I think we can all spot with ease the person who must always have the spotlight or who constantly talks of themselves in conversations. Not having these particular flaws (I don't think!) I could mistakenly conclude that pride is not a big problem for me.
Or perhaps we've learned to spot a sneakier form of pride. This is the pride that exhibits itself as humility, or maybe false humility. Saying, "Oh, I'm not good at this!" when you really are pretty good at it. Or telling us you don't deserve any credit for some act of service. Repeatedly. The object is to be noticed while saying one doesn't deserve or desire notice.
I have discovered in myself another form of pride. Let's call it Crosswalk Pride. I have discovered that I don't really like rules very much. I have cultivated the appearance of being compliant over the years, I think. I'm a good boy and I don't get into much trouble. But recently a string of events has revealed that my depraved heart rebels against the rules. I'm talking about perfectly good rules for safety or for accomplishing things personally.
The crosswalk is a good example. Frankly, I don't want to wait for the light to change to cross the street. And, as I think about it, it's not about impatience, though, that wouldn't really be a justification. What I like to do is go to the corner and then walk along the street until I spy an opening and then dash across. I'm in control that way. I don't have to stop. Again, I'm not in a hurry - I just don't want to be told I can't go now. You're not the boss of me!
What I'm learning is that waiting for, ye even submitting to, the light is good for my soul. I need rules, boundaries, fences for my protection. Protection from speeding cars and from my own depraved and proud heart. Left to myself, I wouldn't set the borders because, as the pretender to the throne of my world, I want to do as I please.
Waiting for the light at the crosswalk is one way I can practice submission and thereby chasten my rebel's heart.