scraping the ice off the windshield of my soul so that I may see

My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad. Psalm 34:2

The nice thing about freezing mornings at the pool is the fog swirling up from the pool, muffling all sight and sound.  Except for the bright red clock piercing the cloud and the prickly whiff of chlorine, I am alone.  My eyes are fixed on its steady standard.  I look nowhere else to measure my progress.

And if truly my vision is fixed upon Him, humility falls into place.  He is humility, the complete knowingness of place.  Lewis says, “God is not proud...He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him.”  Because I AM.  

There is a place of rest and peace in humility.  An authenticity that speaks more than word or deed, a God-given grace.  He resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.  That speaks volumes to a world weary of elbow-shoving and hustle bustle.  There is no pushing through on one’s own strength to create a façade.  

Lewis adds, “To even get near [humility], even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert,” because it is all He, and none of me.  

Perhaps that why we are to come unto Him as a child, for such is the kingdom of God.  Flipping through some Marco shots yesterday,http://www.meridianionline.org/fotostorie/gente-di-pechino I was struck by the children’s joy of selflessness that gladdens the heart of all those who are near. 

May it be so.