Of all of the struggles I have in this life, pride is by far the biggest. It’s something that I consistently try to keep in check (and consistently fail to keep in check). I usually just push it aside as something that isn’t a huge deal, but it really is, and it often takes grandiose reminders to put me back in my place.

Today was International Chapel at my college, and it is one of my favorite days of the year. I always look forward to singing in 5 or 6 different languages and hearing scripture read in several languages as well.

To preface, language is absolutely fascinating to me. I could talk about how weird and quirky English is with any stranger I meet, and I have loved learning Spanish in the few classes I’ve had. I’ve worshiped in Italian and Spanish, and those church services are forever etched in my brain. I think languages are so amazing.

But the most amazing thing about worshiping in multiple languages is the reminder of how big God is. He isn’t an American God. He’s not even just an English-speaking God. He speaks every language imagined, and that is so beautiful.

So, while I’m thinking of how devastatingly awkward I am when I interact with certain people or what I’m going to do next week, God is encompassing the entire universe, conversing with his beloved children in their native tongues.

I am not the center of the universe, and that is beautiful.

Praise be to the God of all languages.

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