An angel once walked in the presence of God
His beauty and splendour with pride became marred
And a heart, made for praise, turned unyieldingly hard.
“How beautiful am I!” his prideful cry
Believing to be like the only Most High
From heaven was cast, told a treacherous lie.
Adam and Eve were the first ones deceived
For they would know all, or so they believed
And paradise was lost as sin was conceived.
“Surely we won’t die!” their prideful cry
As to good and evil, rebellion opened their eye
Condemning each child born of this world to die.
The people of Babel built a tower so tall
In sight of the gods, they would rule over all
But confusion of tongues caused construction to stall.
“Our fame reaches high!” their prideful cry
Then awoke to the babble of voices in the sky
And scattered, unknown, through lands far and nigh.
To Pharaoh, Moses came saying: “Let my people go.”
But the hard-hearted king would change his ‘yes’ to ‘no’
Till God struck his nation with plagues of pain and woe.
“None greater than I!” his prideful cry
And at every given chance would continue to defy
Till he held his firstborn son, with an anguished “why?”
Babylon’s king threw a banquet so grand
Called for temple goblets from the distant Hebrew land
‘Judgement!’ on the wall, wrote a mysterious hand.
“Over nations rule I!” his prideful cry
Turned against God, worshiped idols lifted high
That very same night was attacked and left to die.
The Pharisees were holier, or so they thought
They refused to accept the words Jesus taught
For forty silver pieces their Messiah’s life they bought.
“Oh how righteous, I!” their prideful cry
God’s people with cumbersome rules they did tie
Whitewashed tombs, their hearts - so dead and dry.
Peter thought he was strong when in fact he was weak
Relied on himself when Christ’s strength he should seek
He knew not then the blessings of the humble and meek.
“Leave you - not I,” his prideful cry
But before the rooster’s crow, three times would deny
“I know him not,” was his haunting lie.
Fishermen and kings, not one is exempt
From this sin of self and pride the fallen angel dreamt
And in each of our lives his lies do still tempt:
“Hmph, be your own god!” its prideful cry
“Who needs Jesus, surely not I?”
“Go your own way, the bible is a lie.”
But God’s command to me is to love and obey
Deny myself and follow only Jesus, the Way
Through the word and prayer, in His love to stay.
“To self I die,” should be my humble cry
Then I’ll see His face as He lifts me up on high
“My Lord and my King!” in reverent praise I’ll sigh.
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