A couple years ago I read a book about Azusa Street. For those who don’t know this historical lesson, I won’t insult anyone by trying to share it in a paragraph or more. I can only say it’s worth looking up the testimonies. Weigh for yourself the truth of the matter like you would any historical content. We live within a generation of first hand testimonies where time or historians haven’t yet been able to twist the stories of those who lived these moments.
In this book I read a profound thought, at least for me. The writer was talking about how he had got down on his knees in prayer to ask the curtains be closed upon his heels for any good deeds he might have done. I was slain in my heart by these words. I knew I was only being touched as deeply as I was because there lingered some “me” within. You know “me” don’t you? The place where we actually enjoy kudos for simply doing “the right thing” or “sharing the right word”?
It’s taken me a couple years to get a better understanding of this thought and even now, I have a lifetime to go in its lesson. A humble heart does not seek its own. (Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.)
I have come to love what the writer shared from his heart in that book I had read. If he shared a great act of love yesterday, he didn’t want to be hindered to remember it. He wanted to be freed only to look forward for what great kindness and love he could share today.