I Can See...Blinded by Pride

This past week I successfully finished hanging the lights in the rest of my apartment. The ones in the bedrooms were particularly hard. My arms hurt, I had to buy more concrete drill bits, and try all sorts of little tricks to try and make things work. I was stubborn enough though to keep persisting even with the frustrations. Or was it pride...I find myself stubbornly resistant to asking for help.

Just before I returned to MN, I had some beds that I needed to move between the two bedrooms. I figured that I would have no problems moving them by myself. Besides, who was I going to call in the middle of the day that would be able to find time before I finished moving them myself? So, I moved the two beds. I didn't even scratch the doorframe too badly. That evening as I looked down at my arms, I saw huge bruises beginning to form. For the time they stayed on my arm, they were a reminder to me of how my pride and impatience can hurt me-in a real way. The bruises are now gone, but the reminder stays.

Even with such a visual reminder, I find myself fighting pride. There is a little part of me that wants to prove that I can do it on my own. There is the part that wonders what people think of me. I think I also question whether people are really willing to help. (I know, it's a bit neurotic since I enjoy helping other people and feel honored when they ask for my help.) Looking ahead at this year, I sense that God is calling me to set aside my pride-without his having to pry it from me. I am not thrilled about doing that at all, but am doing my best to trust that his ways are best.