It’s hard to think sensibly of ourselves. We often look at our gifts one of two ways: Either with too much pride and entitlement or with a degrading view and lack of self-esteem. How do we learn to look at our gifts in a way that benefits the church and keeps us humble?

As writers, we endure many deaths in order to grow. Our “darlings” fall before our eyes as editors cut them from our work—from beloved words to entire paragraphs we labored over. This is the process of the outer bark and old leaves wilting away. But as writers, we can trust these deaths will sprout growth too—not just in our writing, but in our lives too.

Do you resist the rest your body aches for because the floors must be scrubbed today? Do you say yes to yet another project, another event, even though your schedule already has you weary? What if we stopped following the example of our children and instead obeyed God’s call to rest?

One day as I struggled to burp one baby while the other wiggled next to me, I muttered to my husband, “God should have given mothers of multiples the ability to grow an extra arm.” But as each day passed and more people offered to help, I realized that God had given us something much better than extra limbs—he had given us whole people who loved us and our children.

My dear sister who loves theology, I must ask: Has this knowledge and theology changed you yet? Has your abounding comprehensionfound its way to your heart so as to shape your life? Do the words you speak, the thoughts you think, the actions you commit represent the information in your mind?

What’s wrong with self-sufficiency? The problem is that we are far from capable of doing it all on our own. This misplaced desire to be self-sufficient causes a number of problems: legalism, broken community, and idolatry.

My theology-loving friend, I want to warn you of the same pride that could grow inside of you as you grow in knowledge. When we are not using our theology to love and serve God and those he has placed around us, our knowledge could be our downfall.

Maybe you’re not ashamed of your house. Maybe you’re ashamed of your body, your finances, your job, or your past. Whatever it may be, I want to warn you of the trap of pride that I fell into, point you back to Christ, and encourage you to find contentment in him.