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Pride.  It raises its ugly head at the most inopportune times and catches me unawares...

January 1st is a day in which many feel that they have been given a fresh start, a clean slate, a new beginning.  Last Wednesday, my new beginning ended in a less than stellar fashion.  I had met and prayed with someone that morning, cheered on the LSU Tigers to victory, "happened" to run into a church friend who was encouraged by a brief visit, and got a few things checked off my list that afternoon.  A red-letter day was in the works and I was feeling good about the way the new year was starting.

And then, I went to church.  Normally, an occasion for fellowship, learning, sharing, and serving, my pride prevented much of that from happening.  I got into an argument with someone during class about something that does not matter.  It was so trivial that I will not enter into the discussion here, for it would only lend more merit to the topic than it deserves.

After the Holy Spirit prick of my conscience when I realized my large-headed pride had taken over my tongue, I withdrew my publicly verbal assertion, but had trouble dropping it in my own head the rest of the night.  I would still, if asked, conclude that I was right, but being "right" was not what it was about, for my attitude screamed louder and more offensively than any truth at the moment.

I thank God for helping me recognize the prideful pattern I fell into that night.  My greater thanks is that His mercies are new every morning and not just at the start of a new year (Lamentations 3:22-23).

Today's story-time will be a very short story about something that happened last night, but that brought me a great reflection about myself and I'm sure you will be able to relate to as well.

Last night, my nephew did not want to go to bed.  He fought it with all his might and made himself so upset, he threw up.  He was over-tired and needed to go to bed, but was resistant.  My brother-in-law eventually took him for a car ride to fill up with gas and since riding in the car always seems to calm him, he finally fell asleep.

I began to ponder the reasons why my nephew was resisting sleep when he needed it so badly.  But I know that I have no room to talk.  First of all, I was the same way as a child, avoiding sleep.  There was usually a reason, but as I got older, it was more about not missing out than surrendering to my need for sleep.

Unfortunately, my resistance to surrender to my Heavenly Father and let Him lead me to what I need continues to this day.  Why is it that we resist what we need?  My prayer is that I will trust that God knows what I need and that I will surrender to Him, allowing Him to meet my needs and trusting that what He provides is enough.