Burden of Self

Sometimes pride isn't obvious — at least not to the prideful.

My sponsor and I review one step a month, every year — January is Step 1, February Step 2, and so on. Every July is Step 7. The first time I worked the steps, my Seventh Step list put pride, ego, and selfishness right at the top. No surprise, if I'm honest about my Fourth, or what was waiting in my Ninth.

Every pass, I try to dig a little deeper. Some passes have been more of a glance than a real dig, and looking back, I see the opportunities I missed.

This time it started in June, on Step 6, when a line I'd read before finally landed: "We come to the place where we are entirely ready to start this healing process by surrendering the right to hang on to our defects." (SA, pg. 122)

God had my attention. I was trying to start a business and couldn't get a single client to call. I needed a job to bring in income again. My wife and I were looking for a place to rent instead of bouncing between Airbnbs. There was something on my record that meant a conversation I was scared to have.

God started showing me what I was still holding onto. Namely: pride. I thought I was doing alright — keeping it out in front of me, staying aware, so I could respond instead of react. But those things I needed done, I was trying to do on my terms. Instead of taking the world as it is — the way Jesus did, and does — I was trying to control the outcomes so they'd happen my way.

Ya. I think we all know how that usually turns out.

Just my old thinking wearing a new outfit.

I have to take the next step in front of me and leave the outcomes to my Higher Power. He is always for me and my good. It's just scary to accept that — and even scarier to surrender to it — because what if I don't like the outcome? What if it means a warehouse job or a convenience store after a six-figure income? The pain of holding on gets too heavy to bear, and I run out of choice.

But I do have a choice. And I chose to hold onto that defect — control, pride, whatever you want to call it — because it did something for me. It kept me safe when I was scared or afraid.

How do I get rid of this? I ask God to make me willing, and then to take it away — or at least help me recognize it and respond. All I'm required to do is take the next right step and leave the rest to Him. Will I always love the results? Probably not. But does He know what's best for me? Way, way more than I do. He is for us, never against us. Pride and ego still work in subtle ways. Will I always catch it ahead of time? Nope. But I'm getting better, surrendering it as best I can.

I'm in the middle of this right now, and honestly, it hurts like hell. I don't want this hurt, but I know it's ultimately good — because of who is walking next to me through it. Ripping off that pride armor and dealing with what's underneath sucks. But I'm standing in that suck, walking forward, looking only at the next right thing.

This won't always hurt like this. This is just one of those teaching and growing moments — and I look forward to the man I am on the other side.