Category Archives: plank pullin’

October 27, 2011 · 10:57 AM

Plank Pullin: The one where I want to bang my head into the wall

It’s Plank Pullin’ time!  The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye.  Matthew 7:3-5 style.

I have a fantasy.  In this fantasy, I carefully back up my blog, and then I delete the whole thing.  Poof, gone from the internet forever.  Then I delete my blog’s Facebook page,  followed my personal page.  And then I go on with my life, in my happy little non-connected bubble, never to write a single word about unschooling or parenting ever again.

And it’s not because I have privacy concerns, or because I’m burnt out, or because I particularly want to stop blogging.  It’s because I find writing about what I write about to be very, very frustrating.  Like, repeatedly-bang-my-head-into-the-wall frustrating.   Although it’s actually not the writing so much as it is what comes afterwards.  It’s always nice to get positive comments, and I’ve learned to (mostly) shrug off the negative ones.  I love it when people comment who say, “You know what, I see where you’re coming from, and I understand what you’re saying… but I disagree.”  No, what causes the head banging is the people who, despite my very best efforts at being clear and concise and detailed enough in my writing, COMPLETELY miss my point.  The people whose comments make very clear that they don’t understand what it is I’ve just said.  The people who want to argue or debate with me based on a false understanding of what unschooling or gentle parenting or freedom really is.  And the fact is, I can’t have a discussion with you if we’re talking about two entirely different things.  I try, repeatedly, and it just doesn’t work.   It always makes me wonder if 1) I’m just a really terrible writer who can’t seem to make a whole, unified point, or 2) I’m speaking a language that only a select group of people can understand.

It makes me frustrated.  It makes me grumpy.  It makes me want to embody my petulant inner child, gather up my ball from the playground, and go home.  They don’t understand.  Last night – actually 4:00 this morning – I was tossing and turning thinking about, and very nearly woke up the husband just to complain to him.  “They. don’t. get. it.”  I didn’t, mind you (you’re welcome, honey) but I wanted to.  It frustrates me that much.

But. The thing is, not everyone is going to get it.  And I’m sure it’s very likely – certain even – that there is somewhere out there frustrated by MY lack of understanding about something.

“This Jen girl, man, she’s not hearing a word I’m saying, and it is driving me crazy.”

It’s just the way it goes.   And I have to believe that I’m still writing for a reason.  I have to.  So I’ll remove my head from the wall, put on my big girl underwear, and deal with it.

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October 20, 2011 · 9:35 AM

Plank Pullin’: My big mouth

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.

 

I try really hard not to gossip or complain about others.  It’s not nice, of course, and I don’t like listening to other people doing it.   The other day though, a situation with one individual had gotten the better of me, and I unloaded a torrent of frustrations onto a faithful friend.  This person wasn’t doing anything to me personally mind you, but just – in my ever so humble opinion – being generally obnoxious to mankind as a whole. They were wrong (because, you know, everyone is supposed to be perfect all the time and never do anything unseemly). I didn’t like it, so I complained about it.  I stood there and complained about it, and judged someone, and said unkind things….. and basically did all the stuff that I find so distasteful in others.

The very next day, this person did something that not only made me regret my words, but also completely and utterly proved me wrong.  With a capital W.  (Insert some cliched, but true, adages here about putting my foot in my mouth, or about pots and kettles and how they’re both black).  I was wrong.  And aside from the obvious “See, it serves you right for gossiping about someone!!”  it made me feel very small.  I was judging the situation, and the person, unfairly.  I was making assumptions.  Funny how we have to learn the same lesson over and over and over again until we get it.   This is basic stuff here, not rocket science.  Even the kids know what happens when you ASSume.

But I learned my lesson (um, again) and maybe it’ll actually stick this time.

This you know, my beloved brethren. But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger ~ James 1:19

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October 13, 2011 · 8:23 AM

Plank Pullin’: Letting Go

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.

Spencer has an exceptional memory.  He’s the one to ask if you ever forget a name or a place, and he’s the one to have remind you that you need to stop for milk on the way home from basketball.  He remembers everything.  The downside to such a memory is that… well, he remembers everything.  It’s not unusual for him to get freshly stressed out over something that happened two years ago, or still carry hurt feelings over something that happened when he was just a little kid.   Something will come up in conversation, it’ll remind him, and I’ll see those shoulders slump.  I’ll often find myself telling him,

“You have to find a way to let it go.”

Sage advice, to be sure, except…. I do the exact same thing.  I always have. When I’m at up at 2 AM for my nightly date with Tivo, it’s rarely current things I’m stressed about, but things that should be long in the past.  Things that for better or worse keep showing up in my subconscious, like an old worn out cassette tape playing over and over and over.   Old fights, old struggles, old stresses.   Hurtful things that have been said to me or done to me…or hurtful things that I have done.  A couple of days ago, I remembered someone I went to school with, and who in fact took me to my Junior prom.   We were good friends at one point, but he moved to a different school, and we ended up losing touch.   For whatever reason (I don’t know that I had one) he wasn’t invited to my wedding.  I heard through mutual friends that he was hurt about that, and the memory still makes me feel terrible.  18 years later.

It’s even worse now that I’m a parent, because added to my nightly playlist are all the times that the kids were hurt, or embarrassed, or disappointed as well.  Everett and the time he worked so hard to memorize all his lines of a play, only to have the director suddenly cancel the whole production at the last minute.   Spencer and the last time he was made fun of for his speech.  Paxton and the time he admitted something he wasn’t proud of, and cried so hard I didn’t think he’d ever stop.

I don’t know why I do it.  It’s not like I sit there and think, “Okay, what uncomfortable memories from the past can I dwell on tonight?”  I don’t.  But sometimes I just close my eyes, and there they are.   And it’s not a matter of not forgiving either.  I’ve been told in the past that I hold a grudge, but I honestly don’t believe I do.  I’m good at forgiving…. just really, really bad at forgetting.

Like Spencer, I just need to find a way to let it go.  Something that, like most planks, is of course always much easier said than done.



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October 5, 2011 · 9:30 PM

Plank Pullin’: The one where I’m fine

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.

This week’s Plank Pullin’ post isn’t really a plank.  It’s a …. I don’t know what it is exactly, other than a big heaping scoop of reality.  It’s hard to write about though, so I’m totally counting it as a plank.

Do you watch the show Friends?  I’m of the opinion that Friends was one of the greatest TV shows of our generation.  Part of its genius was its ability to get me to relate in some integral way to each of the very different members of the ensemble cast.  Monica with all her neurosis; Phoebe with her free-spirited, hippy ways;  Joey with his love of food…

Well, I could go on, but I’d fear I’d forget my point.  So Ross.  What I love about Ross – besides his incessant need to correct everyone’s grammar – is that he’s this absolutely intelligent man who still sort of bumbles through life getting into one weird predicament after another.  He’s also a huge geek, to an almost embarrassing degree, but rather than running from it he embraces it.  In the episode I’m thinking of tonight, he walks in on Joey and Rachel kissing, and of course it devastates him because Joey’s one of his best friends, and he’s still in love with Rachel (seriously, if you haven’t watched it, you’re missing out)  They keep asking him if he’s okay, and he keeps insisting he’s “fine”, when he’s very clearly NOT fine.   It’s at once hysterical and painful, and his level of “fine” just increases as the episode plays out.

Here, watch a great clip of the highlights on YouTube.

I have been Ross lately, except it’s not as funny in real life as it is in a sitcom.  No, I didn’t walk in on my best friend kissing the girl I loved – although, wow, this would be an entirely different blog if I had, wouldn’t it? – but I’ve been busily playing “fine” the past several weeks, when everything around me is screaming, “You are SO. NOT. FINE.”   With very few exceptions, my whole life I’ve always tried to keep pushing through the muck when I’m feeling depressed or stressed out.  “Keep pushing, keep pushing”, I’ll tell myself, “and eventually you’ll get clear”.    But it never works that way.  I push and I push, and eventually it all catches up to me.  I end up overwhelmed, exhausted, and uninspired.  So deluged by the vast amount of “to-do’s” on my list that I can’t bring myself to do anything.   Not sleeping well, not eating right, and just slogging away as though I’m under water.

Oh, but I’m fine.

And then I wake up one day and I realize that it’s been two weeks since I’ve had the slightest desire to leave the house, or see a friend, or be in any way social at all.  I realize that I’m having a disproportionately difficult time dealing with people in general.  I realize that I’m thinking about going back to bed from the time I get up, but I know that it won’t be restful because I won’t be sleeping anyway.  I realize that I’m not taking much pleasure from the things that I usually enjoy, and I realize that I’m just very, very, very tired.

And I finally admit it to myself :  Crap.  I’m not fine.

The silver lining? (In what has turned into a rather depressing post.   Sorry about that)  Once I admit it, I can immediately start taking the steps to turn it around,  to take care of myself, to work on once again getting to a place where things aren’t just “fine”, but great.   Now is the time to be excited about life again, to be grateful for each new day, to appreciate all the little things.   And life is filled with SO MANY wonderful little things!

Today was a good day.  I spent a long time coloring with the girl in her new Dora coloring book.  I walked with all four kids around the block (the first time it’s been cool enough to do so in a LONG time).  I watched them grinning from ear to ear as they whizzed down the hill on their scooters, and it made my heart smile.  I drew on the driveway with chalk.  I vacuumed and folded laundry and mailed something special to a good friend.

And it was all better than fine.

Philippians 4:13- NAS
I can do all things through Him who strengthens me

 


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September 22, 2011 · 7:17 AM

Plank Pullin’: The benefit of the doubt

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.

I feel I have a pretty good handle on being patient and gracious when it comes to interacting with children. It doesn’t generally rattle me when a child is behaving “badly.” It’s easy for me to keep my perspective, to tell myself that there is an underlying reason for their actions, that they’re behaving the way they are because they’re trying to communicate. That they’re tired. That they’re hungry. That they’re frustrated. That they’ve had a bad day. That they honestly don’t know any better. Yes, it’s easy for me to give them the benefit of the doubt.

But other MOTHERS behaving badly? Not so much with the patience. I was recently around a group of mothers and found myself somewhat… appalled… at the way they were collectively talking to their children, and talking about their children. They were being so rude and condescending; so disrespectful of their kids’ feelings (kids who, I might add, were not doing anything wrong) There were spankings threatened, and “Too bads” spat out. It made me angry, and it made me frustrated. How can they talk to their children like that? I did not say anything at the time, but if I’d voiced one of the conversations in my head, it likely wouldn’t have been very loving.

I think I’ve justified this kind of reaction in my mind by telling myself, “It’s just because I’m so passionate about treating children kindly.” (Because I am) “It’s just because I so badly want to advocate for children’s rights”. (Because I do) But… shouldn’t that make me want to be MORE patient with these mothers, not less? Shouldn’t that make me want to have more compassion, and more understanding, and more kindness? Shouldn’t it make me want to give those mothers at least the same amount of the benefit of the doubt that I so freely give to children?

I have no idea where another parent is coming from. I don’t know if they’re just parenting their children the way they themselves were parented, because it’s the only way they know. I don’t know if they are simply reacting to a bad set of circumstances in their own lives, and are coping the best they can. I don’t know if they possibly desperately want to change things… but just don’t know that there’s another way. I don’t know if they have the tools, and the support, and the resources they need to help them break the cycle.

What I do know (though I’ve been painfully slow to realize it) is that I can’t even BEGIN to tell other parents about having more compassion towards their children unless I first show it to them.

You must be the change you wish to see in the world. ~Gandhi

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September 15, 2011 · 6:00 AM

Plank Pullin: The Money Edition

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It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.

A few of you know this already, but I also keep a (often neglected) blog about money, specifically about our journey in paying off our debt.   You can read the entire story there, but in the interest in saving time:  We married young, and had part-time or low paying jobs for quite a long period of time.  Racked up a whole bunch of debt.  Worked really hard to pay it all off, and moved to Arizona debt free.  Somehow (thanks in large part to a crashing real estate market and a failed “investment” house that we’re still living in), we racked up some debt again – although thankfully not nearly in the scale we’d been under a decade ago.  Having debt of any sort is a terrible and suffocating feeling, one I can’t wait to be free of.  While we’re finally in a position where we’re making a very comfortable income, we are often living as if we make almost no money at all, so focused we are on putting everything extra towards our debt.

You could say money and finances are big interests of mine, but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate.  I think I’m knowledgeable about it, having read just about every book, article, and website on the subject, but…. I still worry about money, I stress about money, I am WEIRD about money.  How am I defining ‘weird’, you ask?  Here’s an example:

A couple of weeks ago, we joined some friends for a morning outdoor event.  It was early, and we’d been in a rush, so I hadn’t gotten to have my daily cup of coffee.  I lamented to my friend about my missing liquid energy (I’m a much more likeable person when I’ve been fully caffeinated) and she said, “Oh there’s a Starbucks right down the street.”  And in the 2.4 seconds that it took me to tell her, “That’s okay, I’ll just wait till I get home” I had a fiery, indignant, unspoken internal dialogue that went something like this:

“Starbucks??  You think I can just afford to be going to Starbucks all willy-nilly?  Do you have any idea how much Starbucks costs?  Must be nice to have money to be going to Starbucks all the time.  Must be nice to have money to throw away.”

Totally irrational right??  I don’t know why I do it.   She was trying to be helpful.  And the ironic thing is that I absolutely could have afforded to get a coffee at Starbucks (I almost never go though, because I really do think it’s ridiculously expensive for coffee), but I didn’t, just on general principle.  We also very rarely buy bottled water,or eat at nice restaurants or any kind of restaurants, or buy new clothes, or get professional haircuts or manicures or pedicures or eyebrow waxings (or pluckings or threading or whatever is popular now)  I have a very, very hard time spending money on things that aren’t necessities.

Worse than that though, is that I find myself getting judgmental, even angry, towards people who are irresponsible with money.  Interestingly, it’s not so much strangers that I have a problem with…. if I see some random person spending jillions of dollars on something excessive, it’s easy for me to imagine that (likely or not) they live an all-cash lifestyle, have no debt, and also give jillions of dollars to charity.  No, where I have a problem is with the people who’ve made me privy to their financial information for whatever reason, and continue to make bad choices.  I really don’t like knowing that someone is behind on their Visa bill or their electric bill or their rent… and is meanwhile eating out, going to the movies, and buying fancy new gadgets.   One part of me tells me to chill out, that it’s absolutely none of my business.  The other part says that it very well IS my business, as it’s partly because of that kind of irresponsible spending that the housing market has done what it has, and the reason that we are so unbelievably upside down in our own mortgage (which, by the way, we faithfully pay on time every single month)  Either way, the feeling is unpleasant and all-around icky, and I’d really like to stop it. 

So consider another plank pulled.  And help a girl out by not mentioning your overdraft fees and your new iPhone in the same sentence. 

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August 25, 2011 · 8:29 PM

Plank Pullin’: I’m sick. And I’m bad at it.

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.

I’m not sick very often (weird, random ER visits aside), and when I feel myself getting sick, I can generally fight it off with a little extra Vitamin C and a few more hours of extra sleep. I don’t like to let things slow me down, and I sort of pride myself on plowing through. When the kids are sick – also not very often, but it happens – I immediately go into ultra nurturing Supermom mode. When husband is sick, I lovingly take his temperature and bring him Tylenol and tea and remote control.

But when it’s me? I have been fighting something off for an entire month now. First it was a sore throat, then the fatigue, then the cough. Oh the cough!!! It goes away for a few days, then comes back with a vengeance. Today came a migraine that left me nauseous and shaky. And it makes me…. mad almost. I don’t like being sick. It makes me grumpy. And frustrated. And scattered. And I’m well aware of the fact that if I perhaps gave myself the same patience and care that I give my kids when they are sick, that I’d get well a whole lot sooner (a realization that makes me even more grumpy and frustrated and scattered.)

I know I don’t need a doctor… my gut tells me it’s nothing more than a lingering virus. But yuck. Have I mentioned that I’m grumpy and frustrated and scattered? Tonight I’m going to bed early, and tomorrow I’m going to start taking care of myself as well as I’d take care of the kids.

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August 18, 2011 · 5:16 PM

Plank Pullin’: It’s not you, it’s me…

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style. 

I have a smart phone. I don’t have an iPhone (I tend to be anti-Apple in general). I have an Android, and I love it. I don’t actually need a smart phone, but it’s one of my very few splurges, and I do like to be able to read my emails, check my Facebook, have access to my Googlemaps, etc etc when I’m on the go.

The one condition – which I put on myself – was that when I got a smart phone, I wouldn’t become one of “those” people. The people who choose their phone over actual interactions with the people around them. The people who get so wrapped up in their phones that they are being rude to the waitress who’s just trying to give them the daily specials, that they are ignoring their kids who only want a minute of their time, that they are missing out on being present for anything because their relationship with their phone comes first.

I vowed I would never become one of those people, and I haven’t. I use my phone, I enjoy my phone… but never at the expense of real-life interactions. I use it, and put it away, sometimes not to look at it again for several hours. And it’s oh so easy for me to look down my nose at those attached-at-the-hip smart phone users. Pssssh, I’m not so glad I’m not like that with my phone.

But. Um. I also have a laptop.

My laptop is open all day.  Every day. I am on it – off and on – all day.  Every day.  And it doesn’t matter what I logged on to do, whether it’s respond to an email or look something up or work on a blog post….. I always end up at the same darn place……..

A word about Facebook, if I may:

I think it’s invaluable.  I do.  Especially for someone like me, who (partly by design and partly by circumstance) has very, very few “real life” friends who really GET me.   Someone like me, whose default mode of operation is to withdraw from everyone when I’m feeling off.  Someone like me who  – thanks in large part to sites like Facebook – has found the importance of a tribe, and the importance of meaningful interactions with other people.   Through mediums like Facebook, I have been supported, uplifted, and challenged.  I am continually meeting interesting people and reading thought-provoking things.   Especially now that I’ve brought my blog to Facebook, I am often overwhelmed with gratitude for all the amazing people that it’s allowing me to come in contact with. 

But (and seriously, grab this plank with me.  It’s a big one)  It is a huge distraction for me.  Huge.  I spend a lot of time – not long periods of time, but three minute here and ten minutes there, that ADD UP – that could be much better spent.  And it’s not all sunlight and roses either.  Much of it is, if I’m being honest, time-wasting drivel.  For every good article, interesting blog post, and enlightening video is an inane and off-color Obama joke.  Or another person re-posting the same, “99% of you won’t repost this” status update.  Or a request for boards to build your barn, or money to fund your mafia, or coins to unlock your secret wonders of the universe. (Disclaimer:  I have nothing against games, or the people who play them)  It’s all just a reminder that, despite my best intentions, I have become one of those people.  It just wasn’t with my phone. 

I know a lot of people leave Facebook for those very reasons.  I have done it myself for brief periods of time.  I don’t think that’s the answer (for me) though, because it would be like the proverbial “throwing the baby out with the bath water.”  I do think that there’s a lot of good to be had from Facebook, to be sure.  But there’s a negative too.  I need to tip the scale back to the positive, cut back – waay back – on letting myself get sucked into the drivel, and let the negative fall off the other side. 

And so Facebook, I’m not breaking up with you. But I do think it’s time we start seeing other people.



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August 11, 2011 · 7:29 AM

Plank Pullin’: I’m a Mess

It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.

Sometimes people ask me for advice.

I like giving advice when I’m asked. There’s just something… satisfying… something that feels *right* about being able to look at a situation from the outside, see it clearly, and be able to say, “This is what I see. This is what I think. This is what I’ve experienced.” To believe even for a second that something you said HELPED someone, that something you said MATTERED to someone.

Now, keep in mind that I have no idea if I actually give good advice. Most of the time I don’t hear back from the person asking, so for all I know they could be out there thinking, “This chica is waaay off her rocker.” (That’s a direct quote from my all-time favorite piece of “fan” mail, and the one that handed me the biggest laugh.) But I do get asked from time to time, and I do enjoy giving it.

The scary thing is:

I am the worst person EVER to be giving anyone advice. I’m sort of a mess.

I never sleep. I’m addicted to caffeine. I’ve had ongoing issues with both anxiety and depression. My husband is always on standby to talk me down from whatever my current freak-out may be, whether it’s the anticipation of seeing people that I find stressful, or how we’re going to be able to afford t-ball registration, or simply our current state of housekeeping. And inside my head? Have you ever seen a movie where someone is on some sort of drug trip and there are all these rapid-fire flashes of different thoughts and images and movement, one right after the other? That’s what it’s like to be inside my head (except I don’t do drugs, aside from the aforementioned caffeine.) And the fact is, I’m not drawn to things like yoga and meditation and peaceful parenting because I’m a naturally calm person….. but because I’m not.

With the exception of unschooling and parenting (and by extension this blog, where I write about unschooling and parenting), I have no earthly clue what I want to do when I grow up. It’s not that I have no ideas; it’s that I have oh so many ideas. And because I have a tendency to both jump headlong into whatever interests me at the moment AND get bored quickly before I move on to something else, my house is a mess too. My desk is stacked with books I’ve yet to read, projects I’ve yet to finish, and the coursework I’m supposed to be studying to take my personal trainer certification test. My closets are filled with discarded lip balm and craft supplies. There is a huge box containing over 100 DVDs in my living room, because I suddenly decided I really needed to start buying and selling them on Ebay again. I’m still unsure if I’m going to participate in NanoWriMo again this November, or write an e-book (or three), or sign up for yoga teacher training, or enroll to finish my bachelors in Holistic Health. I Just. Don’t. Know.

And the thing is, if it were any of my kids with this confusion, I’d answer them confidently and sincerely with reassurance:

You don’t have to worry. It’ll all work out. Take each day as it comes. The beauty isn’t in the figuring it all out (and no one really figures it all out anyway) but in the journey.

I absolutely believe all of the above, and some days, I even think I have a handle on it. But most other days, well, I’m still a mess.



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August 4, 2011 · 6:30 AM

Plank Pullin’: The one where I feel judged

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It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style. 

Let me start with a general confession:

People bug me.

I mean, I’m as personable and easy to get along with as the next guy when everyone’s being nice and reasonable and friendly… and I truly enjoy interacting with others who are happy and open-minded and interesting.  But.  I am an introvert through and through, and I get “peopled out” very easily.  Unfortunately, the internet (which is, of course, an invaluable source of those happy and open-minded and interesting people I do like talking to) also provides a veritable and unending stream of frustration in the form of the rude, the arrogant, and lately, the judgmental.

I have felt a lot of judgment lately…. not judgment aimed at me specifically, but aimed towards people like me:  those of the “more Jesus, less religion” ilk.  People like me who truly love God, but who, for one reason or another have rejected the traditional path of organized religion.  Those who have found freedom in the relationship, even (or especially) outside of church, and those who have eschewed a lifestyle built on rules.

It has been following me – and frustrating me – all week.  First was the conversation I happened on about unschooling.  Then it was parenting. Then it was what kind of statuses are inappropriate to post on Facebook. Then it was clothing.  Then it was television. Then it was the proper way to talk to God.  Then it was the proper way to talk ABOUT God.  Then it was the proper kind of church to go to.  “People who know and love God would not xyz.  The bible is clear that we’re commanded to xyz.  You are not a good Christian woman if you xyz.”  Is it any wonder that when, a few days ago, a non-Christian friend bemoaned how judgmental she found Christians, I could do nothing but commiserate?

I don’t fit into a box, Christian or otherwise.

I don’t go to church regularly.
I unschool.
I love tattoos.
I put weird colors in my hair.
I sometimes laugh at inappropriate things.
I sometimes SAY inappropriate things.

…..

And I know that God loves me anyway.

I don’t like feeling judged. But – and this is the part where I finally get around to pulling my plank – my feeling frustrated or angry towards the ones doing it is really no different than the judgment itself. If I’m all indignantly yelling, “How DARE she judge me?” aren’t I judging as well? And how about that… it doesn’t feel nice coming or going.

Whatever journey they are on is just that: theirs. And this one is mine. And I can ignore their existence love them and learn to sincerely wish them well, and rest assured in the peace that comes from knowing that nothing anyone else says can affect my own personal relationship with God.

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