Hammer on Anvil '

My husband and I just returned from a much-needed week away in the Phoenix area. It was a blessed time of relaxation and enjoying treasured family relationships.

Our flight back to Springfield left at 7:25 in the morning. As the flight attendant began her spiel about emergency exits and the like, I was a bit taken aback when she said they would be serving alcoholic beverages. Excuse me? Alcoholic beverages at 7:30 in the morning? I could understand if it were an evening flight, but should it even be legal to offer alcohol at that hour of the morning? I was pretty sure nobody would take her up on that offer, but I was wrong.

The man across the aisle from us bought a can of beer. And it must've been one whopper of a beer, at $7 a can! Before the flight was over, he had ordered another beer.

Two beers consumed before the hour of 10 a.m. My heart ached for this man, and I wondered what his life must be like. I remember all too well sitting at the breakfast table with my father when I was a teenager. His unusually tall glass of orange juice was actually vodka, with the juice added for color. He thought he was fooling us, but he wasn't. On one occasion when I angrily hurled a bottle of his booze across a field, he threatened to wring my neck.

I confess that I used to view addicts with contempt. In times past, I would've looked at that man across the aisle in the airplane and despised him in my heart. I was one of those "holier than thou" Christians who had a list of "pet sins" that I was sure God thought were much worse than any of MY sins. But when He showed me a healthy dose of the wickedness in my own heart, I began to let Him teach me about compassion. About loving "the least of these." About not being quick to condemn just because maybe I hadn't fallen prey to a particular sin myself.

My long-suffering husband and I have been through some very turbulent waters in our nearly 35 years of marriage. When we share our story of how God has redeemed our marriage, sometimes the first thing people think is, "Oh...surely that must have happened before you knew the Lord." Wrong.

It drives me crazy that when you share something so wonderfully redemptive, people can't simply rejoice with you. They have to know immediately if you were really a Christian when you:

• had an abortion, or
• had an affair, or 
• used an illegal substance, or 
• viewed pornography, or 
• dabbled in homosexuality, or
• ________________ (fill in the blank)

What is it with that? Do people who ask this question really think that Christians don't sin?

I am so grateful for biblical accounts of David and Samson and Jonah and Peter and many others who blew it big-time. It is obvious when I read about these men that, yes, it is possible to be even "a man after God's own heart" and yet allow sin to lure you away. Peter walked with Jesus for three years, and yet denied Him in His hour of need because he allowed fear to grip his heart.

Please, my friends, before you quickly look down your nose at someone who has committed a sin that you can't imagine committing yourself, remember that very likely you have committed sins that the other person hasn't. Don't condemn a brother's homosexuality and then gossip about him to everyone you meet. Don't be critical of a sister's addiction to alcohol and then eat yourself into a model of American obesity. Don't be properly horrified to learn someone has abortion in their past, while you privately view pornography because "you're not hurting anyone."

It is time for us to be real about the ugliness in our own hearts, dear ones. If you have become hardened about the shortcomings of others, ask God to circumcise your heart. Ask Him to allow you to see others through His eyes. Ask Him to show you how far short YOU fall, and be repentant. Remember Jesus' wise words to the accusers of the woman caught in adultery: "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone."