Words I Don’t Know Yet

Love. Breath. Breathe. Soul. Life. Be present. Listen, hear. Humility, gratitude.

Trust, hope, faith, obey.

Chesed, phronéō, ruach, agape — and words I don’t even know yet.

This is where I am this morning. As I understand Him. As I understand Love. I’ve been trained into gratitude, training my mind, my thoughts, one list at a time. But humility? What is that, really? It reminds me of that old choice: do I want to be right, or do I want to be happy?

All of this time I’ve carried a tension. A confusion. A blindness. And it is finally making real sense.

As Constant as Breathing

The Holy Spirit. I get it.

In Hebrew the word is ruach. It means breath, and wind, and Spirit, all at once. The Greek pneuma does the same thing. I don’t think that’s an accident. The language itself has been trying to tell me what I’m only now able to hear: the Spirit is as constant as breathing, and just as available.

It’s always been there. That’s the part that undoes me. I feel so precious.

And when I look back, I can see that I have heard, and I have obeyed, so many times. So many stories where I made a decision and cooperated with love and life in spite of the pain. I didn’t have the words for it then. I didn’t know that was Him. But it was.

He Showed Me Humility

I asked God how to hear Him. He showed me humility.

Gratitude and humility. My two most recent tattoos, one on each forearm, right in front of me every time I pick up a wrench or reach for a cup of coffee. I put them there before I understood them. I’m not sure I understand them now.

What I did recognize was my attitude problem. Even though I didn’t fully understand it. Even though I still don’t.

Here’s what I’m starting to see. The word humility comes from humus — earth, soil, ground. To be humble is to be grounded. And I’ve written before about stepping out of the boat and sinking, by choice, while I was standing on solid ground the whole time. Maybe humility is just this: staying on the ground. Constantly submitting to God and depending on Him for strength, for direction, for inspiration.

And getting it wrong is okay.

More than okay. Getting it wrong is cause for celebration. Because I am forgiven. Every time I miss it, I get brought back down to the ground, and the ground is where grace and mercy are. The full depth of love. There’s beauty there.

Just Stay There

The breath never stops.

I don’t know that I’ll ever fully understand this. I’ve started to think that’s on purpose. If I understood it all, I’d stand up, dust myself off, and walk away thinking I had it handled. Not understanding keeps me low. It keeps me from breaking posture.

He showed me that, too. The foot of the cross. Just stay there.

I used to think I had to climb toward love — work up enough hope, enough trust, enough faith, enough obedience, and maybe someday I’d arrive. But it doesn’t work that way. When I stay at the foot of the cross, hope and trust and faith and obedience follow on their own.

And what grows out of all of it is love.

I’m still learning the words. Chesed. Agape. Ruach. And the ones I don’t know yet. But I’m breathing. And He’s right here.