For Monday, March 8

First, I confess, I am a day behind in my reading.  Well, not now.  I caught up today (Tuesday).  I do hope there are some of you who are reading along with the Small Surrenders (by Emilie Griffin), with daily Scripture readings, and/or with this blog, even if this is not a daily thing.  Feel free to comment (all comments are moderated) and interact with us online.

Secondly, I have to say, I’m sort of glad I’m a day behind.  I’m not sure I would have heard Monday’s devotion on Monday, if you know what I mean.  I wasn’t so docile on Monday.  Too much on my plate.  And, yes, I just said docile.

Docile.  Not a word you come across in our every day language and certainly not a word I want applied to me regularly.  Sounds like an old dog.  And I am not an old dog (although I do think I can still learn new tricks!)  It reminds me of a conversation we had in Sunday School (yes, a Sunday School for adults – great fun, good conversation, growth in discipleship, it’s a good thing).  Discussion about the word meek went round and round.  Does meek mean weak?  Meek sounds like a squeaky little mouse (why is it that animals are coming to mind today…?)  Does meek refer to humility?  If so, what does it really mean to be humble?  A doormat?  I think not.  Okay, I digress…

As disciples we are called to be meek.  And docile.  So, the word “docile” itself is difficult to find in the Bible.  Eugene Peterson uses it in The Message in chapter 45 of Isaiah to talk about how people from all over will follow Cyrus (a pagan ruler) because God has chosen him and is at work through him even though Cyrus “does not know” God.  See Isaiah 45:1-14.  Very interesting.  Because this idea of God working through a pagan ruler would be so shocking to the Israelites, part of the chapter is God questioning the people: “Do you question who or what I'm making?  Are you telling me what I can or cannot do?”  Well, that would be like the clay arguing with the potter about what the potter is making out of it.

Docile means ‘open to being led.’  Me? Docile?  Not so much.  I want to be.  I want to be open to being led by God, no matter what.  I don’t want to be the clay that argues with the potter or the fetus complaining to the mother about being cooped up inside her belly.  Sort of a funny image, but it makes sense since I seem to spend far too much time arguing with God, or following God wherever God leads, but kicking and screaming as I go.  This, for me, is a small surrender I must make every day if I want to attain the docility we are called to.  Today is a new day.  Lord, let me be that old dog today.  Let me be docile.