Pride results in pain and loss. It always has and it always will.
I learned this at a young age. The first time that I can remember being taken down by my own pride was when I was eight. I was playing football with my cousins when an errant kick by my, (you have no athletic present or future but we have to let you play because mom said so) cousin , went into the neighbors yard. Now grandma and grandpa always warned us to simply knock on the neighbors door and their kind neighbor would get the ball for us. Not only would we get our ball, but we remain a safe distance from their over zealous Saint Bernard named Mauler, (not the dogs real name but it makes for a better story and I don't remember the name of the dog). Mauler typically looked at us through the fence as if we were a future dinner or snack.
Enlisting the neighbors help seemed like a logical thing to do that required virtually no effort and only minimal embarrassment. However, logic is no match for pride. I had a plan.
I was fast. I would tell you how fast, but I do not want to come across as prideful. Let's just say many referred to me as "bullet". Anyway, my plan was for my cousins to beat on the fence with sticks and distract the dog while I climbed over the other side of the fence into Mauler's yard, rescue our dear Nerf, and escape without incident or mauling.
Logic: Robbie you are an stupid eight year old. Go knock on the neighbors door so that you do not get mauled by the dog.
Pride: Robbie you are fast. You can do this and you will remain the coolest cousin!
Logic: Robbie, you really...
Me: Logic... be quiet, I'm listening to Pride!
My cousins began beating on the fence which made the dog go ballistic and begin to foam at the mouth. No problem so I thought. I jumped the fence, ran to get the ball, picked it up and then I looked up. Across the yard my eyes locked with Mauler and the race was on. (Think Sandlot).
Logic: (in a prideful voice) You are an idiot!
I ran. My bladder ran. Mauler and I made it to the fence at exactly the same time and as I jumped over the fence I felt sudden pain in my hip not unlike a penicillin shot. My knee caught the top of the fence and I tumbled into grandma and grandpa's yard with Nerf in hand. Being the brave eight year old that I was, I started crying and rolling around on the ground while trying to determine the damage.
It turns out that I had a couple of nice puncture wounds in my hip, but I don't remember ever going to the doctor, so rabies were apparently no concern. I'm sure that my parents thought that me getting rabies would have been proper punishment.
Pride at it's core says "I don't need Jesus I need ME. I don't trust God, I trust ME. I don't live for God, I live for me."
Pride is killed in us through dog bites humility. Psalm 131 gives us a lifestyle to adopt. An old him gives us the place to go:
WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS
ON WHICH THE PRINCE OF GLORY DIED;
MY RICHEST GAIN I COUNT BUT LOSS,
AND POUR CONTEMPT ON ALL MY PRIDE.
Great story with a great lesson. Oh to have had a camera on you recording that incident!!! Robbie "The Bullet" gets bit, the headline would read. Love ya, buddy!
Posted by: Chris | December 05, 2007 at 04:54 AM
Oh, so you are the kind of kid that has made my dogs go nutso at the fence when all the kids get out of school and walk by and beat the fence, and throw rocks and...and...
yep, nice role model, Rob! :^) aka, Pastor Bullet!
Posted by: Donna | December 05, 2007 at 09:49 AM
What a great post!
Instead of "Bullet" may I suggest a new nick name at the ripe age of 43 . . .
crap, I can't think of anything clever . . .
never mind.
Posted by: Scott | December 05, 2007 at 11:50 AM