The Emperor's Ugly New Clothes

Several mornings ago, I was reading contentedly along, minding my own business when I came across this quote by C.S. Lewis:

"There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine they are guilty of themselves...it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind."

My first thought was (and usually is when I read him): 'Wow! C.S. Lewis was SO SMART!'
My second thought: 'Wait a minute.'
I reread the quote, absorbing slowly, got to the period at the end of the sentence and heard a faint, but very distinct, ding!
I think...no....yes...I'm pretty sure...wait...yes...I did.

I just got my bell rung.

Or a God-thump on my head.

Coming from a long line of rowdy, crowd-loving, Irish-Indian, opinionated class-clown soap-boxers...I understand the assigned role of Pride in my life:
Sometimes I might stumble over an apology to my husband when I am very clearly (and neon-signed) WRONG.
I might be embarrassed if the delivery of a joke falls flatter than my hair on a rainy day.
So maybe once or twice (or A LOT) I would rather be late to a function (even church) than not be Scrutiny-Ready.


But C.S. Lewis said that Pride leads to every other vice, didn't he?
A mental smirking of C.S. Lewis. He usually gets it right. Maybe he just missed this one.
I thought I would hold Pride up against just a few of the regular goings-on of my week...testing the Pride root of sin:

A slight stinging when a facebook status update falls flat. No one gets ME.
Pride? Check
I thought so-and-so seemed a little distant when I saw her. Did I do something? Is she mad at ME?
Pride? Check
I can't go into assembly this morning when my kids asked me to. I don't have time to get ready and I refuse to go in looking like I actually do most of the time.
Pride? Check
My husband didn't return my cheerleader-enthusiasm when I excitedly told him about a project I am working on.
Pride? Check
I didn't invite a friend over this week when I thought about it because my house actually looked like five people live and love in it.
Pride? Check
OH-KAY. That's enough of that. That's almost too ugly to type.
What's the common denominator?
Pride.
Oh. And ME.
God will not fight for the throne in our lives. When we sit proudly on that seat reserved for Him, we wear an ugly crown while He stands behind us, hand on our shoulder...waiting for us to move over.
But sometimes He will thump us out of our stupor, thank heavens.
Back to the crown thing...pride is UG-LY. Naturally repulsive to those who witness it. If Pride were an actual, ugly, un-fashionable, What Not To Wear visible accessory...we might be more deliberately aware of when we take it on. Is it like the Emperor's New Clothes, then, where everyone else can see it but I refuse to acknowledge This Ugly Thing?
Ouch.
Too. Ugly. To. Type.
Too ugly to post too, perhaps? Yes. I better not.
Someone may see the messy-loud-impulsive-people-pleasing-occasionally-irresponsible-(insert your own adjective)-ME. Plus, what if someone thinks I'M a terrible writer? It would be awful if I-
Wait...I'm doing that Pride-thing, aren't I?

You got me again, C.S. Lewis. You got me again.

When pride comes, then comes disgrace,
but with humility comes wisdom.
Proverbs 11:2

Can't Buy Me Love

I went to an outdoor marketplace with a friend this weekend. It doesn't boast on the billboards that it's The World's Largest Outdoor Market, but that's what my body was telling me the next morning. I had made a list of items I was looking for so that I could stay on track. I have the attention span of a bumblebee in a rose garden when confronted with a multitude of choices. As I casually walked into a tent that may or may not have my targeted items but had interesting things beckoning me for a look, something caught my eye. Something that was not on my list and I was not looking for it but the second I saw it I knew my son would love it. I wasn't thinking of buying for him and I certainly did not come with the intention of purchasing a a larger-than-life wooden cut-out of a Longhorn. As I inspected it front to back and ran my fingers across it, imagining it in his room above his bed, my heart leapt a little at his reaction. I half-smiled there under that tent because I knew I had found a perfect gift for him. He would find joy in me dragging this awkward, greatly-offensive Longhorn back to College Station despite the effort and consternation of the group I was with. And I didn't care. It pleased me no end to bring my son joy. It truly did.
Know what made this a good gift?
I know what he takes pleasure in.
I know his desires.
I know what he finds fun.
I know he has always wanted this thing.
My loving him unconditionally.
My taking pleasure in his pleasure. Just because.
Bringing the 'horns home, I got the reaction I suspected I might. And I loved it. It was nothing for me to do that for him.
I've said before I never learn so much about how God must love us as I do from my own children.
God presented me with an opportunity of the above example for me to digest and compare to a situation between Him and me:
My husband and I have several long-term prayer requests and goals for our family. Last week, out of the blue and only God's perfect timing, we received a blessing and an answer. Not a blessing that deserves a nod and a smiled 'Thank You, Lord.' A blessing that brought us to our knees in our humility and gratitude at being granted an answer that we desired and in such a big God way.
I love it when His hands are all over something...
I caught myself a couple of times mentally trying to 'walk straighter', to think holy thoughts (poking fun)...trying to deserve what we had been given. Trying to earn His favor He had already given freely (by the way, the definition of grace is unmerited favor...don't you love that?!). It was a familiar feeling but I loved that I had an opportunity to learn in the marketplace this weekend something God wanted me to know:
There is nothing I can do to earn gifts from my Father. He gives as He pleases. And His gifts are good. Because...

He knows what I take pleasure in.
He knows my desires.
He knows what I find fun.
He knows I have always wanted this thing.
His loving me unconditionally.
His taking pleasure in my pleasure. Just because.

But my Father? He knows what I need.
And, boy, is He generous.
And my feeble, human-comparison can't...compare with the love of my Father so he presents it in terms I can try and understand...
another gift.

Know what else gave me joy in giving my son that gift?

This kid of mine has a grateful heart I have not witnessed before.

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!
Matthew 7:11

Thank You, Lord.
Thank You.