“I care very little if I’m judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I don’t even judge myself. For I am not concious of anything against myself, but I am not justified by this. It is the LORD who judges me.” 1 Corinthians 4:3-4

Wow, summer came and went. Thinking about the impossible brevity of it makes me sad, and I pray this isn’t the new normal. Funny to think only a few short years ago I would dread long days with littles, trying so hard to be present and cherish every moment, but feeling so guilty when someone would pipe in with, “The days are long, but the years are short!” and I would want to manhandle her. Thank you for the well-timed platitude, Jessica. 😉

Of course, I knew that time was evil and those years did slip by like sand through my fingers. But this summer was a first since I’ve been a parent that the joke of time was doubly cruel: the years AND the days are now short. Why wasn’t I warned about this part?

Anyway, with the kids back in school, I am motivated to start my blog back up as a creative outlet and a way to feel like my opinions matter, at least to the 0-3 people who will read these. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about lately…

About once every quarter I go and have myself a mental breakdown to my husband about all the things I thought I had given to God, but I simply internalized and ruminated on. I recycle the same themes, let the enemy use the same tricks, and sometimes by the sheer grace of God, I learn a smidgen more truth and grow by hairsbreadths each season.

So this latest episode entailed a diatribe about judgment, of all things. People judging me, me judging myself, judgment-adjacent cycles I feel trapped in or exhausted by. This isn’t a new topic for me and my poor husband. Obviously, the Lord is still working out my faith here, but maybe someone else out there will find solidarity or feel seen in the little things the Holy Spirit reteaches my stubborn heart.

First is the simple comfort that Jesus knows our frame. He sees our true selves even more clearly than we do. Over and over in His Word He reminds us that He knows us and acknowledges that we will judge and be judged. Sometimes, all we need (especially women) is for someone to understand what it’s like. And He does.

Many women can probably relate to being a discerning or intuitive person. I was telling Billy that sometimes I feel like I can take one look at someone and know what they think of me. He encouraged me by suggesting maybe I don’t know for sure, maybe it’s better than I think, or maybe it is their own insecurities, etc. For me, though, none of that motivates me toward friendship or makes me feel better about myself because my true desire is not to feel better about myself. I feel like I have pretty good self-confidence. What I want is to not think about any of it at all, ever. 

Having a “double-vision” of yourself is exhausting. I am one person, my true self, on the inside, and while I am not ashamed of that person, I constantly see myself from the perspective of the outside looking in. I may not change my behavior based on what I assume someone wants from me, but it is still tiresome knowing, or thinking I know, what they think. I told him it’s like I only have two or three people in my life who don’t need me to fill a role in their life or in their box for me in their mind. Only two or three people in the world who take me for me — I’m not this person with whom they interact on a certain plane and have these certain thoughts about etc. They don’t need anything from me in order to have a relationship with me and love me. They just love me and let me be (or not be) whatever.

At this point you may be thinking, “Wow, this girl thinks about herself a lot.” And you would be exactly right. But there’s more to that, too, because I not only think about myself too much, but I also never come to a satisfying conclusion with it because a lot of us women don’t think we deserve to think about ourselves or we don’t have a good grasp on how to rightly think about ourselves in light of how God thinks about us. Phew! How I love being a woman! Because, as my husband can attest, wrapped up in all these thoughts is an undertone of guilt that I would guess is the same for many women. Guilt for thinking these things, guilt for wanting to be treated differently or for wanting more from relationships, guilt for wanting someone to take the time to listen and understand us.

For example, as I guiltily — head down, ears down, tail tucked — explained to my husband that I feel guilty for wanting someone, for once, to have to be put out by ME — no, I’m sorry, YOU will have to go out of YOUR way or change YOUR plans this time — instead of me having to give up control over my life at every turn, he said, “See, that’s the problem. You feel guilty about that.” 

This was a lightbulb moment. I am thankful to have been discipled under a Christian teaching that was always heavy on the “feet-washing” side of love thy neighbor. I think that’s a reading of Scripture consistent with Jesus’ life and ministry. I don’t think we will ever regret seeking to live that way. However, if it is to the point of changing who I am or ignoring my own spiritual and emotional needs, it isn’t Christ-honoring. Think how put out the disciples must have sometimes been with Jesus extracting himself from ministry in order to be alone. He didn’t feel guilty about that. He didn’t over-explain himself to people. He went all the way to the grave letting people keep him in a box in their minds that could never define who He actually was.

I’ve been equating loving my neighbor as making them feel comfortable with who I am. Being who they need me to be to them. Playing the role despite my true self just wanting to be LEFT ALONE sometimes. (Cue someone telling me to read The Let Them Theory.) 

Please tell me this resonates with someone out there. I know it resonated with Jesus, and with Paul who said he wouldn’t even judge himself. Think about both men’s work and ministries, how well they loved people. But they knew judgment belonged to God alone. My kids’ judgment of me doesn’t matter. My husband’s, my friends’, my family’s. My coworkers’, my church’s, the parents at little league. My own judgment (usually guilty) of myself does not matter. Only God judges me, and Jesus has already justified me. And if justified, sanctified (hairsbreadth by hairsbreadth), and if sanctified, glorified.

Pressure’s off.

God, teach it to my heart again.