Someday I hope to be rid of the insidious disease

Someday I hope to be rid of the insidious disease that often resurfaces just when I think I am cured.  Most folks would never know I am ill.  There are few outward signs.  But just when I begin to feel fully alive and healthy, it surfaces like a stealth bomber and overtakes me.  The disease?  Judgmentalism.
 
The problem with this disease is that it sometimes comes disguised as misassumption.  For example, one school year, I once found myself musing about a student's hands.  They always seemed to be covered in grime, which seeped under his fingernails.  His pants were ripped at the knees, and he often came to class sweaty and disheveled.  Over the course of weeks, I began to create an elaborate interpretation of his life and tried to discern ways I could help him overcome his “circumstances”, all without ever asking him the reason for his condition.
 
Then one day he approached me before lunch and asked if I would come and see him dance on the playground. When the bell rang, I slipped out to the playground and found him next to the basketball courts standing by himself.  When he saw me, he began a solitary break dance performance, his only musical accompaniment coming from inside his head.

 I watched transfixed as he placed his hands on the unwashed asphalt to execute intricate spins and moves, often using his knees to ground his performance.  He radiated bliss. As I watched, I knew that in his head, he did not dance for his teacher; he danced for a cheering throng surrounding a polished stage where the spotlight shown for him and him alone. His hands and his knees had been sacrificed for beauty, and in that moment, I realized that my misassumptions had painted a picture of poverty where his dancing gifts had created the richness of the Sistine Chapel.
 
However, leaving you with only that picture would not give you a true sense of the depth of my disease, because the truth is, misassumption is a very minor symptom of Judgmentalism.  Misassumption can be rationalized away, but Judgmentalism has no defense.    Gratefully, we rarely notice it in each other, because unless it is voiced, it is invisible to all except the mind of the judge.
 
Case in point: My husband and I recently took my mom to a hamburger joint in a small town.  As we waited for our food, I noticed a woman enter and approach the counter.  When I say "noticed", what I mean to convey is a rigid examination down to the smallest detail accompanied by a running negative commentary.  Her shiny, sequin covered mini skirt would have looked trashy on a teenager, and she seemed to be a woman in her late forties sporting a deep fake tan.  The wedge heeled sandals revealed hooker red toenail polish, and when she sat at a table across from me, I saw a skin tight tank top that left nothing to the imagination and hands that were draped in a collection of silver rings.  Everything about her screamed, "Look at me!" and as I sat there judging her, I felt justified in staring at her and evaluating every aspect of her life.
 
And then I heard a voice ---the gentle, caring, quiet voice of the Holy Spirit--- who spoke to me in the deep recesses of my heart, "You were a much bigger mess when I met you."  I actually laughed out loud.  It was true. 
 
The gift of that moment was simple and profound for me.  A mirror held up by a loving God reminded me that my own reflection deserved as much judgment as the woman across the room, and yet He had embraced me and loved me without reservation and without condemnation.
 
I stared at her again, but this time, I tried to use my new found vision.  I prayed silently for her to feel blessed by this day...to feel unconditional love from every glance, and hopefully first and foremost, from mine.
 
Someday, I will be rid of this disease, but only in the next life, I think.  But until then, I will use what is becoming my new go-to medicine when I feel the disease returning.  I remind myself again and again what I know to be true:  I was a much bigger mess when He met me, and He loved me anyway.