Of course the topic of judgement came up with our youth group this past week. Teaching the class that Sunday helped me get myself back on track. Satan likes to make you feel worthless as it is, especially when your own standards are set high. Leading by example is more than just a saying, it's a kingdom expectation. No, I cannot gain any favor for any job that I could perform, and I would never satisfy God. But to lie helplessly on the ground like a fish out of a bowl is not the plan God has for our life either.
Researching the lesson brought me to Instagram. I wanted to make it relevant to our kids who use social media. The active kids in our youth are great examples of what to post. They hardly complain, they understand that people read more into a random thought, and they generally seem to care about what they are promoting. The somewhat active teens are a little more liberal. And sometimes that comes with the territory. The active kids have active parents (generally), while those that don't get dropped off with friends or have a grandma bringing them, sometimes raising them. Their friends are a different story. Their usernames espouse attitude, a brutal nonchalance. Under their usernames are typical statuses. The high school they attend, the year of graduation, emojis that signify personality. But then the words get more personal.
Build a bridge and get over it. You only live once so fuck it. Can't beat it join it. Listen bitch if u don't like me i'll find u and kick your ass.
So there's me, a teacher, a father with a 20 year old, a youth leader. Judgement ends up filtering through the lenses of my life. Do you judge a situation as uncaring by their parents? Do I judge the mom who knows it and leaves it? Would I think twice about letting my daughter hang out with a kid with that outlook on life? When my daughter was in junior high we ran into many parenting obstacles. Many were attacked with my foot firmly in my mouth. I had no filter. When she went on a shopping excursion with a few girls and a mom and brings back thong underwear, your emotions sometimes get the best of you. Did I judge a few of those girls and her mom? You betcha. Another fiasco was my mouth on Myspace where I told the world no way my daughter was hanging out with the mature-looking blonde. No way I was sending my daughter into that crowd. Surely I was in the right? Yeah, foot in mouth. Call me Judgementor.
Judgment comes in many forms. Sometimes its the deflections of your own shortcomings. As the men's ministry grows one class at a time, it's hard sometimes to see a man's excuse as a means to judge his entire life. As a Christian we're told to "pray" for them, right? A person asks you for money but they wont take you up on the offer to fill up their gas tank. Judge. The person who is so sarcastic they cannot breathe without uttering a joke. Surely they aren't filled with the same Holy Spirit as me? Judge. You put THAT picture on Facebook? Judge.
Here I am spending so much time helping people pry logs from their eyes, I can't see the planks in my own.
I've always been an observer. I noticed the woman pulling folded food stamps from her purse with the look on her face if the amount would be enough to cover the four jugs of milk. The look of a girl who really didn't want to hug that guy friend of hers, rolling her eyes as he pats her back. That skill eventually became one of the many excuses I had from running from God. I remember sitting in church and witnessing the congregation. I could have pointed out the drug addict, the adulterer, the slut. How could so many contradictions remain under one roof? How can the priest sanction this behavior? All this as I was drowning in my own transgressions.
And when I strive to be God's man, that gift of observation becomes ever so prideful. I catch myself thinking it, confiding to my wife, my share group. It "goes away" and comes back. Like any other sin, to extinguish its affects is to break free form its enjoyment, however fleeting. On the flip side of that, that judgment mixed with love has interesting effects too.
It helps me realize when to post on an Instagram account to a text message instead. Less eyes. It helps me speak into the lives of the youth about their grades or the truth about their relationships (one word: overrated). It gives me patience with my students (and when to back off the pedal when it comes to motivation). It allows me to set standards for my kids without calling out the choices of other families. Pointing fingers never won anyone over to the Kingdom. My stubby ones surely wont either.
Other thoughts this week too. At school, God opened up a door in my life I didn't want opened. Which is the messy truth about letting Him in. He's the master rummager, the best interior designer of the heart that ever walked the earth. He moves furniture that is past its due date out for bulk pick-up. He paints the walls. He escorts people out the back (or maybe we do, cause Jesus would invite all wouldn't he?) and sells your luxury SUV for something more economical. There used to be a show called Trading Spaces where couples would redesign a room for one another. The big reveal was always the show's best moment. The look on a husband or wife's face when they see their new rooms are typical of our pride. Sometimes they cry, sometimes they are shocked. But every once in a while they stand there with that look on their face. The one that screams, "What happened?" Or, "you had all this time and you chose THIS?"
We want the prosperity and the blessings and the prayers fulfilled but in the meantime we are wary of the hurt, the change and the sacrifice. Like the student this week who was transferred into my room. I judged him as the bad kid, his mother even worse. Open a door for me Lord and I'll respond, I've prayed before. In walks in this kid and I'm looking to slam it. The mom sat in with him for 3 days. Totally atypical for a classroom observation. My colleagues whispered to me in the halls, they questioned why, they injected me with visions of revolt. I had to change the subject so many times I felt like I wasn't being sincere.
You see, I wanted that release of frustration. I wanted to pound drinks at happy hour and complain on twitter. I didn't want to be a change agent, but there I was teaching through it, hardly missing a beat. I think the kid will return without mom next week. Maybe he leaves to his online destination, maybe he doesn't. One thing's for certain, to God the time now matters. Each person in our life is a reason to respond to the love given to us. Judgment is easy. Love is hard.
Jesus wants to redesign more than a room. Trading Spaces.
Here I am spending so much time helping people pry logs from their eyes, I can't see the planks in my own.
I've always been an observer. I noticed the woman pulling folded food stamps from her purse with the look on her face if the amount would be enough to cover the four jugs of milk. The look of a girl who really didn't want to hug that guy friend of hers, rolling her eyes as he pats her back. That skill eventually became one of the many excuses I had from running from God. I remember sitting in church and witnessing the congregation. I could have pointed out the drug addict, the adulterer, the slut. How could so many contradictions remain under one roof? How can the priest sanction this behavior? All this as I was drowning in my own transgressions.
And when I strive to be God's man, that gift of observation becomes ever so prideful. I catch myself thinking it, confiding to my wife, my share group. It "goes away" and comes back. Like any other sin, to extinguish its affects is to break free form its enjoyment, however fleeting. On the flip side of that, that judgment mixed with love has interesting effects too.
It helps me realize when to post on an Instagram account to a text message instead. Less eyes. It helps me speak into the lives of the youth about their grades or the truth about their relationships (one word: overrated). It gives me patience with my students (and when to back off the pedal when it comes to motivation). It allows me to set standards for my kids without calling out the choices of other families. Pointing fingers never won anyone over to the Kingdom. My stubby ones surely wont either.
Other thoughts this week too. At school, God opened up a door in my life I didn't want opened. Which is the messy truth about letting Him in. He's the master rummager, the best interior designer of the heart that ever walked the earth. He moves furniture that is past its due date out for bulk pick-up. He paints the walls. He escorts people out the back (or maybe we do, cause Jesus would invite all wouldn't he?) and sells your luxury SUV for something more economical. There used to be a show called Trading Spaces where couples would redesign a room for one another. The big reveal was always the show's best moment. The look on a husband or wife's face when they see their new rooms are typical of our pride. Sometimes they cry, sometimes they are shocked. But every once in a while they stand there with that look on their face. The one that screams, "What happened?" Or, "you had all this time and you chose THIS?"
We want the prosperity and the blessings and the prayers fulfilled but in the meantime we are wary of the hurt, the change and the sacrifice. Like the student this week who was transferred into my room. I judged him as the bad kid, his mother even worse. Open a door for me Lord and I'll respond, I've prayed before. In walks in this kid and I'm looking to slam it. The mom sat in with him for 3 days. Totally atypical for a classroom observation. My colleagues whispered to me in the halls, they questioned why, they injected me with visions of revolt. I had to change the subject so many times I felt like I wasn't being sincere.
You see, I wanted that release of frustration. I wanted to pound drinks at happy hour and complain on twitter. I didn't want to be a change agent, but there I was teaching through it, hardly missing a beat. I think the kid will return without mom next week. Maybe he leaves to his online destination, maybe he doesn't. One thing's for certain, to God the time now matters. Each person in our life is a reason to respond to the love given to us. Judgment is easy. Love is hard.
Jesus wants to redesign more than a room. Trading Spaces.
Thanks for the shout out! I appreciate it.
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