2008 Woodie Awards
Judge yourself before you judge others
By: April Wynn
Issue date: 11/15/06 Section: Opinion
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April Wynn
Staff Writer
This Sunday, unlike a regular Sunday when I'm scrambling to get to church on time, I was at church five minutes early sitting with my dad. Our family sits on the end of the row because my mom is in the choir and does not want to have to crawl over people once the preaching begins. This older man and his son started down our row and my dad asked, "How are you doing this Sunday?" The older gentleman replied, "Well, I'm here. I almost didn't make it." They laughed and as the man sat down the worship team began to sing.
I didn't really think of the man, but he caught my attention during worship. When he made the comment about, "Well I'm here," to me he was saying, "He was here, wasn't he? That's good enough, right?" I passed him off, as though he didn't want to be in God's house. I glanced over and he was singing along to the worship song. This led me to watch him more and more because he wasn't just there as he had stated earlier. He was worshipping God too, which was something I hadn't expected in my preconceived idea of him.
I had judged him and I realized how wrong I was. Not only had I judged him based on his attitude when he sat down, but I had also judged him on his appearance from the moment he walked in with his blue jeans, blue and black plaid shirt, rose tinted glasses and white combed-over hair because it was not typical "church clothes."
When the song "Cry Out to Jesus" came on, he sat down. I thought to myself, "Well I right then, huh?" I continued to sing and happened to look at him. He was trying not to let anyone see that he was crying.
My heart melted, and I realized that he was crying out to Jesus in his own way and how wrong I was for being so judgmental. When our pastor said, "Lift up your hand if you have a need or want to be touched by God," the man raised his hand. As prayer was lifted up, our pastor asked for those who hadn't raised our hands to intercede for those who needed prayer. God immediately spoke to me, and I prayed for the man.
Staff Writer
This Sunday, unlike a regular Sunday when I'm scrambling to get to church on time, I was at church five minutes early sitting with my dad. Our family sits on the end of the row because my mom is in the choir and does not want to have to crawl over people once the preaching begins. This older man and his son started down our row and my dad asked, "How are you doing this Sunday?" The older gentleman replied, "Well, I'm here. I almost didn't make it." They laughed and as the man sat down the worship team began to sing.
I didn't really think of the man, but he caught my attention during worship. When he made the comment about, "Well I'm here," to me he was saying, "He was here, wasn't he? That's good enough, right?" I passed him off, as though he didn't want to be in God's house. I glanced over and he was singing along to the worship song. This led me to watch him more and more because he wasn't just there as he had stated earlier. He was worshipping God too, which was something I hadn't expected in my preconceived idea of him.
I had judged him and I realized how wrong I was. Not only had I judged him based on his attitude when he sat down, but I had also judged him on his appearance from the moment he walked in with his blue jeans, blue and black plaid shirt, rose tinted glasses and white combed-over hair because it was not typical "church clothes."
When the song "Cry Out to Jesus" came on, he sat down. I thought to myself, "Well I right then, huh?" I continued to sing and happened to look at him. He was trying not to let anyone see that he was crying.
My heart melted, and I realized that he was crying out to Jesus in his own way and how wrong I was for being so judgmental. When our pastor said, "Lift up your hand if you have a need or want to be touched by God," the man raised his hand. As prayer was lifted up, our pastor asked for those who hadn't raised our hands to intercede for those who needed prayer. God immediately spoke to me, and I prayed for the man.
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