How to combat pride
“I’m fine.” “I’ve got this.” “It’s my problem—not yours.”
We all want to be known, but sometimes it feels easier to hide behind masks of self-sufficiency. We might tell ourselves that we don’t want to burden others with our problems, but what we’re really saying is that we believe we can (and should) handle everything alone. This may feel self-protective, but it’s a form of pride that isolates and weakens us.
Pride is simply having a view of ourselves and our abilities that doesn’t align with reality. It’s one of the most effective methods the devil uses to isolate us because it makes us believe we’re better off alone.
So how do we combat it? The apostle Peter advises us to “clothe” ourselves in humility (1 Peter 5:5). We do this by caring for others, watching over others, and accepting the authority and wisdom that others offer us (1 Peter 5:1-4). This requires mutual vulnerability, trust, and authenticity.
Treating others with humility teaches us how to respond to Jesus.
Jesus knows what we need, and God wants us to cast our anxieties onto Him—but giving Him our concerns, hurts, hardships, and heartbreaks is an act of vulnerable surrender. We cannot do this unless we first acknowledge our need for Him.
When Peter says to “cast our cares” on God, he’s telling his readers to come openly and honestly to God so that at the proper time, He can deliver them. God opposes anyone who thinks they don’t need Him, but He shows endless grace and love to those who seek Him (1 Peter 5:5).
So take a few moments right now, and reflect on your current concerns. What do you need to bring to God? Visualize handing Him all of your worries, and envision receiving His peace in return.
What’s the Point?
There once lived a king whose experience exploring and grappling with life’s perplexities was recorded in the book of Ecclesiastes.
What’s interesting is that this king—likely King Solomon—reigned in Israel during some of the best years in its history. From the world’s standards, he had more power, prestige, and wealth than any other person before him. Yet, still, he summarized his luxuries with one depressing word: Meaningless!
“Everything is meaningless!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) “Everything is wearisome beyond description.” (Ecclesiastes 1:8) “Nothing under the sun is truly new.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9) “I observed everything going on under the sun, and really, it is all meaningless—like chasing the wind.” (Ecclesiastes 1:14)
Though written thousands of years ago, this bleak analysis still resonates with our own restless yearning for more. We want more than meaningless stuff. We want more than surface-level connections and ambitions. We want more than a seemingly...