Dear Pride – Spoken Word

Dear Pride,

Not sure how to say this. We can’t be friends anymore, you see

I’m hanging out with Jesus, a better friend than you’ll ever be

Pride, you promised me a norm of free, warm notoriety,

But you forked out in the form of cold, godforsaken piety

Torn between how people agree to conform and who I know I should be

I heeded your consultation, but you were a mistaken guide to me

You guaranteed me dignity—an end to the ratty self-hatred,

But I couldn’t see at the time how badly I’d been bated

You’re overrated, like a cult classic that’s famous for being hated

You faked when stating my pain would cease when I was “greater”

You promised me a high platform of self-promoting fame

But it was a cold, strange, deranged kind of thing

Leaving me estranged, addicted to the high of my own name

It was just a lame game to you; for me a cycle of pain

You said, “Just keep climbing those ladder rungs till you’re done”

But there’s no top. There’s a sudden stop and a drop. I’m undone.

I fell below where I’d begun, hating what I’d become

I can see there’s no end to striving—nothing new under the sun

I remember those late nights when you shared whispers in my ears

Saying by your measure I deserved better and “does God really care?”

You said He owed me love and grace—like I’d earned my share

You said I could demand a blessing if I dared cause great “faith” is what I beared

Then you drug me to the end of the road and you left me there

I thought you a friend who cared, but you betrayed me like a thug

I was kept in a pit of despair, pushed down the stairs, swept under the rug

You walked me down the path of shame where you said I’d never trudge

You pledged I could live off the respect on other’s faces

I neglected deep places in my heart that lie would effect

By the time I could detect your true nature, I’d been wrecked

I checked my heart and found a part of myself I couldn’t face

When I elected to have your lies injected, my purity was infected

My actions were affected. I’ve made mistakes I’ve since regretted

I was supposed to be this role model, an example of right

I forgot I’m indebted to the perfect example, Jesus Christ

He surrendered what He deserved, had no ambition to be served

Unswerving in His intentions, He wasn’t yearning for mention

His value and pension were found in the Giver not the gift

He craved His Father’s affection—”well done” from Dad and that was it

People forecasted God’s might, not His love and compassion

They fashioned reactions patterning deer in the headlights

Some ran in fright, others peered helplessly into the overwhelming light

Of this humble carpenter by day, holy Son of God by night

One sinner in particular expressed what Her Lord meant to her

She bottled her life’s savings—poured them out on the floor

She weeped regretful yet hopeful tears on His bare feet

People looked; she ignored them. With her hair on His feet she adored Him

The Bible says a woman’s hair is given her as a covering

Now I’m not discussing theological assumptions of that phrase

Instead I’m amazed at what her actions that day say

The condemning eye was hovering. She didn’t care. She laid herself bare

Kneeling to the ground with no feelings to hide, she laid down her pride

Fully confided, she lost face at His feet so she could be found

Then Jesus reached down. He astounded as He abounded in grace

He said “go in peace,” and that she was saved because of her faith

Where the gospel is preached, what this woman has done will be spoken

An honor to reach beyond her wildest dreams—not just a token

Broken, she uncovered her shame, but Jesus covered her pain

It’s been said before. I’ll say it again: Love covers many sins

Dear pride, you want me to hide my sins, but God says He’ll cover them

You advise me to run again, Jesus says begin to abide in Him

Dear pride, you can’t provide the grace Jesus dispensed when He died

Favor’s not meant for they who have “never sinned,” but those forgiven

Next time you pick to try your steady tricks on me, be ready

I’ll remember the lowly, heavy tears of a humble, forgiven lady

I can stick it if the only impression they possess when espying me

Is that he was a nobody crying in confession at Jesus’ feet

I’d rather die a nobody at the feet of my Savior and King

Than live as somebody who keeps company with such a thing, Pride

Cause even at my lowest point and my worst day I find

Jesus takes me by the hand and pulls me up to His side

When I stopped trying to lift myself where I should be

I fell into God’s loving hands and He lifted me