Humbled or Humiliated (Part 1 of My Fall Series)

I was down before I knew it. Stumbling awkwardly across the broken terrain of Project 201 in LaCeiba, Honduras, there was nothing I could grasp to steady myself.  It was if the rug was pulled out from under me, as several sideward steps sent me tumbling to the ground.  I surrendered to the impact  with a thud, pain elevating up and down my left side. ” Give me a minute; I’ll be okay,”  I remember saying to those bystanders who rushed to my side. Our two sponsored girls stood at a distance, wide-eyed, as the woman who was supposed to be strong for them was sobbing in pain, helpless to help myself.  How could I help them?  I didn’t want to show my weakness but the choice was not mine.  I was humbled.

This was not how a mission trip was supposed to go. We had come to help.  To be salt and light to an impoverished community.  We had spent the morning praying over more than a hundred children.  It felt powerful committing them to the Lord, like newborn babies at a church dedication service.  Let the seeds of hope Mission of Mercy is planting grow in these young lives for your Kingdom purposes.  Let them transform this community for Jesus Christ.  Victory was ahead.  Not defeat.  Not my weakness. I was humiliated.

Lies of the enemy shouted in my pain, “See, you weren’t supposed to come…now you’ve ruined the trip for everyone…you missed God…you’re being punished…where’s your Protector now?”  Until the whispers of the Holy Spirit breathed into the core of my being, I felt for a moment hopeless. Then I was able to turn to the Truth I built my life upon:  “I work everything for good…do you believe?”  I was humbled.

No one wants to look weak, or in my case, old. It was humiliating to be on the ground looking up.  To have other arms pulling you up on a leg that wouldn’t work.  To be hauled in the back of a pick-up truck to a clinic.  To be whisked away in an ambulance to a 7-room Honduran hospital where Spanish speaking nurses stuck me with needles I hoped were sanitary. To have bed pans slid under you because you couldn’t walk.  Yikes!  I couldn’t even sit up.  I was humiliated.

I closed my eyes in disbelief.  This couldn’t be happening.  The pain was fierce every time they moved me to be examined or slid another x-ray tray under my weakened body. There was nothing I could do now, as others cared for me and made decisions about my future.  “Rest, my daughter.”  A sense of heavenly arms surrounded me, luring me to lean back and trust.  I humbly let go and let others do the work…I let others pray for me. There was nothing more I could do.  I was humbled.

I plan to share more about My June 11 Fall in future posts.  Ways in which the Lord is bringing good from my mishap.  Lessons I’m learning. Teachings that might help you in your afflictions. For now, I cling to these verses.

God gives grace to the humble.

Humble yourselves that he may lift you up in due time.  

After you have suffered a little while the God of grace will himself restore you

and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  I Peter 5:5-6, 10

That’s where my hope lies!