Do You Have a Plank in Your Eye--Or Does Someone Else Just Have You on a Guilt Trip?

Verses that are liable to stir up a hornets' nest like this one in the tree we picnicked under last Sunday noon are, 'Judge not, that you be not judged..." and "First remove the plank from your own eye."

Because it is always easy to think that the plank is really in our brother's eye,

and our own eye is clear--

or at least only has a splinter in it.

Just a speck, Lord. 

My fault is just a speck compared to the other guy's.

His faults are major planks,

maybe even whole bridges.

But on the other side of the coin,
sometimes it is difficult to differentiate between a plank in our own eye

or a guilt trip that someone has put us on--

someone who has a habit of blaming others and not taking responsibility for themselves. 

What we end up feeling is still pain--and often guilt (whether real or false, or perhaps a combination of both) and the pain and guilt is hard to figure out sometimes.

Things can be really upside down and twisted up and can leave us hanging.

But the same Christ who spoke scathing words to hypocrites who have planks in their eyes and want to pick at specks in others' eyes

also said in the very next verse, "Do not give what is holy to the dogs;

nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, 

and turn and tear you in pieces."

According to Matthew Henry's commentary, He was concerned about the pearls of honesty, humility and honest rebuke.

You don't rebuke a scorner, Proverbs tells us, lest he put you to shame. 

Christ cared about His people's feelings and wanted them to be wise about whom they spoke up to and whom they confronted and rebuked.
Some people simply won't value correction, confrontation, or rebuke.

A humble person will listen to rebuke, even if yours is a bit awkward.

He will try to put the best construction on it and will see what improvement he can gain by it. 

He will still love you--even if he has had to say "Ouch."

Even if he has been wounded.
 Jonathan and I have been wounded a few times at each others' honest rebukes,
and humbled when we are confronted with our own similar fault that we're upset with the other about, which we are guilty of, only in a different area.

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend," Proverbs says, "but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful."  Jonathan and I still love each other, 

because we value each other's criticisms and rebukes.

But a scoffer will make sure your rebuke or criticism will be consistently turned back on your own head and you will be left looking bad and to blame.

He will make sure it is you who is on the guilt trip. 

Your pearl of honest and up front confrontation will be trampled in the mire.

So if you wonder if you have been the person with the plank in your eye

or if the pain that keeps coming back is something that the enemy wants to use to keep you torn up

I don't think God want us to grovel with worry over who has a plank or a splinter,

but just to be reminded once again to be careful how we judge others,

since we know how painful it is to have been the one judged.

May God's comforting word lift our spirits when we feel anxious lest we are the one with planks and bridges in our eyes--
when we have been torn with confusion because of things that have happened.

"Do not worry about your life...Are you not more value than [many sparrows]?"

Remind us, Lord, to rest in You and let Your peace guard our hearts,
and to love others.

Give us the grace to overcome evil with good,
and when we don't really know what to do next in a particular situation,
to just "do the next right thing" in our life right now,
as John Maxwell wrote in his book about failures.
Just take the next right step where you are right now.

Dear God, I Can't Bear Blue Stain on my Carpet, Flies Baked in My Bread, and Things Like That!

Monday turned into a blue Monday.

After directing Hannah to get the vacuum to sweep up a pile of blue craft sand spilled on the carpet in the schoolroom, I later returned from supervising other things to discover a blue stain on the carpet!

She had obediently vacuumed, but when some sand remained,

she had gotten a wet rag and started to try to clean the rest up that way.

 Well, you guessed it.

It didn't clean up very well. 

And I sort of panicked.

Jonathan, who happened to still be home, suggested vinegar, but blue still stayed.

Goo Gone got more out, but the blue is there--probably forever.

 I had to try to stop to ask why I was so freaked out
and on the verge of tears.
What was so horrible about a blue stain on the carpet?

Was it really about a blue stain--or about a trigger?

Did it trigger the feelings of intense shame I felt growing up in a home that was never

company ready?

The shame when relatives or the pastor or somebody else showed up and--

we flew around in an impossible effort to make the place presentable?

 

And then there is the shame of what your house looks like

when you hear teaching and preaching about how God wants excellence in the area of how we keep our homes and parsonages and churches and yards and schools and so on. 

 

God said, "Let everything be done decently and in order," didn't He?

And blue stains on the carpet aren't exactly decent, are they?

Plus, you try so hard to teach your children respect of property. 

Like, No eating anywhere but the kitchen,

and

No dirty feet on the sofa and

Treat furniture with care, and Nothing but clean hands on the piano.

(That means no toy cars running up and down the keys.)

Somehow that stain was driving me up the wall with the sheer

permanence of it,

the fear that every time I walked into that room, 

I would see this hopeless blue stain.  

Till I realized that I could choose.

 

I could choose to fret and stew every time I came into that room,

just fret and stew forever and ever Amen.

Or I could choose to decide that we had done our best,

and the stain was just still there,

and so, we would go on with life,

blue stain and all.

Not everyone can buy a new carpet every time something spills on it.

You can't always control the blue or yellow or purple stains that end up on it--

or the melted triangular shape that happened years ago when the hot iron landed on the living room--yes, the living room floor. . 

And just because you have a stain and melted spot on your carpet

doesn't mean you are a bad person

or that you never taught your kids anything about keeping a home decent.

You can be the most efficient housekeeper and homemaker in the world,

and blue sand will still spill on your carpet,

and sparks from your woodstove will still land on the vinyl or carpet,

and when you have kids, 

forget about shampooing the carpet till the last one heads out the door to college. 

And you can be  the most spotless housekeeper in the world,

and the best cook,

and still end up with flies baked into your bread.

The baker was horrified!

And you can choose to gag and gasp and gurgle and gulp

forever and ever Amen,

or you can flick the silly fly out of its snug bed of warm bread dough

and go blithely on with life.

You have to admit,

not everything in life is picture perfect.

Not everything is going to be the shape it's supposed to be.

There are some things that are just going to be sort of weird

forever and ever Amen.

And God is so much more interested in an excellent spirit

and an excellent attitude

than in a perfect picture

or a perfect carpet without any stains in the children's room,

or super clean vegetables just out of the garden.

There's something about learning patience in the spin cycles of life

when you are soaked in responsibilities

and drained of energy

and spun dry of inspiration.

Learning the patience that does your best

and lets go of the rest.

And it isn't patience, either, to just be the kind of person who stays calm, cool and collected 

sort of automatically--

the kind of person who usually sits there and lets someone else take care of the problem
because that is easier than taking personal responsibity
like the person took who is actually doing the work and cleaning up the  mess
and taking care of the problem.
Patience is not about sitting there quietly letting someone else take responsibility
and then criticizing that person for the action they took.
It is about swallowing how you feel when you would rather be doing something besides taking care of one more problem in a big series of spills, stains, lost items, and grouchy attitudes.
Patience is learned, not inborn. 

********** 

So you forget about the blue stain, and walk to that cottonwood tree for the first ever picnic  lunch

with your husband on a weekday in that particular spot

just because you are yearning for trees and leaves to crunch on this autumn.

Smiling at the little boy that comes on the run when he and his brothers get home from mowing

the church lawn.

Because we really can bear a blue stain on the floor and flies baked into our bread

as long as there is love in the home!

Love Is Homegrown!

Thursday or Friday of last week dawned brisk and chilly with this beautiful scene out our front window--

snow on Pikes Peak.

 With frost predicted, we knew we had better cover our gardens or harvest them.

We hated to say goodbye to our mailbox flowers, but summer does come to an end.

 Thursday we spent cutting up Jonathan's deer and hanging Sam's in the garage.

Sam had gotten his buck, too,  just before they were going to start home from hunting!

That put them several hours later than expected, but no problem!

It was so exciting that they brought home two deer.  

I scrubbed our own potatoes and carrots from our raised beds to roast with this venison

we were roasting for dinner to which we'd invited Jonathan's parents.

 It was a joy to share the first and best and freshest with Jonathan's parents.

We had gone out to harvest any tomatoes...

 to dig up the blooming marigold...

and pick some of the bachelors buttons...

 and gather a few of the best flowers blooming around the mailbox.

 I could not stop admiring this beautiful homegrown bouquet that Carrie had planted, tended, and now gathered.

 We picked beets and I scrubbed them to make a dish of hot beets for supper.

 Meanwhile, hunting gear hangs on the line, freshly laundered.

 Cherry tomatoes are gathered.

Potatoes are dug.

 And carrots are pulled.

 Proud gardeners!

 Grandma brought a bouquet of her nasturtiums, which perfectly matched our autumn tablecloth.

And of course there were hunting stories to tell,

 and photos to look at on Jonathan's phone.

Jonathan and Timmy up in the mountains.

We were grateful for God's hand upon Sam and Rose as they narrowly escaped being hit by lightning as an unexpected thunderstorm came through, with lightning striking very near them

as they crossed a meadow on the 4-wheeler.

We were so happy to have Jonathan and boys home again--

with fresh venison this time!

Grandma leans over Carrie's shoulder to look at a pictorial of Rev. and Mrs. Harry Plank

in the most recent God's Missionary Standard.

So we celebrate summer's last treasures...

 and all things homegrown and homemade with love...

 created by God for beauty and glory and joy.