Humility comes easily to me, I am proud to say. That's because, as someone once observed in a classic slap down of a rival, I have much to be humble about.

However, I am not alone in that—a realization that is perhaps the biggest takeaway from last month's International Christian Retail Show (ICRS), as the dust begins to settle, and I try to reflect on what really mattered about the event.

The fact that the show was successful, disproving the doubts and fears many of us had, is important. All credit to CBA for putting on a good event, to the suppliers who supported it and the retailers who turned out with enthusiasm.

But for me the real story is not so much the nuts and bolts of what happened. It's that the rightsizing of the show also brought our industry a refreshing splash of humility. With much of the razzamatazz missing, there was more room for what really mattered.

Observing the mostly smaller and simpler booth spaces of many suppliers—contrasted to the more elaborate displays of the past—one industry friend nodded approval and commented that in recent times there had been an "element of ego" in some exhibitors' presence. I think he had a point.

Somewhere along the way as Christian product sales grew, we seem to have gotten a bit sidetracked. Legitimate celebration became inappropriate glorification. We started to believe all the good things being said about us (and sometimes by us).

Some authors and artists swanned around past industry trade shows with their minders in tow as though they were royalty, treating their signing sessions more like audiences. I remember one musician who shall remain nameless who referred to me on introduction as his "three o’clock." Nice.

That was in sharp contrast to one author pair I met at ICRS this year. No names, but they made a movie about marriage and wrote a best-selling tie-in book. It may have escaped your attention, but their names are not on the cover—because, they said, the contents were really just God's ideas, so how could they take any credit?

This was not the sort of faux humility you sometimes come across in our circles. It was simple and sincere—as was the attention given in Denver to a colleague by the author of a multimillion-selling staple of many Christian stores. He may be a big name, but he's still at heart the same pastor—counselor he was before hitting the New York Times list.

Then there was CBA President Bill Anderson kneeling for prayer during the industry prayer time, for which organizers had to drag in some more chairs. Quite a difference from a few years back when virtually no one turned up for a similar event.

Adversity has a way of reminding us that, contrary to our hopes and best efforts, we're not actually in control. Yes, God works in and through and with us, but that's really more about His grace than our endeavors.

I am not suggesting that we all wear John the Baptist-style hair shirts and publish only black-cover Bibles. Let’s continue to bring creativity to our work, ensuring a timeless message continues to connect in changing times. Marketing and merchandising has its place. So does advertising and promotions. And there's a measure to which we should take pride in what we do.

But, as we press on, let's remember that pride doesn't just come before a fall—it was the fall.

Wanting the praise and recognition that is due only God is what got us all into this mess in the first place—the one we are supposed to be trying to help Him clean up with the materials we produce and provide.

Paul, who went from boasting of his religious credentials to identifying himself as the chief of sinners, reminds us: "Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment."

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