Who am I to Judge?


Over the next few days, I hope to reflect on Thanksgiving.  How well do I actually give thanks for the many blessings in my life?  And how well do I share those blessings with others?

Yesterday I drove to the grocery store to get some supplies for brining the Thanksgiving turkey.  On my way, I stopped behind two cars at a red light.  When I looked ahead I saw a dirty, disheveled middle aged woman walking in my direction with a large plastic cup in her hand.  As she walked alongside the cars in front of me, she tipped the cup toward them, begging for change.  The drivers of the cars in front of me never turned their heads toward her, they seemed to consciously ignore her.

Before she got to me, the light changed to green and I pulled into the parking lot.  For a fleeting moment, I thought that I should walk across the parking lot and give the woman some money.  But then I thought, hey, I’m busy right now.  If she’s still there when I’m finished shopping, I’ll give her whatever I have left in my wallet.  I went into the store.

When I checked out and got to my vehicle, the woman was gone.

Ouch. God had prompted me to help her, but I had decided that my errand was more important.  I had figured that God would make her wait if I was meant to give her my help. Anyway, wasn’t she most likely a drug addict or a drunk who would just take the money and feed her habit?

As I sat there with my key in my hand, it hit me.

Who am I to judge?

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