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How Our Pride Can Prevent Us From Healing



I would have never considered myself a prideful person until one night, the Lord so gently and necessarily convicted me of the subtle yet ugly pride stubbornly rooted in my heart.


I was journaling about my anxiety, about how it felt easier to shove it away than face it, but how in doing so, I was pushing Jesus away too. After some praying and reflection, I realized that my faith has been the one area of my life that I've been confident in, that I've been "good at", so to speak. I've been known for being the strong Christian, and that's how I saw myself. I felt like I had my faith put together, and that became a huge part of my identity. I loved having it all together, because when I was "strong", I felt like I had control. Like I could make it through anything.


This is so complex that I'm still processing it myself. But I allowed the Lord's work to get into my head and I began to take pride in it. I was proud of the mountaintop I genuinely didn't think I could get off of. I was proud of my consistency and my joy, all of the knowledge and answers I thought I had.


So when I wasn't on the mountaintop anymore, when I struggled with consistency, when I lost my joy and the answers I was so confident in began to feel hollow, my pride took a hit.


I wasn't as strong as I thought I was.


I wasn't as put together as I thought I was.


Maybe I didn't actually have all the answers.


Maybe the mountaintop doesn't actually last forever, no matter how secure you are in your faith.


This feels like a "duh, Ellie" moment, but to me, this was a big realization. A big moment of understanding, of a little bit more clarity on why God has felt so far and why my people have felt so far.


I don't like being weak. I don't like being seen as weak. And you think after being in a wheelchair for two months, I would have gotten over that, but to be weak in the one area I thought was secure? To be weak in my faith, that I've worked so hard at? It felt like a punch in the gut to hit such a low spot.


It felt like my identity was crumbling.


Because there were parts of my faith that became more about me than about God. Unintentionally and unknowingly, I found my hope in the mountaintop, in the good feelings, instead of solely in the truth of who my heavenly Father is, and so when the mountaintops and good feelings faded, so did my hope.


My pride built up a wall around myself, refusing to allow myself to be weak and struggling. It was so hard to admit to myself or even God the burdens I was carrying, let alone other people! I shoved the anxiety away, shoved away the lies the enemy was attacking my mind wish, shoved away all of the sadness, as if pretending would actually make it go away.


Spoiler alert, friends, it doesn't actually go away.


And in that moment between me and the Lord, I realized that in order to allow the Holy Spirit to work and heal the most hurting parts of my heart, I have to humble myself enough to let Him in. I have to start dissecting and destroying the walls I so carefully crafted around my heart so that His grace can flow through. I have to be weak so that He can be strong.


This is not comfortable. It's not fun. I'd actually probably much prefer to shove it away, but that has left me in a cycle of anxiety and numbness and temporary satisfaction, and that is not how I want to live my life.


This requires me to confess and repent of my sins, admit the ways I've failed, and genuinely invite the Lord to show me how to change (not just saying the right words, but meaning them).


This requires me to admit that I need Jesus, that my own strength isn't cutting it, and nothing else can save me.


This requires me to step back and actually evaluate the lies that I have been believing and the worldly patterns of thinking I have fallen into.


Yikes, y'all.


But this is the only way back to Jesus. To die to ourselves is the only way to live with Him. If I want joy, peace, and freedom, I have to wrestle with the hard stuff so that He can actually redeem these chains that I find myself in. If I don't want my anxiety and sadness to rule over my life, then I have to choose something or someone else to rule, and I choose Jesus.


I choose Jesus.

That is how we start.


We come to the Father and to our Savior, humble and stripped of our pride, acknowledging the ways that we have fallen short. We admit that we have gone astray but decide that right here and right now, we choose Jesus. Period.


And every day, we must choose Jesus. Again and again and again. Multiple times a day. We have to choose Jesus and set aside ourselves so that His strength may be exemplified and so that He can wrap us in the love and peace that we've been longing for.


It's not easy, but it is simple.


And it starts right now.


I shoved it off for so long because humbling yourself is hard! It's a little painful! But it's necessary and good. It's where new life begins and that's what I want. It's probably what you want, too. And I know for a fact that it's what Jesus wants for us.


Jesus, I choose You and I love You. Thank You for never giving up on me. Thank You for saving my seat at Your table, not shutting the door in my face when I tried to do it my own way. Thank You for convicting me of my pride and setting an example of humility. Jesus, I need You. I cannot do this on my own. I don't fully understand my condition, let alone the solution, but I pray that You would make me aware of the Holy Spirit's discernment and guidance. Teach me to lean into You, to rely on You, to break down the walls and the lies that have built up within my heart. Work, Jesus, and do whatever You want to do, so that I may live and walk in Your freedom again. Thank You for re-embracing me. Thank You for inviting me home. Amen.


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