Hi. My name is Cara …and I judge people.
I take the gavel into my own hands, and I decide to play the Great Judge.
I judge the homeless man who shouts at his reflection in the window, the one who paces back and forth after our Sunday night dinner. I judge the workers clad in orange jumpsuits, the ones who dig ditches on the side of my busy four-lane highway. I judge the woman who sits outside the post office with her four children in tow, cardboard signs propped on every lap, five sets of eyes that plead at me for mercy.
And I think: I take my medicine. Well, thank God my sin isn’t as bad as theirs. At least I’d have the decency to keep my kids in school.
I judge, I judge and I judge again, feeling justified in my judgment of others.
But when the ugliness of my own heart astounds me, my own lack of mercy begs me get down on hands and knees, and plead heavenward for more, for some, for any.
So tell me, am I the only one?
Am I the only one who forgets to show mercy to the least of these, to those who need it the most?
Click here to read the rest of the post, which is a discussion at She Loves Magazine on what may be the best and most important book I’ve read this year, Just Mercy. In light of all that’s happened this week in Baltimore – and beyond – I find talking about issues of race and social activism incredibly relevant.