Sometimes adults think they’re too smart. We become too proud. We think we’ve outgrown our need for God. We call Him a crutch for weaklings and only suitable for intellectually deficient people who can’t figure out life on their own. We say the spiritual equivalent of “Me do it!” as if we’re 2 years old all over again, throwing a tantrum.
Isn’t it ironic, that God ordains praise from the lips of babies and that’s how He chooses to silence the proud?
