The sting of criticism,
the old friend of misunderstanding
met with the worse pain of self-realization.
With what is in my control?
None of the things I deem the ‘problem’.
So, what is the problem?
I’m met with the worst pain of self-realization.
Not the modern-day, boasting in self ‘self-realization’.
The kind that the Spirit of the Living God gives me eyes to see.
My greatest criticism was at the cross.
Yet so was the deepest mercy.
Pride.
Is that why it is the worst pain?
Oh that pride would be my worst pain instead!
Like a prickly cactus whose spines prick my skin.
Would my soul be unsteady, pricked, when pride rears itself.
Pride is not invited to the party.
But I have been.
Not by my own merit.
How then do I respond?
A hurt ego and weary soul do not mix well.
Despair is tempting.
But I am brought back to the cross.
I am a servant of God.
I am walking through a hard season.
How will I respond to the fiery arrows flying at me?
I certainly hope by refuging in Christ.
My greatest criticism was at the cross.
Yet so was the deepest mercy.