humble pie

So, God is still working on me (thankfully!).

I'm going to tell you two stories. Here's the first:

Several weeks ago, Jason and I were on a walk. We love to have real conversations on our walks, as that is sometimes the only time we have to share life without a lot of distractions. Most of the time we have good conversation, although there are times when we talk about not much of anything...the pretty bushes in someone's yard, the dog poo on the sidewalk, the overgrown grass in someone else's yard.

Wait.

Stop there.

This one particular day, we noticed a house with overgrown grass. Like, overgrown enough to make us wonder if anyone even lived there. But, there was a car in the driveway, so someone must live there. Seriously, (now this is where I have thoughts I'm not proud of) why would anyone let their grass get like that? Even if you're busy, you would take some time to take care of your yard. (I have seen someone cut the yard since then...)

End of first story.

Several months ago towards the end of the school year, a girl on Ky's track team had a stroke(?) on the track and was hospitalized in a coma. The school had a fundraiser for her family, so flyers were sent out and posters were put up. Then, school released for the summer, so I hadn't really heard much about her since.

Until last week.

Ky came home and asked me if I remembered the girl that was in a coma. I said, "absolutely, what ever happened to her?"

"She died yesterday," Ky said. "She was the nicest girl at my bus stop, Mom." "She was so happy at track practice. A great girl."

I didn't realize she had lived near us. End of second story.

Connecting it yet?

On the way to get the kids the other day, I passed that house with the tall grass and saw a bunch cars parked out in front of it. One of the cars had a rectangular orange sticker on its windshield that said Funeral on it. This is where you can connect the two stories.

Yep. The owners of that house that I was so quick to judge? That was her parents' home. For the past several months, her parents struggled to spend every moment they could with her while supporting the rest of the family and trying to keep up with the medical bills. Yep. My yard would look the same if my daughter were in the hospital in a coma. Yep. Lord I get it. I shouldn't judge. I don't know the whole story, and I rarely ever do.

I'm not proud that I had those thoughts of judgment pass through my head. I really feel like a jerk. But, I'll learn from it, I guess. Hopefully I'll remember the "Tall Grass House" when I feel like I'm worthy enough to judge someone else. (Which, I might add, I will NEVER be worthy enough to judge someone else, because I am not and I will never be God.)