There really are two sides to every story. I see that now.
My friend who we let sleep in our garage and then who would not leave or let me in to my freezer or washer. Who we had to forcibly evict, who stole stuff when she left. Who borrowed our dishes without washing and putting them back. Who I overheard weeping on the phone to a mutual friend (we went to the same church) that she didn’t know “what she had done wrong to cause me to be so mean to her. ”
I get it now that I have been judged without mercy.
My old landlady who seemed so mean and persnickety. Who would not let us have a cat. Who was mean about me wanting a cottage garden and tore up my beloved brick paths and climbing plants the minute I left, replacing them with turf and mulched beds.
I get it now that I have been a landlord (sort of).
My brother who abused my little cousin. Who I turned in to the police. Who went to prison for eleven years. Whose heart I broke. Who looked up to me. Who must have felt betrayed. It must be hard for him not to blame me when he can’t find a job now that’s he’s out. When the flesh-eating bacteria that he picked up in prison has permanently disabled his legs.
I get it now that I am the one who neglected and abused my kids and they can’t stand to visit me. I’m sure it hurts too much.
It’s so easy to want to take sides. To think in terms of good and bad guys. Don’t ya think?
My children\offenders\tenants\neighbors are not the bad guys anymore than I am. I’m just the one telling this story.
I would not want God’s job. He listens to both sides. I would get muddled. Confused. Swayed by the pain of the one telling the story.
He is straight as an arrow. True as steel. Neither too hard not too soft. He came “not to condemn the 🌎 but to save it” John 3:17ff. Yet He gave up EVERYTHING to make possible the saving of the 🌎. John 3:16
Friend of sinners.
Accepter of the disenfranchised.
He goes “to where the pain is”, to quote Richard Rhorh.
I am grateful.