| Proverbs 16:18 – “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” |
People are curious creatures.
One of the strangest traits we carry is the tendency to think we’re better than we actually are.
Ask someone how good of a driver they are, and even if they’ve recently been in a wreck, you’ll often get the same answer: “Excellent.”
But it gets more dangerous when the stakes are higher.
We tend to believe we’re immune to temptation. That we can flirt with danger. That somehow, our souls are coated in Teflon, and sin will slide right off.
But that’s the problem:
We’re not who we believe ourselves to be.
And there’s no clearer example than a young officer whose name would later be etched in infamy—George Armstrong Custer.
In 1867, Custer was a brash, overconfident officer sent on a scouting mission across the Kansas plains. He was already developing a reputation, one that would end in disaster just a few years later. But even then, the signs were already there.
Custer kept two greyhounds as companions. On hunts, they would rush ahead and alert him to game. One day, they charged over a hill after some antelope, and Custer—caught up in the thrill—galloped after them, leaving his regiment far behind.
Somewhere in that rush, he forgot why he was out there in the first place.
The mission gave way to the moment.
Then, he spotted a buffalo.
Confident, and a bit too eager, he spurred his horse toward the animal, believing it would be an easy kill. Drawing his pistols, he pulled up beside the massive creature—but he didn’t fire.
Not yet.
Custer wanted to enjoy the chase. He liked the feeling of control, of power, of thrill.
But the buffalo had other plans.
It suddenly wheeled around and gored Custer’s horse. In the chaos, Custer tried to grab the reins but fired his pistol by accident—shooting his own horse in the head.
The animal collapsed, taking Custer down with it. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see the buffalo staring him down.
And then, just as quickly, the beast turned and ambled off—victorious.
But Custer was now alone, unarmed, and miles from his men. His pride had led him into isolation. What followed was a long, dangerous walk back across the prairie.
Yet, that wasn’t the real tragedy.
The tragedy is that he didn’t learn from it.
Less than ten years later, his arrogance would lead him—and his men—into the deadly trap we now call the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
Solomon understood the heart of this danger. He warned:
“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”
—Proverbs 16:18
The truth is sobering:
Our greatest weakness is often our strength.
And our greatest strength?
Knowing our weakness.
So before you rush headlong into something—believing you’re immune, thinking you’ve got it under control—pause.
Take a breath.
Ask: Am I walking by faith… or just running on pride?
Because there’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.
One trusts God.
The other trusts only in itself.
And only one leads us home.
–Robert G. Taylor
robertgtaylor.com
