The age old adage, “Never judge a book by its cover” has always been practiced by me, the English teacher, in a literal sense. Jane Eyre, Heart of Darkness, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and so many other classics have such boring covers, but between the binding beautiful, rich life lessons and stories unfold. In practical life, however, unfair judgment is sown daily. Many people I encounter misunderstand my assertiveness and awkwardness and never truly see my heart. Much of this is my fault because I carry too much baggage I should have left in the luggage terminal years ago.
As the Lord moves me to new places and unfolds fresh vision, the importance of “traveling light” is growing more and more clear. I lay a bit of the past down each day, and I sometimes wish individuals from the past could see the changes and encounter me with fresh eyes. But, I can’t look into the past because I am not going that direction.
One of the most life changing lessons the Lord allowed me to learn didn’t come from the Bible or a pulpit, but the ballpark. For me, what seemed like an ordinary hot evening for the final regular season game became a night that forever changed how I interact with people. I climbed the rickety bleachers to the top row, the only row with back support, coming to show support for my son. I certainly did not expect the team to win by any means. Facing the best team in the league and our team showing obvious end of the season fatigue, the outcome did not look promising. The prospect of success grew more slim when start time was approaching, and our star player was still missing in action. Just minutes before play, his mom whipped her glistening mom mobile into the gravel lot and handed the coaches the team’s catcher’s equipment. She seemed unapologetic when she informed them her son would not be showing up for his team that day.
I was angry. My competitive spirit surged with disgust and ugly thoughts like, “She’s a coddler, allowing her son not to come, just because he hates losing. Doesn’t she know we need him! How selfish!” This young man is an amazing athlete, and no other boy on the team was skilled at the catcher’s position. The critical judgment was seething in my head, certain this momma had grown weary of consoling her son after several losses in a row, and thus was sparing him from sure defeat.
My pride was boiling inside the cauldron of my unchecked thoughts. Thankfully, so so thankfully, I didn’t spew that venom to any other ball parents, but kept my ugliness to myself.
Sure enough, Isaiah’s team lost, and not surprisingly the world spun freely on its axis the next day.
The first game of tournament came, and our star catcher was early, excited to contribute and hopefully extend the season a bit longer. The tired and weary momma of this precious boy climbed the bleachers to the top and whispered an apology for her child’s absence. She tearfully shared that her husband had abruptly moved out the afternoon of the last game. Little League is of little importance to a son and momma who are blindsided and trying to make sense of a world that had just been shattered.
Instantly, I was overcome with guilt and grief. I stomped noisily to the bottom bleacher slat; I had to get away, had to collect myself. The memories of all the times I have been mislabeled, misunderstood, and unfairly judged washed over me, taking away breath. Once when Josie was a toddler, she became obsessed with pajamas, and put on seven different pairs of pajamas, just minutes before Wednesday evening church. During that season of life she and I said hello to each day at 4:30 a.m., she was dropped at sitter’s by 5:30, so I could begin an hour commute from hometown in central time zone to my school in the eastern. Weekends were filled with long treks to see dad in a prison camp. By Wednesday night, I was already exhausted, and wrestling a toddler out of seven layers of clothes was not an endeavor I was willing to tackle, though if I did tackle that child, she would have had a soft cushion. She proudly pranced into church looking like a princess linebacker; people stared. I wanted to explain, but didn’t have the energy. I was trying to survive, and the important thing was we were present. We made it to church. We needed compassion and empathy, not judgment.
How dare I do the same to someone else, as if I know the motives or the heart of another! “…for God sees not as a man sees, for man looks at outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16: 7 NIV). Confessing my pride and ignorant judgment to the Potter, the one who knows my every ugly thought, my Maker graciously choose to stop the Potter’s wheel, and start anew, reforming and perfecting the marred clay that I was.
I can’t recall the winner of that game; nor can I remember if my son hit well or played good defense. But, that eureka moment of conviction has forever changed the way I see people. Since those bleachers creaked with the weight of my sinful heart, I am a better friend, better teacher, better person
As a woman, teacher, and Christian this teachable moment showed me the importance of giving others the benefit of the doubt and seeing the best in all be people. Christ says in John 13:35, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another…”. Ugly hearts masked by kind works lack the authenticity God wants from us. Parents who don’t show up for parent/teacher conferences—doesn’t mean they don’t care; maybe they’re working second shift to provide. Unexpected absences, weird outfits, and too many other circumstances to name, nearly always have a worthy explanation—explanations that are not my business.
MANY other cringe-worthy moments have occurred, and I have felt the glares and the bewildered looks, but at the end of the day, I’m doing the best I can. The catcher’s mom was too. Aren’t most people? We must start seeing that, especially in the church. We must stop worrying about what others are doing, what they’re wearing, or what their motives are. Drop the judgmental heart and, “Therefore as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience” (Colossians 3: 12 NIV). Let’s all love better and see the best, as Christ intended for His people.
Epilogue- Since that day, I have prayed hard for the catcher’s family. Mom and dad reunited, and glory to God, they just welcomed a precious daughter into the family. God’s business is redemption!
