As I explore my word for this year—humility—I’m struck by how second chances at humility dominate our lives. Repeated practice. In listening to one another, in becoming who we’re meant to be, and in learning Who comes first. 

Second chance in the second half of life 

A few years ago, Keith and I gathered one evening with the other church elders and wives—all couples younger than us and all but one married longer—and the topic was marriage.

When the discussion circled around to us, I said, “Keith and I met in our fifties, the middle-to-end of the Second Act of life, so we had lots to learn about one another.” A second chance. “We also had three aging parents to tend, three adult children, and had spent significant amounts of time as single parents, living by ourselves. Two strong-willed people. It got hot sometimes.” 

“But your marriage worked,” one of the wives said. Her husband sitting next to Keith nodded.

“Yes, it did, and it does because we listen to one another,” I said. “We won’t make it to our 50^th—we’d both be well over 100—but we’re aiming for 25.”

This year, Keith and I mark 19 years of marriage. How’s that for a second chance!

Second time, third, fourth… 

Every February 2^nd, Keith and I watch the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, in which Bill Murray plays Phil Connors, an obnoxious, narcissistic “I make the weather” man in much need of salvation. Phil Connors gets stuck in a time-loop, reliving the same February 2^nd Groundhog Day. Until he gets the message.

Over a decade ago, on the 20th anniversary of the film, James Parker wrote in The Atlantic that the message is, “There is a way back, a way through the imprisoning mystery of yourself, a way back into life.” 

Phil Connors has no mentor, no guide – he’s on his own. Or is he, I always wonder. Every morning his clock radio clicks on at 6:00 am to Sonny and Cher singing: “I got you, Babe. I got you, Babe. I got you, Babe,” which seems like a promise, a way pointing to the humility Phil Connors must learn to break out of his incessant Groundhog Days. That is, that he does not control the weather, no matter how much he says so, or much of anything except his choices. Phil Connors ignores the lesson by trying to smash the clock radio’s endless repetition and by trying to commit suicide in various ways. But Groundhog Day’s plot allows Phil no exit and no satisfaction for his anger or sins of greed, gluttony or manipulation of power, his vacillation between self-love and self-hate. Eventually, he gives up trying to kill himself and decides to engage with and help others.

“He learns contentment, and he learns forgiveness, and he learns kindness,” Parker wrote. Phil Connors accepts life’s blessings while he tries to perfect his day. In the end, he wins both the girl he pursues and release from the endless Groundhog Day loop, but not before he experiences second, third, fourth, maybe thousands of chances and learns the most important lesson of all. He is not in control; no matter how hard he tries, Phil Connors does not save the old homeless man from death.

Second only to 

So, what connects marriage and Groundhog Day? The concept of “second only,” our earthly relationships being second only to our relationship with God. Humility, the ultimate practice we will never perfect. Humility, the opposite of pride. Humility, seeing ourselves as we really are and turning from ourselves to God alone. As the late Tim Keller said—as quoted in Richard J. Foster’s Learning Humility: A Year of Searching for a Vanishing Virtue, “The truly gospel-humble person is not a self-hating person or a self-loving person, but a self-forgetful person.” 

Self-forgetfulness takes a lot of second chances! How good and patient is our God.

Linkup with Five Minute Friday: https://fiveminutefriday.com/2025/01/30/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-second/