Lay Down My Pride

*A note before you read this. After doing an audit of my blog in 2022, I have decided to leave content that speaks to the Christian I was at the time this was written. I no longer identify as Christian (and haven’t for a very long time.) I chose to leave these posts because it is who I was then and it is important to me to be honest and true with every iteration and evolution of self that I experience. I may decide to add comments to the end of posts like this as well

Why yes, it is the name of one of my favorite Jeremy Camp songs. It hits me where it hurts.

It starts:

Every single word I say, You know it before I speak.

You know every thought, the deepest part of me.

You draw me close and then I see…

Your presence is everything I need

To be the child that You’ve created me to be.

Can I tell you something I don’t often admit? I am needy. I need to start admitting it more. But, wow…this is difficult to talk about. I don’t want to talk about it because it is true. If I tell you I’m needy you’ll see a flaw, a pretty serious one. And to know what people are like and how they judge and abuse knowledge and get all self-righteous, it is scary to admit I have a weakness.

Well of course you already know I have weaknesses and flaws. You may have already found some and are just waiting to see if they show up again. For what? To maybe feel a little better about your flaws? Oh now…wait? Don’t go there? We both have a problem, friend. It’s called pride.

Pride causes me to want to hide things. Like this being needy. I don’t want to admit that I like it when people say something nice about me or about what I write. It feels good. And yes, God did give us the Spirit so that we will encourage our siblings. And we should do that whenever we can. But when I hear praise, I don’t want it to become my reason. I don’t want to write so that my reward becomes the praise. I don’t want to write so that my reward is a blessing. I want to write to bless Him. So as my Father, He will read it, smile and say, “She did listen!”

But I am needy. And I can’t “hear” Him. So He sends a sibling in my life to put an arm around me. A sibling to say, “That’s really good.” And I feel better…for a little while. It seems to be a never ending cycle. Needy writer writes. Feels uncertainty. Must be insane. Who else is like this? Depression. Discouragement God sends approval. Feels good. Yeah…it is good, isn’t it? I should be proud of it, shouldn’t I?

Wait.

Is this the point at which I’m supposed to pay attention? Did I just take the credit for what God gave me? Did I take credit for writing something? Did I just overlook the fact that God sent someone especially for me, specifically for me? Do I think I’m a better writer than someone else? Do I think I’m more deserving somehow? Is that “self-justification” kicking in? Am I believing that I am better at characterization? Plotting? Dialogue? Craft? And is that other person another writer who is writing for God??? How did I get here?

Pride.

I’m ready now to see it your way

Lay Down my pride

My desires

My demise

It would be far better for me to acknowledge on a constant basis that I am nothing without that which He gives. Better for me to admit I’m needy. Because He already told me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” and I ignored Him.

Ready now to see it your way

‘Cause I’m done

I’m through

Ignoring you

Now its true

I’m kneeling at the cross of your grace

2 thoughts on “Lay Down My Pride”

  1. I love that song, particularly because of how powerful the lyrics are.

    And I can relate to what you said. Pride is what God hates most, and yet it’s something I struggle with. It’s been interesting to see how in the past three years God has put me in situations where I needed to accept other people’s help. It’s humbling. But I think He wants us to be more interdependent on each other than independent.

    Thanks for sharing.

    Reply
  2. Thank you for sharing this. I have to admit that I’m there with you. I love comments on my blog; I love hearing, “Wow – that’s good writing when I show a short story or a piece of my novel.” I love showing my stuff, stomach crinched, hoping I’ll be loved an admired. It’s pitiful.

    Reply

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