If a prideful person discovered the formula for actually overcoming pride, he’d be ruined.

It’s almost cliche to say this, but pride is one of my primary sin tendencies. I want what I want, and I generally believe I deserve it and am capable of getting it. [A few people have tried to convince me that I only like myself on the surface because I hate myself underneath. I appreciate their attempts at psychological excavation, but I’m afraid they’re wrong.]

I don’t believe I should hate myself; God made me and he likes me, so I like me too. But I know I’m far from all good. I can be kind of mean (even if only in my head) as well as intensely competitive to a dangerous degree, and I fight regularly against the pull to build some sort of empire (however puny in the grand scheme).

I like to win contests and make discoveries. So if I became the one who unlocked the secret to mastering pride, I would immediately become the most prideful person in the room. Because of pride’s toxicity, the best thing for God to do is disable me from “winning the battle” against it.

As it stands, I know who I am and why that is a problem. I know I can’t just work a little harder or smarter and fix myself, so I have no option but to constantly rely on God to be powerful in my weakness. And that is a good thing.

. . .

NOTE: In light of my 30th birthday and in honor of the guys who have all the fun, I’ll be offering thirty reflections in thirty days starting December 19th. Today’s post is #28 (see the so-far list here). The only rule is that I have 250 words to make my point. After that just stop reading. Thanks for making my blog part of your internet experience.