I think we all are to some extent though, don't you?
Someone very close to me is going through something very hard right now. When I asked why they hadn't wanted to talk about it they said that they feared being judged by me. That they always feared being judged by me. My first reaction was that I felt frustrated because it is something I have run into a few times since being saved - family and friends assuming that since I make different choices than I used to, I must be judging them for doing the things I no longer do. First of all, this is not truth, and couldn't be farther from it. Second of all, this was actually not the problem at hand. The problem was that this person has always felt judged by me.
Can I tell you a secret? I used to be a bit of a jerk sometimes.
Especially in my early teen years I had a holier than thou presence about myself. This was worked out mostly in family relationships, but I think I also made mistakes in some friendships.
I hate that. SO much.
I hate that what I thought I knew about God made me feel and act this way. I hate that now that I have dived deeper into a relationship with Jesus it may be assumed that my holier than thou attitude has also increased. I mean, if I went to church every other Sunday then and yelled at my Uncle for drinking a beer, then what might I possibly do now?
I hate that I was known as the mean one. Described kindly as "headstrong" by my mother, but perhaps not given such sweet lip service from others. I was known for being able to get things done - just let Melissa talk to them. She'll convince them. I used to laugh at how mean I was to telemarketers. I was rude and proud of it. It always got a good laugh. There were some good qualities - I am loyal to my family like nothing else and very protective as well. But that didn't always bode well for new people coming in. When my Mom started dating my Step Dad he was nervous around me because (and I quote) he was scared of me.
These things. They haunt me.
I was born again almost 4 years ago, and the more I learn about God, the more I realize we are all the same before the Father. We all sit broken at the foot of the cross knowing we are not worthy, but covered in grace. All of us. The one that sleeps with men other than her husband. The one who's marriage has fallen apart. The ones that drink each weekend, and the ones that drink each day... our brokenness all looks different to us, but not to our Father. The good news is that Jesus died for all of it.
And even as I write this I feel as though Jesus is reminding me that I am a new creation in Him. I am spotless before him, and he remembers my sin no more. It hurts to be confronted with my old self because the friction of it rubbing up against my new self is uncomfortable. I am trying my best to not be discouraged by this, but instead to be spurred on to show as much of my new self (and subsequently Jesus) to this person, and as many people as I can.
I can only pray that the life I live now is a life of love and humility. I don't want to be known as the mean one anymore. I want my life to be marked by love.
Linking today with Emily at Imperfect Prose:
Like what you've read? Aside from following this blog, you can follow me on Facebook, as well as subscribe by email (Top left of this page) so you never miss a post!
Thanks for stopping by :)