
Pride. I tried to tell her it's when you think you're better than God. Reflexively, she grinned, big. She laughed, a rolling giggle, a trickle of mirth like pebbles in a stream. She actually bent over. "That's funny that you thought you were better than God!"

Laughter, the gift of dignity. Confident, humble hilarity.

C.S. Lewis said that humility is the path to pleasure. For a moment now, I can see. I always thought that the humble were very, very good. I wonder if it is actually the distinct scent of pleasure that has masqueraded all this time as goodness. Perhaps my deepest longing is to be humble - fully, completely, myself.

The antidote? "Sometimes at night when I am feeling prideful I just think about the Bible," she said.

And then, "God, please make my heart clean in a secret way. Just surprise me with something good."