them as they had when I first thought of them. Afterwards, I felt sort of… icky. Later I talked to God about it. Lord, I did it again, didn’t I?

It’s so easy to let a little bit of praise go to my head. The moment my pride takes over, I start working to glorify myself rather than God. As I writer, I bounce up and down on the seesaw—plummeting to discouragement with every harsh critique, and soaring to ego-inflammation with every compliment. How on earth can we get balanced—learning to have a proper estimation of ourselves, remember that our gifts are from God, and that it’s all about Him?

Paul had some good advice in Galatians 1:10. He said, “Do I seek to please men? For if I still pleased men, I would not be a bondservant of Christ.” When Paul was a Pharisee his motivation was pleasing men, but after his conversion, his main goal was to glorify God.

It can be scary to give up the spotlight, but when we do, that’s when the big stuff really happens. Paul’s missionary journeys resulted in the salvation of many. His writings have taught, inspired, and convicted people for two thousand years. And his books are still best-sellers!

Lord, I can’t have it both ways. Either I’m living for You or living for myself. I admit I’m not humble, but I want to be. I know my pride gets in the way of You using me. Keep working on me, Lord. Teach me and change me and use me in whatever way you want—whether that means doing something big or small. Just help me to do it for You.. Amen