As I passed by her walking down the street, head held high, designer coat warming her, I caught a whiff of her scent, fruity shampoo mixed with expensive perfume. I felt the disdain in her look, and I hung my head lower. The sound of her Jimmy Choo's clicking on the pavement brought back a flood of nostalgia. It wasn't too long ago I was like her: well kept, beautiful, successful. Then tragedy struck, and I lost the will to live. It wasn't too long before I had slid down the slippery slope of despair and landed face first in the muck of homelessness. Now that I was there all covered in mud and stuck knee deep in the slime, I wasn't sure how to get myself out. I was nearly positive if I could ever extract myself from the pit I was in, I would NEVER get all the filth and stench of my transgressions cleaned off of me.
Something made me stop in my tracks. I turned to look at her disheveled silhouette. She had stopped walking now, and she seemed transfixed, lost in thought. Fear screamed at me, "She's drunk or high! It would be dangerous to approach her." But a quiet voice whispered, "She's seen things you'll never, ever know. She's remembering those things now." I approached her quietly and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look at me, I softly said, "I am sorry I let your suffering offend me. Please is there someway I can help."
I know this blog is quite different from my normal writing. I am not sure if it will be a hit or a flop, but it has been rattling around in my soul lately. This propensity we as humans have to assume we know the whole story after getting just a glimpse of the punchline. I have felt convicted and humbled by the realization that 90% of the time, I only know 10% of the facts and I make a 100% judgement based upon my faulty understanding. How often I fail to give the benefit of the doubt! How often I fail to be Jesus with skin on! No judgement. No condemnation. No lecture. Just love.
There's a song by Sawyer Brown that frequently comes to my mind when I'm mulling over this dark propensity of my heart. The very first verse catches me in the gut each and EVERY time I hear it. It tells the story of a woman riding on the city bus with her children. The children are out of control and someone says, "Do you let them do that everywhere?" The woman responds by asking her fellow bus riders to forgive her children as they were up all night for their daddy "went to Heaven in the middle of the night." I try to remind myself that I NEVER know exactly what another person's shoes feel like, and I most likely do NOT want to walk a mile in them. Yet I am just an imperfect person. I let my frustration get ahead of my brain. I make judgments and raise eyebrows and propose what "I would have done."
Tonight I'm just wondering what this world would be like if I just took myself off the bench, folded up my robe, and packed away my gavel. If I just NO MATTER what refused to even think, "Well I wouldn't have done it that way." or "There's NO way I would find MYSELF in that situation." I know it is a tall and lofty order, but I am going to aspire to it. Starting today, I will not lift my eyebrows in judgment; I will extend my hand in assistance. Right now, I will not roll my eyes and think exasperated thoughts; I will intercede for others whose struggles I don't know the half of. Right now it is I, softly saying, "I am sorry I let your suffering offend me. Please is there someway I can help."
