My daughter inherited her mother's propensity to exaggerate. When she was little, her imagination knew no limits. My reputation was at risk every time she opened her mouth. The year she was eight, she had the misfortune of breaking several bones within that year. The doctors were starting to look at me funny when I took her in to be examined following yet another injury.
 
On Easter Sunday, Melanie rode up on the front lawn with her bike, lost her balance, and took a tumble. Her finger immediately began to swell.  The next morning, I sent her off to the school nurse to evaluate whether or not I should take her for an x-ray. Marie came down to my classroom to talk to me. "I think it is broken," she said. "And I told her, no more doing flips off the curb on your bike.  It is too dangerous." I rolled my eyes. Another big fish tale had been invented.
 
As Melanie and I drove to the doctor, I gave her a stern warning. "No more big stories about your finger," I told her. "Just tell them exactly what happened."
 
The doctor and nurse were already regarding me suspiciously when we explained the reason for our visit.  Another broken bone? Was this mother some kind of child abuser? Turning their backs on me, they focused on the poor abused child. "Tell us how you hurt your finger," they coaxed my daughter.
 
"WELL . . ." I held my breath.  Here it came. "I was riding my bike, rode up on the front lawn, and fell over and hurt my finger. And that's REALLY what happened.  Right, Mom?" She gave me a big wink.
 
Oh, brother. I went home and told Steve, "I am expecting social services momentarily to come and take our children from us."
 
I don't know about the rest of you mothers out there, but I got more than I bargained for in motherhood. Rather than being my crowning glory with their unlimited adoration and impeccable behavior, I found that my children were more likely to be used by the Lord to keep me humble. Don't get me wrong: they were and continue to be wonderful children. But my life as a mother had its unexpected share of embarrassment and failure.
 
Yet failure and embarrassment have their purpose in our lives. We, of course, love the feeling of success and accomplishment, especially when it involves spiritual matters. We pray for God to bless our efforts and protect us from having things go wrong. But God's agenda for us seems to include a good dose of humility-causing circumstances, even in our attempts at service for Him. Why?
 
God is more interested in our relationship with Him than in our successful works. He knows how quickly we become self-sufficient. He knows our tendency to do even His work in our own strength.  Jesus was very aware of this and so warned His disciples the night of His betrayal: "I am the true Vine . . . abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me . . . for apart from Me you can do nothing." (John 15:1, 4, 5) Don't get the idea that your success rests on your talent for preaching or your winning personalities. Your effectiveness as apostles will be in direct correlation as to how well attached you are to the Vine.
 
Humiliating circumstances are a sure-fire tool to bring us back to our original roots, that relationship that established God as the giver of grace and us as undeserving people. They force us to confess our faults, and acknowledge our inadequacies.  We once again understand that we cannot accomplish God's work in our own strength.  We are drawn to the feet of our Savior, eyes once again wide open, determined to operate in His strength. Only good can come of that process. "Submit yourselves, then, to God . . . Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up." (James 4: 7, 10)