A personal lesson in humility.

by Sarah Schwerin

The day was perfect. From my home office window, the midday sun shone on the bushes out front. A car drove by on the subdivision street. I typed away on my laptop, finishing up an article I’d been writing. Only a couple of items remained on my to-do list.

Another car drove by, then stopped. The mail truck? No, a dark SUV visiting our neighbor. I returned to my work until a loud sound stopped me.

Outside, the SUV sat at an odd angle. Something was wrong. I hurried out the door and down the driveway.

The car’s driver had exited. She and I stared at the post where my mailbox had once been.

She examined her car. “I don’t understand how it happened.”

I didn’t understand either. My neighbor’s box hung on the metal pole, while my box lay in the grass. Why hadn’t she used her backup camera?

The lady was apologetic and kind. I tried to be gracious as anger and frustration bubbled under the surface.

Tracking down a repair company consumed the rest of my day. I felt resentful and angry at the wasted time. Even though the driver paid for the repairs, her careless blunder ruined my perfect day.

A few months later, I’d pushed the mailbox debacle to the back of my mind. My teenage son and I had finished running errands. We continued chatting as I backed into our driveway.

Then it happened.

I felt a jolt and heard a bang. My heart sank as I looked at my wide-eyed son. 

“Did I just . . . ?” I didn’t need his answer, and I didn’t need to look behind me to see the result of the collision.

Putting the car into Park, I trudged over to the spot of the impact. This time my mailbox and my neighbor’s lay on the ground. The empty pole jeered at me. I had caused more damage than my neighbor’s guest, and the repairs would cost more than the previous accident.

This time I was angry and frustrated with myself, but also embarrassed. How could I have hit my own mailbox? I had a backup camera. There was no excuse for my careless mistake.

As I explained to my neighbor, then to my husband, what had happened, my problem became apparent: not just my driving but my pride. I thought I was better than the lady who hit my mailbox. I thought I was above making careless mistakes. I was wrong.

James and John

The disciples — James and John — thought they were above making careless mistakes too. They had been called and chosen by Jesus. The brothers walked with Him, listening to His commands. When their Rabbi sent them out, they carried His words and healed others. Imagine their anger and frustration when a town they went to did not accept Jesus.

Their reply to their Master shows the depth of their indignation: “Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them, just as Elijah did?” (Luke 9:54).

James and John must have thought to themselves I would never reject Jesus. Yet Jesus knew their hearts and the pride inside them. That’s why He rebuked them: “You do not know what manner of spirit you are of” (v. 55).

The disciples reveled in their new power and status. I can relate. When my mailbox fell for the first time, I sat behind my desk typing a devotion, secure in the fact that God had called me to be a writer and speaker. Like James and John, I was so caught up in the excitement of following the Messiah, I had forgotten where I had come from and Who had called me.

In James and John’s culture, rabbis chose the most gifted students to follow them. Those not chosen would practice a trade. Since a rabbi had not selected these brothers, they became fishermen. But when they had resigned themselves to their lives of second best, the Rabbi of all rabbis, the Messiah, called them. In the process of following Him, however, they forgot Jesus had chosen them when they were nothing. They forgot that Jesus — not the world but the Rabbi who changes everything — called them to follow Him.

When we follow Jesus, we must lay aside our pride by remembering where we came from. When Jesus called James and John away from their fishing nets, He chose them. Not because of anything they had done, but because of God’s grace — His undeserved favor. God knows we like to find fault in others, and we forget our everyday mess-ups. In the middle of our backing over mailboxes, calling down thunder on others, or whatever missteps we may take, God chooses us and calls us away from our prideful lives.

Weight of pride

A life of pride is a heavy burden. It’s a life where we must be perfect. No mistakes allowed.

A prideful heart says, “I have all the answers. I would never do what he did. I would never reject Jesus as other people have. I would never hit a mailbox.” A prideful heart is quick to judge, quick to get angry, and quick to say something it will regret in a few moments. Yet Jesus beckons us to lay aside our puffed-up egos and follow Him.

Jesus said, “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:29, 30).

God wants to take our heavy yoke of pride so we can live a life of humility. A humble heart says, “I don’t have all the answers, but I follow the One who does.” A humble heart doesn’t say, “I would never. . . .” Instead, it says, “I might . . . , but that’s okay because when I mess up, I confess my sins and am reconciled to the God who knows my prideful heart.” A humble heart always puts Jesus first and can see the next step to take.

Childlike faith

The example of an ideal disciple is not James or John or any of the other larger-than-life biblical heroes. It is the example of a child.

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them, and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:1-4).

A child must depend on his parents for all his needs. A child observes her parents so that she knows how to behave. He listens to his parents for daily instruction. In their hearts, the parents know that a child doesn’t have all the answers, so they must follow the Father, who always knows the best path to take.

From my office window, I see the black mailboxes on the metal pole. The mail carrier puts some letters in and drives away. I walk down the driveway and open the box. The door sticks and the pole stands at an odd angle now. It was the best the repairman could do after my accident. The mailbox reminds me that I still make mistakes. Like others around me, I’m an imperfect creation, but that’s okay. My mistakes keep me humble and relying daily on Jesus, my Rabbi, the perfect example of humility.