The Water Bottle that Broke the Camel's Pride

by Hannah Hanzel

It was early Monday morning two years ago when I was sitting at the table eating breakfast and reading the Bible. I was exhausted from last weekend’s camping trip, and my back had been tight since our epic hike. I needed to get ready for work, so I gave a nice big stretch before getting up. I heard a loud pop between my shoulders, and searing pain coursed through my back muscles.

I gasped for air and couldn’t stand up or walk. I had two options: get to the phone in my bedroom or the one in my roommate’s bedroom. Both options involved a long army-crawl journey, so I slumped out of my chair and began the close-up, progressive observation of our dirty floors.

As I crawled, I thought about last weekend’s hike. I had tagged along with a group of 20 young adults on a camping trip to Arkansas. That morning, we had to make sure we all had enough water to last the entire hike. Instinctively, I loaded my backpack with about 20 bottles of water, dramatically willing to bear the load for the whole group. Friends offered to take some of the bottles to their own packs, and others offered to switch packs so I didn’t have to bear it the whole hike. I refused.

Whatever the purpose was behind my foolish decision to shoulder the weight, it seemed nothing less than idiotic as I crawled on my belly to my housemate’s bedroom. The heftiness of my pride and of the water bottles had finally taken a toll, while my back and my ego paid the price, not to mention the emergency room bill.

Pride has a funny way of making too little of others and too much of ourselves. I often look at my life’s troubles and loved one’s troubles and think to myself, “I don’t want to burden them,” or “I can do this on my own.” The truth is when I let other people see my troubles, I am also inviting them to see me at my worst. That scares me.

At my worst, I’m suspicious of others, purposefully hurtful toward loved ones, utterly self-centered, embarrassingly short-tempered and spontaneously foolish. My words are venom-tipped, and my actions are ignorant of others. I’m afraid to love others and to let others love me. Who would stick around for that version of me?

Did you know God loves you? He sees that side of us and still loves us! The worst version of us is not too much for Him, though the best version of us could never be enough for Him. The beauty in that truth is how God’s love is not dependent on who we are—for better or for worse. God’s love toward us is dependent on Him.

Questions for reflection:
1)    How am I letting pride keep me from living a shared life?
2)    In what ways am I shutting people out of my life?
3)    Do I believe God’s love is truly unconditional?
4)    How will I show God’s love to others today?

Author Bio
Hammocks, hot tubs, Spotify, close friends, campfires, poetic journal entries, and well selected fonts are all contributions to Hannah Hanzel’s ideal day. She can be found pining over these in her lamp-lit office at Council Road Baptist Church, serving as the Creative Director. She enjoys conversations that include dad jokes, travel plans, theology, art, and struggles with faith. Feel free to reach out:
hannahhanzel@yahoo.com.

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