Judge Not...

One of the cardinal rules of joyful living is that judging others takes a great deal of energy, and, without exception, pulls you away from where you want to be. ~Richard Carlson

Today I’m going to write about judging others. Over the years, several people in my life have remarked on my ability to be so understanding and accepting of others—at least when The Alien isn’t around, which, thankfully, is most of the time :). But the real me is usually pretty open, easygoing, and tolerant, inclined to give everyone and anyone the benefit of the doubt. That often ends up with me being taken advantage of in one way or another, but I’ve decided I’d rather go through life trusting people than not. When they fall down on the job, or fail to come through for me, that’s on them, not me for trusting them to do what they said they were going to do.

Doesn’t make my life any easier when something falls through and I have to scramble to compensate, but at least I know it’s not because I didn’t withhold my trust or support.

But I digress. Like I said, I wanted to write about judging others. I used to judge people all the time. Made me feel superior to them in some way, I guess. I don’t remember now, because now I make a conscious effort not to judge. Why is this? I didn’t have a lightning bolt of awareness strike me one day and do a total turn around in thinking, that’s for sure. My level of tolerance and understanding came slowly. It came as I got older, and it came over time. Eventually, I noticed it came every time I judged someone. Maybe not right away, but eventually, it came.

Funny how that worked. I’d look at someone and think, why on earth would they (do or say whatever it was they were doing and saying) and pass judgment…Good Lord, I’d never do (or say) that…and then, eventually, unfailingly, in God’s own time, I would find myself in that very same situation.

And I would understand. And I would remember passing judgment. And I would feel badly about it.

Fortunately I don’t usually speak my judgments aloud, so I had nobody to apologize to but thin air, but still…

They haunt me. I remember. And I have learned from them.

For instance, I was at a writer’s retreat one weekend, and a group of us were sitting in a room talking about writing, and a woman spoke up and said something to the effect of, “I haven’t written a word since I started having children.” Me, being childless at the time, thought, “Well that’s no excuse. You just tell the kids you’re busy and you write.”

Then I had my own son, who never took naps, and was always so sunny and inquisitive—I used to wish he would be bad so I could put him down for a forced nap and get some writing done—but it never happened. He was awake, lively, endlessly curious, and a joy to be with. Not tired at all. Until the end of the day, and by then I was exhausted, so no writing got done. For years.

Finally, I understood. And when I see that woman’s name on her books now…I remember, and wince a little inside. Because now I know what she meant, and how she felt, and how honest and brave it was of her to speak the truth to that room full of writers.

Another thing I never understood was why women didn’t color their roots a whole lot sooner. I’d see an inch of gray peeking out, and wonder, why even bother coloring if you’re going to run around looking like that?

Then I started coloring. And then I learned. Finally I gave up, and went gray. And for at least six months, while I let the color grow out, I was one of those women I used to judge. And I was aware of it every single day.

Those are only two of thousands of examples I have learned from over the years. Now, because of God’s uncanny ability to show me why people do the things they do when I, in my imagined superiority, thought they should be doing something differently…I’ve learned not to judge people. Any time I find myself slipping back into old thought patterns and starting to judge someone, I’ll catch myself and change direction. Try to find a way to understand their seemingly inexplicable behavior. Not because I’ve developed this wonderful altruistic streak—but because I don’t want to know the answer—at least not from the inside out. If it’s a friend and he or she wants to share with me, I’m all ears.

But I don’t want to have that experience. I don’t want to find myself in their shoes. I don’t want to find myself having to make those same choices. I’d rather stick to my own problems and my own choices.

So I don’t judge people any more. Instead, I trust that they are doing the best that they can with what they have or know or believe at the time, and know that they are struggling right along with the rest of us.

Everyone I know is struggling with something in one way or another. Everyone. With jobs, or lack of jobs, relationships, or lack of relationships, health issues, family issues, financial issues, addictions, choices and decisions to be made….you name it. Financially, spiritually, mentally, physically—people are hurting all around me.

So now, instead of passing judgment, I offer compassion instead. And prayers. Lots of prayers.

Is there someone you can pray for today?


We know nothing of the trials, sorrows and temptations of those around us, of pillows wet with sobs, of the life-tragedy that may be hidden behind a smile, of the secret cares, struggles, and worries that shorten life and leave their mark in hair prematurely whitened, and a character changed and almost recreated in a few days. Let us not dare to add to the burden of another the pain of our judgment. ~ William George Jordan ~

The Power of Sharing Our Stories

This week I attended the last program of our women’s series on healing at my church. This one was a recap of the four previous programs and ended up with a segment on sharing. We were invited to share our journey over the past five weeks, what we’ve learned, how our life has changed because of what we’ve experienced through attending the sessions.

The second week each participant chose a word from a basket of little pieces of paper with one word each on them. The idea was to meditate on that word and find out what special meaning it had in your life. I missed that week, so I got my word later. It wasn’t until this week, and people began sharing, that I realized everyone got a different word. For some reason, I had thought they just put five or six standard words in the basket and recycled them. But no. They had prepared 120 words, and each participant received the word that was especially meant for her at this point in her life.

As each woman who chose to speak stood and explained what her word was, and the meaning she found in it, the stories that unfolded were both heartwarming and tragic. There’s so much pain in the world, and women, who are relational, and who have awesome powers of endurance, seem to be the ones chosen to carry that pain. We care about the people we love, the people we serve, and in doing so, take their pain as our own.

Our church also has a special ministry, called the prayer shawl ministry. It was started by a woman whose sister was dying and while in her hospital bed, she received a prayer shawl to comfort her. A prayer shawl is one that has been knitted for the specific purpose of providing comfort to someone in need, and has been blessed and prayed over by the prayer shawl group after one member creates it. The person who creates it and the person who receives it most often will never meet, but you can also receive a prayer shawl from a friend, as I have.

This woman lost her sister, but brought the prayer shawl idea home, and started a new ministry within the church. Now they meet twice a week to knit shawls and bless them for others. Since the program was started, they have given out nearly 300 prayer shawls.

Since the evening’s topic was sharing, a few women had come prepared with stories to tell, to get the ball rolling. Each was visibly shaken by the telling, and broke down in tears. The women who listened, or received these stories into our hearts, were also visibly affected. Sniffles and hugs and hand holding and comforting rubs on the back abounded.

Then other women stood and voluntarily offered their stories, mostly about the word they had chosen and how they had tied it into their lives. Some of the words mentioned were trust, choices, focus, faith, healing, and solitude. One woman said when she read her word, she thought, “What a stupid word.” After the laughter died down, nods and murmurs of agreement ensued.

But in each case, the woman agreed that God knew what He was doing, when He presented her with that word, and reflecting on it had changed her way of thinking.

At the end, the prayer shawl ministry leader rose and asked if the group could present shawls to the women among us most in need of comfort. No one turned one down. Would you? Six shawls were brought out and prayed over by all of us, then lovingly draped across the shoulders of the women who had shared, and smiles and hugs ensued all around.

It was a powerful, moving experience. And the comment was made that we are all sisters in our pain and suffering, and that most times women are so busy being strong for others and trying to hold our families or situations together, that there’s no one there to comfort us. Mainly because women tend to suffer in silence. We don’t share our burdens, because we don’t want to burden anyone. We all know already how it feels to be the one who carries the burdens of others, and don’t want to intrude.

But women need to share. Not just our sorrows, but our joys and celebrations as well. There is a delicate balance to life, and within each tragedy arises hope if we will let it, and within each celebration comes the promise of sorrow. It’s simply the way things are. Life is not an endless series of highs, or an endless series of lows, but rather a blending of the two that move in a never-ending cycle. Have you ever seen someone crying for joy? A perfect example of the balance as it should be.

I have long believed that what brings you great joy will bring you an equal amount of pain. Therefore I go into any situation that brings me joy accepting that, and when the pain comes, I know it’s all part of the process. I’d much rather live that way than go through life feeling numb with a closed heart. It’s the pain that allows me to appreciate the joy, and to make the most of those precious moments when they come.

Out of these women’s pain came, if not joy, then great caring and kindness and love. That wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been willing to stand up and share what they were going through. We wouldn’t have been able to reach out to them if they had stayed silent.

Therefore I honor them, and salute them for having the courage to speak up, and I feel blessed to have been a part of their comfort and healing. And now when I see them, I will remember that we are all going through something at any given moment in time, and will--as another woman suggested we all do when we see each other in the future--be happy to reach out in sisterhood with compassion and kindness.

Oh, and my word? It was peace.

Peace be with you, now and always.

In Celebration of Women's History Month

The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world. ~William Ross Wallace, 1819-1881

On Thursday night I attended a program at my church celebrating the remarkable healing power of women. It was just what I needed with The Alien doing her best to drag me down. I was able to stave her off with healthy eating and exercise the first two days, but on the third day she totally kicked my butt. I managed to stay awake until my son came home from school, then crashed for a nap. The phone rang, and I opened my eyes, saw it was light outside and thought it was already the next day and I must have slept in. Nope. It was dinner time. So I pulled myself together, got something to eat, and went to church.

First we had a wonderful slide presentation made up of women and girls from all over the world. Mothers, grandmothers, daughters, siblings, and friends, showing them working, helping, healing, praying, celebrating, caring for others in a hundred different ways, and expressing every emotion under the sun from unbridled joy to shock to tenderness to grief. Women are such beautiful, complex creatures, and it breaks my heart sometimes to know how often we are mistreated, misunderstood, discounted, and demeaned the world over.

But it also makes me proud to see how we persevere, especially in cultures and institutions that believe we have nothing of value to offer, other than backbreaking work or child-rearing. What those who would devalue us fail to see is that raising our future generations is the most important job there is. Unfortunately, those of us who are busy rocking the cradles are often either too conditioned or exhausted to see that as well.

Since this is women’s history month, I urge you to check out this site and see for yourself some of the inspiring contributions women have made over the years despite having to fight for those accomplishments every step of the way. In honor of this, last night I tried to watch Iron Jawed Angels, about the women’s suffrage movement and their determination to attain the right to vote. Unfortunately, the CD was cracked, so I didn’t get too far. But I got far enough to hear that a vote is a voice.

To think that women died for the right to vote is mind-boggling. Please check out the reviews here, and make the time to watch it yourself. It will make you think twice about staying home on Election day.

After the slide show, the speakers shared stories about remarkable women they had known, and we were reminded of how each of us has many things to offer, in the areas of—just to name a few--health, education, business, politics, community service, spirituality, justice, compassion, caretaking, and healing. How each of us has special gifts and talents, and the use of those gifts and talents in service to others causes ripples through the lives of those we serve, like dropping a pebble into a pond of water.

We were then each given a pebble to carry, to remind us to make ripples.

Make some ripples today. Let your voice be heard. Offer a helping hand or a word of encouragement to someone who needs it. Speak out against injustice. Stand up for something you believe in. Stand up for yourself. (Sometimes serving yourself is the best way to serve others--otherwise you’re just enabling them.) Offer the gift of healing touch to someone in pain. Offer the gift of forgiveness to someone who can’t forgive themself.

There are so many ways you can make a difference. Even the smallest act of courage or kindness can ripple on to infinity.

Can You Spare A Moment in Time?

I think we’ve all received that email at one time or another where a young boy who has been teased and tormented at school finally clears out his locker and plans to go home and kill himself, but on the way he drops his books and someone stops to help him pick them up, someone who becomes a friend, and in that moment changes his plans and his life. (If you haven't read it yet, here's one link, and then another, kindly supplied by the hosts of Zen Moments, who stumbled across this post--Thank You!) There are others, such as the story of a cab driver who picked up an elderly woman on her way to a hospice and ended up driving her around town for hours without charging her so that she could relive her favorite memories one last time. Then there are the Christmas stories about single mothers with no money to buy presents for their children, and yet many presents arrive.

Last but not least is the story of Teddy Stoddard, which has inspired many, but according to Snopes, is a fictional story of a young boy who taught his teacher a life lesson she will never forget.

The themes that all these stories have running through them are kindness and compassion, something we could all use a little more of in our lives. Whether they are true or not, they are meant to make us stop for a moment and think about the things we say and do—or don’t say and do--and realize the possible impact we can have on the people around us, from our closest family members to the clerks and cashiers we meet in passing in the drive-throughs, checkout lines, and toll booths of our lives.

I’ve had several moments in my life that either gave me hope, courage, or the willpower and determination to continue. One that stands out in my mind is rather gross, but unforgettable. I was pregnant with my only child, a high risk pregnancy, and I had started bleeding, and was terrified I would lose the baby. I called a friend about something else and in the course of the conversation, broke down with my fear. Quite nonchalantly, she said to me, “Oh, you’d be surprised at how much you can bleed and still keep the baby.” She then went on to tell me of her experience, which had been much worse than mine was.

Still, I held onto her words like a lifeline until I delivered a healthy baby boy.

I’ve since gone back and thanked the woman for getting me through that terrifying time, and she doesn’t even remember our conversation. It was just an off the cuff remark she made to reassure me and she didn’t give it a second thought.

Which just goes to show that you never know how your words or actions will affect the lives of others.

I’ve had people come back to me, and tell me things that I said to them that gave them new hope and determination for a situation they were facing. Things I don’t remember saying, but made all the difference in the world to them…and for that I am glad.

Any moment can be one that you or someone you’ve encountered remembers for a lifetime, a little jewel in the sandstorm of life, for you to take out and remember and appreciate when the going gets tough. Most of those moments are rooted in random acts of kindness. I’m not saying you need to join the World Kindness Movement, or any other kindness organization, but simply encouraging you to take time in your day to smile at someone who might not receive a smile otherwise, open doors for men and women alike, especially the elderly and mothers with young children, say please and thank you to clerks and other attendants, or stop and listen, really listen, to a child.

We all want to matter to someone, we all want to count. We all want to be seen and heard in ways large and small. All it takes to acknowledge that special person in your life, a friend, acquaintance, or even a complete stranger, is a moment of your time.

There is no greater gift on this day we celebrate love and romance, or any day, than You.

As a special Valentine’s Treat, leave a comment with a life-changing moment for you here for a chance to win an autographed copy of Thin Ice and an even bigger prize--a 5-ARC (advanced reading copy) package from the Classic Romance Revival authors who are participating in today’s Moment in Time Blog Carnival. The winner will be drawn from visitors commenting on the most blogs.

To qualify for the grand prize, you need to register for the contest. Please visit the Classic Romance Revival blog to find details of all the participating blogs and to register.