Vanity! With the constant crave of applause [around], O LORD, amongst the watching world, would you make me humble enough to the point of abandonment when man's attention seems to be the feast.
I desire nothing else but to make your name and course known to the ends of the earth. Help me, O LORD, to be a mercy of use to Your Church.
Keep my countenance from that enticer called pride. You have given me this gift, i.e., to write. And it is only that, "given." And if given, lo, may I be a faithful steward till my grave-day. I have nothing that I possess but what is come from your hand.
You, O LORD, know of my weaknesses. And I'd implore you because Thou art my Father, MY FATHER! MY FATHER! Yes, MY FATHER! Help me to hate sin and to love those things which only please you.
It is the cry of this present struggling pilgrim. Amen!
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride.
– Isaac Watts.
Broken For Christ 