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The pride monsters
lurking in my shadows,
Tell me what's real
is what I must earn,
what
I can do on my own
wages, and prizes, rewards too
nothing truly worthwhile is ever free.
I can still hear their echo:
"Gifts come with
strings not
just attached, but tightened
around your naive little neck."
When I tell them to go away,
they say no and just
talk back,
we don't
lie, you're such the fool.
Finally, at wits end, I hear
a whisper
like the wind swirling
deep, deep within:
"The
only way is to turn to Him.
In Jesus Christ alone is sure victory.
You must pray; tho' not for, but from."
Dear Lord!
Pride goes before a fall.
Pride goes before destruction.
Pride is the root of all
life's rubble.
And even worse, the man
of pride is
out of fellowship
with God.
Like you cleansed His temple,
turn the tables of
the pride in me.
Chase the proud changers
to the exits forever
and ever out.
Your Spirit lives in this
house,
make it holy like
God so wants it.
I declare this very day,
in You,
in Your love, name,
and such power,
all signs
of pride that inhabit me and
render me contentious, be so scattered
to the earth's violent winds that
quarrel in no longer possible.
I thank You for Your everlasting
"Yes"
to all promises made
through You
as my
Savior and Lord. Amen.
Proverbs 11:2, 16:18, 28:25
Matthew 21:12-17 |
