By Melody Moore
Have you ever had your pride operated on? Just thinking about that question may bring memories of times when you had to eat crow or deal with the consequences of pride. We all have. If we haven’t dealt with the consequences of our pride, that means that we’re still in denial. If we ask God to expose our pride, he will. “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts” (Psalm 139:23 NIV).
When I was 16, I was in a car accident. My face flew toward the steering wheel hitting my hand that God had placed perfectly in the way. The hard plastic and metal steering wheel of a 1972 Duster would have devastated my teeth and jaw. My hand was a much softer blow. The oral surgeon who took care of the damage told me his work would last about 30 years then I would lose the bottom row of teeth and need bone replacement. It lasted 36 years. No complaints. It’s amazing how dentistry has advanced since then.
When it was time for the teeth removal and bone graft surgery, everything went great. Well, except for one thing. The partial that was supposed to be placed in for my bottom teeth during the bone graft surgery didn’t fit right. It didn’t fit at all. Now, I don’t understand how all of that is supposed to work. I only know that when I woke up, they handed me my partial, told me how well everything went and that I’d need to see my dentist about the partial that didn’t fit. Got it. No big deal.
My dentist squeezed me the following Monday morning. He told me how great the surgical area looked. Then he told me we’d have to wait a couple weeks for the swelling to go down before we could work on getting the partial in that held my front teeth.
I’ve never been what I would consider vain. Sometimes I wear lipstick. The only time I’ve worn more make-up than that in the last 10 years was for my wedding and my daughter’s wedding. I don’t spend real time on my hair. It’s clean. It’s brushed. It’s up in a bun. Half the time I don’t even look in a mirror after I slap it up in a bun. I’m just not all caught up in appearance. But no bottom front teeth? I was going back to school when I left his office. My students? My co-workers? That one coworker who talks about people and makes fun of them . . .
I drove to school, slowly and praying. Obviously, I had pride I hadn’t realized I’d have. Then I prayed again. Time to go in. Inside, my coworkers and students knew why I’d been out the previous two school days. So, the questions came. All well-meaning. Then I opened my mouth to answer. All has gone mostly well. Most people were just concerned about any pain I might be in.
When the students were all working independently and I sat down at my desk, I grabbed a post-it and wrote “pride surgery” on it to remind myself to get a Bible study or two regarding pride on my YouVersion app. The two lines were meant to be independent, one to remind me what to look up and the other why. The older I get, the more reminders I seem to need.
“Pride surgery.” That’s all the note said. My eyes read it as one statement. That was enough. Apparently I needed more than teeth and bone removed and replaced. But the pride had to be replaced with God and His Word.
“God resists the proud in order to show them their need of him” (Isaiah 23:9bNIV). Everything he does, he does with good reason. It can be difficult to nearly impossible to see through our pride, especially if we can’t see our pride. I know I need him. And if there’s a place where I can’t see that, where I’m lacking, I want to know. And if pride is going to get between us for any reason, for any amount of time, I want it gone, extricated, removed. I want pride surgery, a pridectomy.
“But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble””(James 4:6 NIV). I want His favor. I want everything that is Him.
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