Highwaters and Humility

If there was ever a lesson my Grandpa Stearman taught me, it was humility. Never has such a meek and mild man walked this earth. He was the epitome of all things good and kind and patient. My grandpa was always unassuming and happy to take the back seat to let someone else shine. He was never jealous, he never questioned why others may have received more attention than he did, and he was always truly and genuinely happy for the good fortune of others.

These traits don't come quite so naturally to me. I have days where I feel extra sassy, and times where I just need some one's attention, and even moments of feeling a sense of entitlement. But I've always felt that God was upstairs doing his best to keep me in check, to help me keep that balance between healthy self-esteem and developing a sense of arrogance.

On those days when I'm doing my little turn on the cat walk, on the cat walk, yeah on the cat walk, I will absolutely trip. My heel will get stuck in a grate. I will dribble salsa on my shirt. I've always been able to laugh at my clumsiness, but I also always realize there is a lesson there too. Basically, JC telling me, "Don't get too big for your britches there, sister."

On days I travel for work and know I won't make it back in to the office, oftentimes I'll take comfy clothes to make the drive home in. This past Tuesday when I had appointments in Belleville and knew I'd be a little late getting back to town, I packed my t-shirt, some tennies and a pair of sweatpants I'd recently purchased, washed, and then not put on again. You can see where I'm going with this. I pulled my pants on and they BARELY touched the tops of my shoes. I'm talking serious shortage. Highwaters to the max.

Meh, I said to myself, I'll only be in the car anyway. So I buckle up, put the ol Ipod on shuffle, and the first song that plays is "I Will Rise" By Chris Tomlin. And I break down. We played this song at Grandpa's funeral and I still can't hear it without crying. But I love the song, and it makes me think of Grandpa, so I leave it on as I'm cruising through nothing but farm land. That drive takes about two and a half hours, and Grandpa stayed in the periphery of my mind the entire time. They're always good, warm, and comforting thoughts... but painful too, because that wound is still tender.

I was almost to Holton when Dallas said he was going to grab Sophie and do some work on his house. So I said I'd swing by when I got into town and see if he needed any help. He didn't, really, but he DID need to go to Home Depot. And then was hungry for Chinese food. And then I realized I needed to pick up some food for Sophie. And all of this in my high waters. So while I felt a little embarrassed, and did my best to pull them down as low as I could, somehow it didn't bother me so much when the really pretty girl at Petland looked me up and down as though she didn't approve. Instead of feeling inferior, a picture of Grandpa's over-all's came to my mind. Those striped, railroader over-all's with worn knees and a healthy layer of dirt symbolized so much more than just an outfit. They showed me that no matter what you wear or how you look, people will love you and respect you for being the person God wants you to be.

Grandpa took those lessons to heart and left an incredible legacy.

So now when I receive those little reminders of who I should be, and what a Godly woman looks like, I feel like He sends Grandpa to deliver the message.