Humble Pie

Be careful what you pray for.

I've been told that before. Not because God's some kind of stickler, eager to pounce on a misplaced word. But because often times my mouth and my heart aren't in line. My mouth prays words that my heart isn't ready for. Yet.

And so I've been praying, "God, show me my sin. Humble me." It's easy to say. But is my heart truly in it? Is my heart truly in this prayer.... or am I just saying it because it sounds good to say?

I know humility is good. I know it's what I want. I know pride blinds me to my faults, and breaks apart my relationships. I know pride is ugly, and the root of my bad attitude. But breaking that pride is painful.

I think sometimes we don't even realize what we're praying for. And it's good... because if we truly knew what it would entail, we would never have prayed for it.

So. The past few weeks I have been eating "humble pie." And it tastes awful. It makes my stomach turn, and goes against everything I desire. And yet, it's somehow everything I desire. I'm tired of being blinded by my pride. I'm tired of looking down on others and judging them. I'm tired of lashing out at those who criticize me. I'm tired of thinking I'm capable of everything. These weeks have broken me.

And as I sink to my knees, appalled at my heart, my pride, and my wretchedness, grace surrounds me. It whispers encouragement. It lifts up my head. There is hope, even in my brokenness.

"God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." -James 4:6