Pride goes before destruction,
a haughty spirit before a fall.
My heart hurts, Jesus. What has become of us, Lord? We attack. We defend. We talk over. We talk around. We lie. We deny. And we wonder why we can’t connect? Do we even want to connect anymore? Or do we want to win, win, win? Hold our ground. Use each other as steps to ascend, make it to the top, proclaim our victories, revel in our delusion of royalty?
Please, Lord, not me! Humble me. Let me not be offensive to you in any way, even if I may be offensive to another, even if I lose. Let me not judge myself good or bad, leaning on my own understanding. Help me to acknowledge you and the absolute truth of your word as my standard for thought, word and deed always. Let your approval of me be important above all other ratings. For you are my God, Father. And I am your died-for daughter. Amen.