Humility

One of the best, hardest, and most rewarding traits I’ve learned from my marriage is humility. This is definitely a tough one to learn--or it has been for me. I’ve noticed society is quick to place blame when something goes wrong. It’s never fun to be in the wrong, and it’s easier to find someone else to blame. If we’re willing to shoulder some responsibility, we like to blame it on the circumstances (“I was tired,” “I was hungry,” “I had just had an argument,” “I had a rough day at work,” “I was in a rush,” etc.).

My husband is an absolute saint in the humility category. He is always working to improve himself, and I have felt so honored to watch him become a bigger man in the short 4 years I’ve known him. He is so quick to correct himself. When he makes a mistake, says something he didn’t mean, or even just says something in a way he didn’t mean, it’s often only moments later that he’ll apologize. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Let me back up a tad. A large portion of my interest in this topic comes from how I was brought up…and how my parents were brought up. My dad has joked, “A teacher could’ve pulled a gun on me in school and my parents would want to know what I did to piss her off.” The bottom line is pointing the finger back at yourself. What could I have done differently? What can I do to change the situation? Those are the questions my parents were always making me ask myself. I always knew they were there for guidance and that if I needed help problem-solving, they were there to give me that boost. Instead of solving the problem for me, they wanted me to find the solution because I could. That is one of the most empowering things they ever could have given me, and something I am eternally grateful to them for.

As a society, I think too often we consider a question such as, “how can I improve?” to be a challenge to our sense of self-worth. That’s completely missing the point. It’s only self-deprecating if you’ve taken in a negative character trait as a feature you can’t change. It would be like punishing a shoe for not being a sock. My parents expected the best out of me--they knew what I was capable of and they loved me enough to help me get there.

The same goes for my relationship with my husband. We love and respect each other so much that anything short of our best is just unacceptable. It’s not a challenge to one another, it’s more of “I know you’re better than that. I know the real you--and you’re incredible!” In the process, we expect more of ourselves. Spending time beating yourself up has nothing to do with it. It’s picking yourself up, correcting what needs correcting, and moving on as a more confident person, a better person--for you and for the world around you.

My desire to improve stems most from my relationship with God. Would God give me more than I can handle? Would He want His children to fight and argue and blame each other for every little thing?

In I John we read, “God is Love.” That pretty much sums it up. There was a book I read in high school that reminded me that Love isn’t something God has a large quantity of. God IS Love. So, would Love want people to speak unkindly? To hurt? To blame?

I’ll let you answer that one, because I know you can.

It wasn’t until this week that I realized how much my marriage has made me grow in the humility department. I was running late for work and was looking for the top of the blender to make a quick smoothie before running out the door. My husband was in the kitchen, and in a hasty tone, I asked him if he’d seen it. It turned out it was still in the dishwasher, which he was still in the process of unloading at the time (as I said, he’s a saint). I grabbed the top out of the dishwasher and went on with my morning. He was quiet for some of the car ride to work and finally said, “Sometimes it hurts my feelings when you take your frustration out on me.” He then gave the example of my looking for the top of the blender a few minutes earlier.

At first I was slightly confused. My first instinct was to snap back that I didn’t mean it that way, that I was in a rush, and he shouldn’t be so sensitive.

Ouch.

I took a moment, held my tongue, and thought about my few panicked moments looking for the blender part. I had been totally unaware of the tone of my voice and my body language. Instead of throwing the problem back at him, I thought about what I could have done differently.

Could I have said it nicely?

Yes.

Is it right for me to snap at my husband for something that’s really my fault?

No.

Could I have gotten up when my alarm went off instead of hitting the snooze button that caused the morning rush in the first place?

Yes.

Bottom line: was there anything different I could have done to prevent the problem?

Absolutely.

I apologized for my tone and for snapping at him in my rush, and I made a mental note to work on my tone when I’m frustrated…and to get up earlier.

As it turned out, since I didn’t mean to act irritated, he also wanted to work on not letting something so small hurt his feelings.

Taking those extra steps to express humility wasn’t necessarily easy, but I also know my husband is constantly doing the same thing for me. It’s one of the reasons our marriage is such a safe home for both of us. How we talk to each other and how we come off to the other person is important. I always want my husband to feel my love and support, and I don’t want to take that away from him for even a single moment.

It got me thinking about society as a whole. What if everyone were willing to express humility in every challenging circumstance? Wouldn’t it make it easier to correct yourself? Wouldn’t you expect the best of yourself and others instead of expecting the worst? I don’t think you want, “I don’t have time to be nice,” to start cropping up in your daily routine.  

These changes aren’t necessarily easy and don’t always happen overnight. It takes moment-by-moment effort and a desire to improve yourself. Even small goals make a difference. Smiling more or spending an extra second before responding to an annoyance when you’re not feeling particularly loving can be life changing in the long run. No one said humility was easy. I know I could get into all sorts of cliché items right now, but in all sincerity – it does change the world. It changes both your world and those you come into contact with every day. The “old” you begins to fall away and a “new,” nicer, truer version of you comes to light.

Who wouldn’t want that?