Sunday Devotion: The Other Side of Judgement

Gina Holmes



Do not judge, or you too will be judged. Matthew 7:1

I once wrote a poem called “Black and White”, which accurately described my line of thinking as an on fire born-again, self-proclaimed Jesus freak. What the Bible said was what the Bible meant. There were no gray areas. There were no exceptions. There was grace but only for the rare obedient few.

When a friend came to me and said she was thinking of leaving her husband, without hearing her out, I counseled her on the consequences her children would face, on the fact that God hates divorce and she would not be blessed and all the other things we say to encourage a person to keep their covenant. She stayed and I was quite pleased with myself.

I later found out he had been badly abusing her and their children.

Several years ago, my world underwent an upheaval that would unbalance the best of Christians. Most of this happened at a time when my life was seemingly beyond reproach. I ran a CEF Bible club for the neighborhood children from my home and many were led to Christ. I taught Sunday school and was an AWANAS leader at my church and attended BSF (Bible study fellowship) each week. My heart was where it needed to be, or so I thought.

At that time, someone close to me stumbled and fell. My own faith and morals were questioned by even those close to me. I was horrified. I was humbled and I was humiliated.

I’d like to say my faith in God did not waver, but that’s not true. I was hanging on, but by the barest of threads. How could God say He loved me and allow this to happen? I went through depression. I went through anger. I settled into ambivalence and there I stayed for quite a while.

The only prayer I could muster during this time was a tearful nightly whisper of, “Lord, don’t leave me.” I couldn’t read my Bible. It was no longer the rule book I trusted. I realized there were gray areas and how much God seemingly left out that I wished He would address.

I began to question my black and white thinking, which brought to mind my friend. Surely God didn’t hate divorce in the case of a woman who did not have a marriage but an enslavement. Surely He didn’t really think she and her children should be constantly belittled and beaten. And if she left the situation as many Christians suggested, but didn’t divorce or remarry, did God really mean for her, a young woman, to never know the love of a good man? How should I have counseled her given what she was dealing with? I didn’t have the answers anymore. I still don’t.

Through the painful circumstances I’ve gone through, God has broken me. Ground me to dust so He could reshape me into a more beautiful vessel. One who no longer judges as I once did, sitting high on a legalistic stool and looking down on those whose shoes I have not walked in. I know now, things aren’t always black and white. Not always.

Now when I see someone I perceive to be in a sinful situation, I hurt for them, pray for them, and remember that not everything is what it appears. It’s God’s job to judge, mine to love.


Father, lift the scales from my eyes and soften my heart. May I never let my guard down and think that I’m above reproach. That I’m incapable of the sins I have judged others for. Teach me to love like you. Give me wisdom and teach me to extend the same grace Jesus would to those who need it most.

In Your Son’s name, amen.