church, don’t judge.

This post is not a reflection of my current, personal state of being. I’m not currently depressed or despairing. The words below reflect instances of judgment I’ve placed on others, I’ve seen placed on others, or I’ve felt placed on myself at various times in my life.

Also, this is just a blog post. It isn’t a full-out theological dissertation about judgment or judging others. Yes, I believe there is a place for accountability in the church. And yes, I do think we as believers are given insight to rightly “judge” based upon the fruit in someone’s life.

However, Jesus commands, “Judge not…” Too often we proudly whisper conclusions about someone based upon some “speck” in their eye when a fat, splintery log hangs out of our own. May we be slow — ever so slow — in our judgements.

 

 

Church, don’t judge.

My kid isn’t wearing shoes in the store.
And my daughter didn’t brush her hair.
My son thought it was OK to pee in all bushes.
And no he can’t find a matching pair
of gloves or socks or boots or crocs
But at least he has on underwear.
I think.
But, don’t judge.

Crumbs and books and dried-up fries
cover the floor of my beat-up van.
My blinds have dust; the shower has rust.
And the laundry won’t come to an end.
My house isn’t Pinable.
Dinner’s (sometimes) inedible.
And the amount of dog hair: unbelievable.
But, don’t judge.

My shirt has a stain.
My kid’s pants are too short.
My clothes are all faded.
And when life’s crazy-funny, I snort.
Loud.
I have pink or green or purple hair,
And my skin’s all covered with ink.
And sometimes I drink…alcohol. gasp.
But, don’t judge.

My words may have a bit of an edge
My face, a bit of a cringe.
But I hear the whispers
And see the fingers
Pointing,
And deciding
My stance.

But, don’t judge.

Why?
Because you don’t see the minutes, hours, or days before.
That my life’s falling apart — a shattered mess on the floor.
Or that my child has a disease,
Or that my baby’s crying won’t ease…ever.

And I’m tired.

You don’t know that I’m wrestling against depression,
Or I can’t stand my own reflection.
Or that I can’t. get. pregnant. For years.

So don’t judge.

You don’t know that I’m late because
I counseled a friend
on the edge of despair because she craves an end.

Or that I lingered under a blanket to read a book with my boy
because he’s fighting against fears
that aim to destroy his joy.

Or that I sat and wiped tears from my daughter’s brown eyes,
not rushing against the clock
but speaking truths into lies
that try to make her cry.

Church, don’t judge.
because you can’t see the crevices of my heart and my soul,
or the pull on my day
or the fear that plagues
or the doubts that invade.

So don’t judge.

Just pray.
Pray for perspective for me.
Speak words of life to me.
Pour grace and love over me.

That I might see… HIM.

I might be unconventional
Or sometimes irresponsible
Or slightly untraditional
But what I need is something tangible
That reflects your God’s immeasurable love.

Don’t judge.

Instead, reach out to me.
Get to know me.
Aim to see me
Like He sees me:
A woman on a journey
Who’s longing
And searching,
Hungering
And thirsting
For Him.

It’s grace that draws me in.
The scandal
of the gospel.

So don’t judge.

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
Matthew 7:1-5