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Speaking of remaining right-sized, that’s really what humility’s about, in a nutshell, isn’t it. I mean, c’mon, read and understand the following (and I’m speaking to myself here):

I’m attempting a month of humility:
Humility simply requires a man to think of his abilities and his actions as no greater, and no lesser, than they really are. Real humility then mandates that a man knows and is completely honest with himself.

I got one more day of Humble Pie before I close up shop and head back into Step 7. A month of reflection on humility: what it is, what it isn’t, how do I get it, keep it, maintain it. And what took me the better part of this month to figure out is this: it’s not attainable. Humility isn’t something I can grab, or activate. It’s the end result; the ash left behind when I burn down all my character defects.

Now here’s the catch: it’s always smoldering. Even when it looks like it’s out, along comes a prairie wind to fan it up again. So I don’t get to go home. This camping trip isn’t over. I need to sit right down on this log and watch the embers glow. It’s like the eternal flame: it needs constant supervision. Not that I mind the smolder; there’s a part of me that still equates total humility with being lobotomized.

But back to my original analogy: Right-sized rides. If you’re too short, no loop-the-loop roller coaster for you. Which is a good thing; otherwise you might fall out and die. But I feel like I’m getting gypped. And I puff out my chest and stand on my tip-toes and fake it on the ride. Where I then spend the next 3 minutes in holy terror, hanging on for dear life and asking God to get me through this, please, Lord, and I’ll never do it again.

Until the next time.

The mission: Understand that not all dangerous situations have signs which state minimum or maximum requirements. But when I’m in a situation that isn’t feeling right, I need to ask myself if I’m too big or too small, and adjust accordingly.

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