I often pray to God for the gift of humility. It’s a worthy New Year’s goal, but not always easily attained.

So, I ask God for it, not guaranteeing that my heart is always in it. This isn’t to say that I have extreme vanity, or excessive pride. But I know how hard it is to admit that I’m wrong. I know that I can be quick to judge and criticize, or think I have a better answer than others. 

St. Vincent de Paul wrote that the most effective weapon against Satan is humility, and Jean Vianney said humility is to the virtues as a chain is to a rosary. Regardless of what level of humility I am lacking, it is something deserving of my efforts. So, I ask God. But my request is that the gift must come without any collateral damage to my husband or children.

If God were to teach me humility by having me thrown in prison for keeping chickens illegally (which I don’t … anymore), I certainly would learn a lesson, but my family would, hopefully, feel the loss of their wife and mother. Everyone would know they were the family of the illegal alien chicken keeper. They would pay for my lesson.

Or, imagine that I leave a restroom in a public place, and my skirt is tucked into my tights. Totally a moment of humility, killer of any and all vanity forever, but everyone pays the price.

There are so many situations that would effectively put me in my place and teach me my utter littleness, but the pain shouldn’t have to be shared. I know it might be inevitable, or at least a method of last resort, to include those I love in my growth in virtue, but I’d like to avoid it if at all possible. They have their own fights to fight.

So, I’ve been investigating ways to grow in humility, and I thought them worthy of sharing with any fellow Catholics suffering from various degrees of pride. 

The first step is to develop a sense of authentic gratitude. Once we realize how very much we have that has come to us without deserving it, or even working for it, we must be humbled. A daily moment of thanksgiving, with a deliberate accounting of the day’s blessings, is a practice I think all Christians should have.

It is not only a part of expected Catholic prayer (adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, petition), it is a promise of growth in many other virtues. When we realize how very little we are, how fleeting our “great” accomplishments are, we must naturally remember the reality of our situation.

I read recently that every parent should be working toward helping their children attain heaven before they ever consider helping them attain Harvard. That idea reminded me of how finite our earthly works are when they aren’t ordered towards knowing, loving, and serving God. (Of course, a prestigious career can be a pathway to virtue when it is primarily used to glorify and serve God.)

Another deliberate step toward humility is intentional listening. I have a habit of excitedly leaping in to share my thoughts or add on details to others’ stories. I really need to practise just shutting up and listening, asking more questions, and becoming authentically interested in the thoughts and lives of others. 

I would suggest that a pathway to the practice of “shutting up” is regular adoration of the Eucharist. The majority of the time should be in silence. It is a time of listening, pondering, waiting; the perfect exercise in the practice of being quiet.

When I find that I’m hoping for a compliment or some kind of acknowledgement, I want instead to be the first to compliment the other person I am with. I don’t mean superficial things, “Oh, you look nice,” but finding sincere things that are praiseworthy in others. This could easily be in my children and husband, and actually should be my first priority. 

The goal here is to think less about myself, my opinions, accomplishments, and Facebook posts and more about what is pleasing to God. 

Another way to grow in humility is by practising honesty. Humility is tied to the virtue of honesty. I can be very quick to think up ways to excuse myself for some mistake, but I know that anytime I am truly honest with myself, my talents, and my downfalls, I will have to be humble. When I simply answer a question, without nuance or excuses, just an honest, “I don’t know the answer to that religion question,” or, “That kitchen fire was totally my mistake,” or, “I completely forgot to make dinner,” I am growing. Don’t you appreciate it when others are honest? 

I remember once when a friend of mine, very smart and talented, answered me with a short and sweet, “I don’t know.” I was so unused to hearing that. It was such a meaningful thing to hear someone I respected so much admit, without fear, that they simply couldn’t answer my question. 

The last method I will mention is the act of forgiving myself for being imperfect. I do not mean excusing myself, but acknowledging my weaknesses and giving myself the time to just keep working on them. I cannot save myself. All of my little steps toward humility depend upon the grace of God, who is all good and merciful! 

“For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with victory.” (Psalm 149:4)

Share your thoughts and contribute to the ongoing conversation by sending us a Letter to the Editor.