Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you; a good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.Luke 6:37-38
My words…
Praise
My first bible was given to me by my parents. All of Your words, Jesus, are written in red ink. These words from Luke are written in red. I believe with my whole heart that the red words are all I need to live fulfilled on this planet. There aren’t that many red words, especially in light of the fact they were spoken by the Almighty Son of God for all humankind. They may be few, but they’re weighty, given with an eternal perspective. I am grateful for every word You spoke and for every person who wrote them down, so I could read them on a day like today. Because today, these words visited my house.
Prayer for me and Samantha
As I worked in my front yard, a car rolled by my house. I took notice because the car was not covered in a shiny coat of paint, but in dull, gray primer. Who would paint their car in primer? I went back to work, and I noticed the car had turned around and was headed back my way. Oh no. I paid too much attention to that car. Now they’re coming back. A smiling, pleasant looking woman called to me from her open window. I approached, assuming she would ask for directions to a nearby home. “Hi! I have a job interview this afternoon, and I was wondering if you could help me out. I have an apartment nearby. You may have seen my around.” She went on to assure me she was not on any government assistance programs, spouting acronyms I had never heard of. She’s probably lying. When she stopped to draw breath, I asked, “What do you need?” “Some money to buy gas and food would be great.” She smiled. An old man sat in her passenger seat. He never stopped talking, yet I heard not a word. The woman looked his way and nodded back at me as if I were part of the three-way conversation. If only I had not paid so much attention to that car.
It’s not everyday an opportunity for me to be You pulls up outside my house. I see people in need, seated by the roadside, holding signs with messages of need. But I’m tucked safely in my car, behind a barrier of metal and glass with a choice of whether to turn my head or drive by. But not this time. Only a barrier of soft spring breeze separated me from woman in the car. If everything she said were true, and she didn’t have enough gas in her car to get to her job interview, and she was hungry, then the woman (and apparently the old man with her) had fallen on hard times, had swallowed their pride, and asked a perfect stranger for help. They were in need of You in action. If, however, the woman was lying, and she was trolling the streets of my city, looking for an unsuspecting person within calling distance from the curb to work her scam and take her chances on getting a few bucks, she was still in need of You in action. I judged her the minute I saw her primed car. In that moment, I was judged. I find it compelling that judging and giving are mentioned in the same lesson. It’s easy to judge and not give, but it’s also easy to judge as I give.
Before she drove away, I asked for her name. “Samantha,” she said. “I’ll pray for you,” I replied. She smiled and drove away. And so I pray for Samantha. If she needs a job, I pray you will bless her with one, so she will have the means to care for herself and the man in her passenger seat. I pray she will never go hungry. You love her. I pray she comes to know that fully. And lastly, I pray for me. Forgive my snap-to judgmental heart. I am ashamed. I didn’t do a good job of living according to the red words. If Samantha stops by again, I’ll be ready.
