Pride vs. Prayer

Sometimes God really opens the curtains (lifts the fog, turns on the light, blows my nose, whatever) and lets me see what He's been trying to get me to understand for some time. I was talking to Nicole about something Sunday morning and got upset. The goal of our time together at that point was so that we could pray together about our family. But as I sat there, I couldn't pray. It didn't feel right. I didn't feel honest about praying at that point. Later last night, God showed me why.

When I go out and play in the mud, I get mud all over my shoes and my jeans and maybe even my shirt. Imagine me walking into God's house to have a conversation with Him with all of that mud everywhere. I would feel like I was dirty-ing up God's house by bringing the mess from my life to God. That's sort of what I felt like. As a guy who is certainly sinful, I wanted the opportunity to try to clean up somewhat before coming to Christ. I wanted to show Him that I knew that I was muddy and sinful and that I wanted to attempt to clean myself as a way of showing God that I knew about how I'd messed up.

I think I was letting pride prevent me from communicating with my God, who I'm quite sure would welcome me with open arms, angry or not, muddy or pristine. God knows where I've failed Him and wants me to turn to Him daily. I'm still learning what it means to follow Christ. I suppose that's another post. I'm going to try to remember that God doesn't mind if I track in mud, as long as I'm headed in to see Him!