John 8:7

Let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone.

We so get behind this verse.

We know how it is to stand alone before our accusers

struggling beneath the weight of their blows.

Our compassion calls out for mercy to triumph over judgment.

We've read the book and know that we too have stood drenched in the scarlet of our own misdeeds.

But...

But when the adulteress has slept with our husband

or the conspirators have robbed us of our children

or the foolish and immature have poured their poison into our cups

we want justice.

We waggle our tongues

we forget compassion and mercy

and we rage against the pain poured into the cup

that should have been the merriest of draughts.

We are hurt.

Humiliation snivels into our souls.

We want vengeance;

a swift reaping of the whirlwind sown upon our days.

And today, I crawled back onto my knees and asked a few tough questions about drawing the line between mercy/compassion and right judgment.

ooooh.

I was gently reminded that someone had loved me through my own poured-out poison

and that I had a part to play today.

Not to fix or judge.

But to participate in healing and reconciliation - one cry to him at a time.

A cry not just for myself,

but for the family and friends that I love - 

those folks whose lives are emblazoned in fire into my crusty heart.

And to cry out for those who set themselves as my enemies.

Not a cry of performance art

or sanctimony

but in decision to love

in the tough places.

To forgive as I have been forgiven.

And then this verse popped out from another page:

"Stay calm - we want you living in a way that will command the respect of outsiders, not lying around sponging off of your friends."**

Alrighty then.

Good thing I don't paddle this dugout alone.

(You are not alone in this world, either.)

Travel light my friends.

**1Thessalonians 4:11a & 12 (the Message translation)