Friday, July 15, 2011

Pride Begins With "I"

Have you ever tuned into the conversations you have with other people? Even the ones you have with yourself? And no, I'm not talking about 'hearing voices'. It's intriguing to me how many times we use the words "I", "Me", or "My" and go blissfully unaware of the lurking undertones of selfishness and pride.

I used to think that pride was as big as a boulder and, therefore, easy to detect. But I've come to learn that it's usually like a thin, translucent line stretched between two trees that trips you up as you walk along the path. If you get a little too distracted you'll never see it coming.

I won't kid you. I've gotten caught up in the thrill of success when a plan goes off without a hitch and I (even secretly) prompt others to see the role I played in making it happen. I've occasionally judged others under my breath with a sigh and disdainful shake of my head, thinking to myself, "I can't believe she..." I could go on and on with the I thinks, I feels and I knows, but you get my drift.

As I pondered this ugly habit and why it so easily creeps up on most of us, I was struck with the unmistakable kinship pride has with fear. Ultimately, when our automatic self-preservation kicks in, it s fear that usually flips the switch. Fear that we won't be recognized or respected. Fear that we'll lose something or someone. Fear that we won't get something we strongly desire or think that we need. Fear that we won't be found worthy of love and acceptance. Sometimes what we think we're missing is right there all along, but fear keeps us blind to it.

Don't be fooled! It's a trick. Satan fell for it eons ago when he started hungering for what he didn't even need. He was the greatest of all the angels in heaven; skillfully outfitted with unique qualities that were unparalleled. Yet, he created the biggest lie in his own magnificent mind, and it not only consumed him and a third of the angelic host, but it has sealed their doom. (See Isaiah 14:12-15).

I've asked the Holy Spirit to remind me that I, the creature, am not, and will never be or need to be, as great as the Creator. Humility is my friend and an effective gauge of my trust in the Lord. So I leave you with this: whenever your accomplishments or your personal ambitions begin to exalt the screenplay of your life to blockbuster status, remember... the sequel is a always a real downer.