An arrow to my heart. Thank you Lord! Waves of clarity and blessing in my head already.
I’m going to reproduce David’s little poem in full:
My heart is not proud, Lord,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore.
I have been struggling, struggling, with pride at work. Part of it is getting used to hierarchy. It’s been 20 years really, since I was as far down the org chart as I am in my current job. When I last had as much hierarchy, it was in the public service, where it is so absurd it teaches you no practical life coping skills.
So I’m struggling with people having a say over my work and getting approval for everything, not having much sway or autonomy. Partly just with the habit of it, partly with the acceptance of it.
But also I care. It’s Gody stuff, transforming lives physically and spiritually for the better. It’s the bloody salvation army. The last job I had was for a construction contractor. I could check my my soul at the door and just be their comms and marketing technician.
When I sit down, as I did on Friday, to write a prayer, as a template for churches across Australia, for more inclusive relations with Australia’s First Nations people, I bring all that I am to the task. And then someone fixes it. It’s a vulnerable place to be.
In this psalm, humility is described just right: it’s concerning yourself with what is before you, not with things beyond you. Focus, I suppose, but wise, careful and prayerful focus. I’m not 100% Salvo. But there is a large area of overlap, surely, where we can both be completely us, and have hearts for the same outcomes.
And heck, even the General probably has a little bit of himself set aside, a little teensy percent not Salvo.
In this psalm, humility is a discipline. David just have known how much talent God gave him, how superior his judgement and insight was to pretty much everyone around him. I don’t have his talent, but I got some.
He has calmed and quieted himself. He is mature. A weaned baby comprehends love that is not an instant gratification of need. They have been able to let that go, and probably experienced anxiety, cried in panic, during the process of learning.
I can do this. I can give more of myself to this job than I ever have before, satisfying myself but also being what they, and what God wants me to be. My own tiny part of his presence on earth, focussed on the things before me.
May I hope in the Lord, now and forever more! May I say it, learn it, and mean it: ‘I am content’.