The Defeat of Pride

Standard

The Defeat of Pride

The sin of pride runs deep and strong.
It lurks behind most of what say and do.
I am blind, deaf and dumb to its grip.

As a child, it was an unwillingness to
Expose the truth of pain inflicted upon me.
“You can’t make me cry” was my silent scream.

As a youth, it was an outward compliance
But an internal nullification and determination
To do what I wanted despite what I was told.

As a young woman, it became scheming
And manipulation in a frantic endeavor
To exert control and meet my own needs.

As a servant, it was far more subtle
But nonetheless deadly, as it vied for position,
Honor, privilege, and a sense of value and worth.

Pride has mutated and transfigured itself
Throughout my entire life in a frenzied attempt
To counterfeit that which was never provided.

Pride has two very close and intimate friends
That have also accompanied me in the journey
And are equally as powerful – guilt and shame.

It’s all about defense, pretense, and props,
In a desperate attempt to conceal deep wounds
And an even emptier, broken and bound heart.

Pride, you have not been a friend to me.
You have been a vicious, ravenous,
All-consuming foe, bent on my destruction.

You promised what you were powerless to afford.
You took, and took, and took some more
Until, at last, there was nothing that remained.

Such a strong enemy, so deeply entrenched,
Fierce and threatening should be utterly impossible
To defeat, and, yet, a bended knee is your destruction.

~ Laurie Pontious-Andrews

Advertisements

About unabashedhope

The name Unabashed Hope comes from my favorite poem by Emily Dickinson. Unabashed means not embarrassed, disconcerted or ashamed. I believe Emily's poem, Hope is the Thing with Feathers, says it best: Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s