|Today I remember that whenever I point my finger at someone else, there are three more fingers pointing right back at me.|
"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." - St. Matthew 7:1 & 2
Desperation from physical illness drove me to seek God at His mighty ocean, and there, in its thundering stillness, I experienced His healing touch.
As I played in the waves that tickled the shoreline, I saw a lady wearing a long-sleeved white cotton shirt with red poinsettias and gold sparkles, of the sort one would not buy even if it was Christmas, which it was not. How very odd, I thought. Perhaps the sun has affected her.
As I played in the waves that tickled the shoreline, I felt my skin beginning to scorch. The very next day found me wearing a long-sleeved white cotton shirt with red poinsettias and gold sparkles, of the sort one would not buy even if it was Christmas, which it was not. Indeed, the sun had affected me. I was glad the poinsettia shirts were on sale at half price.
Perhaps it wasn't my body that needed the most healing after all. The soul sickness that quickens me to pounce upon my fellow travelers, to shred them with unfounded criticisms, emerges without warning. Grateful for some awareness of this character defect, I searched for its root within the framework of my own conditioning. There it lay, buried beneath my sorry lack of self-esteem: I remembered hearing over and over, "What's wrong with you?" as I was not growing up. Now, if I continually point my finger at you, listing all of your imperfections, then I avoid the unbearable task of looking at the flaws in my own character. If I can make it look like there's something "wrong" with you, then I don't have to look at what's "wrong" with me. I must look at me, however, if I am ever to grow up.
Summer dandelions look sweet and perky while they bloom, but left unattended, they overcome the garden and choke the life out of the grasses and flowers of our intent. Once they go to seed, they spill over onto the neighbor's lawn, and neighbors tend to frown upon our pretty dandelions.
Our own weedy tuberous root systems must be expunged if we are to grow into the grasses and flowers of God's intent, if we are to enjoy healthy relationships with God and man, if we are to receive healing to our souls.
Today I remember that whenever I point my finger at someone else, there are three more fingers pointing right back at me.
Lord, today I choose health to my soul by my willingness to point my finger at me instead of my fellow travelers. Help me to see that the only thing "wrong" with me was that I was not walking with you.