Pride. It raises its ugly head at the most inopportune times and catches me unawares...
January 1st is a day in which many feel that they have been given a fresh start, a clean slate, a new beginning. Last Wednesday, my new beginning ended in a less than stellar fashion. I had met and prayed with someone that morning, cheered on the LSU Tigers to victory, "happened" to run into a church friend who was encouraged by a brief visit, and got a few things checked off my list that afternoon. A red-letter day was in the works and I was feeling good about the way the new year was starting.
And then, I went to church. Normally, an occasion for fellowship, learning, sharing, and serving, my pride prevented much of that from happening. I got into an argument with someone during class about something that does not matter. It was so trivial that I will not enter into the discussion here, for it would only lend more merit to the topic than it deserves.
After the Holy Spirit prick of my conscience when I realized my large-headed pride had taken over my tongue, I withdrew my publicly verbal assertion, but had trouble dropping it in my own head the rest of the night. I would still, if asked, conclude that I was right, but being "right" was not what it was about, for my attitude screamed louder and more offensively than any truth at the moment.
I thank God for helping me recognize the prideful pattern I fell into that night. My greater thanks is that His mercies are new every morning and not just at the start of a new year (Lamentations 3:22-23).
