Pride Deflation: How I Learned to Fall Up

Dec 05, 2024By Mark O'Reilly
Mark O'Reilly

Dear Reader,

In morning watch this morning, a piercing insight caught my attention—the essence of grace and humility. I've long believed that life is about proving oneself, demonstrating worth through qualifications, skills, and achievements. In every arena—school, work, personal relationships—I imagined success meant measuring up to some external standard.

But something fundamental shifted in my understanding today. Spiritual grace doesn't operate like a job application or a performance review. It's not about having the right credentials or impressing some cosmic scorekeeper. In fact, it's radically different.

The most shocking revelation? My sins aren't what block me from experiencing grace. My pride is.

I've been exhausting myself trying to appear put-together, to seem capable and in control, completely missing the point. God's grace isn't something I can earn or manufacture. It's a gift that descends to the lowest places—to those humble enough to admit their brokenness.

I'm learning there's a strange beauty in acknowledging weakness. When I stop climbing and instead kneel, something miraculous happens. My failures don't disqualify me; they create space for mercy. My imperfections aren't obstacles; they're invitations.

Grace is like a gentle stream that only flows downhill. The more I try to pump it up, to force it, the further it moves away. But when I lower myself, when I'm brutally honest about who I really am—all my fears, my mistakes, my deep inadequacies—that's when grace finds me.

This feels revolutionary. All my life, I've been taught that I need to be better, do more, achieve more. But what if the real spiritual breakthrough is in becoming less? In admitting that I'm fundamentally broken and in need?

Today, I choose vulnerability over perfection. I choose honesty over performance. I choose to stand on the lowest ground, knowing that it's exactly where grace finds me.

What a profound, humbling, and ultimately liberating realization.

Until tomorrow

Chaplain Mark