Put Down Your Gun

The only army that shoots its wounded is the Christian army. 

I found this quote today and for the last hour it's been churning in my heart. I've been learning that, if I really quiet my heart and listen, God speaks in some not-so-subtle ways. The above sentence pierced my heart because today I shot one of the wounded. This is how my mind excused it:

"they should have known better!"

"they deserved it! look how they live their life!"

"i'm glad they got what was coming to them, finally!"

"they needed to learn that life isn't without consequences!"

What a Christ like attitude I have. I should be the last to pull the trigger. I still remember piercing words that I heard in the months after a particularly trying time the summer I turned 16. They can still bring tears to my eyes. I definitely haven't forgotten the comments made to my when I got pregnant at 18. How did I become so self righteous? 

Apparently I lack short term memory. It was only a few weeks ago that I was overcome with anxiety and fear when I was diagnosed with bipolar. In my heart I knew that many Christians in my own life wouldn't be accepting. They would reject the secular doctor I was seeing, taking medicine would certainly be out of the question. I must be doing something wrong to have a mental illness (even now I get a knot of anxiety just typing that). I'm not praying enough, not going to church enough, not being good enough, not reading my bible enough. 

JUST STOP! 

Where is Jesus? I don't remember him in combat boots carrying a gun. I remember him casting out demons, showing compassion to prostitutes, and thieves. Why do we feel the need to condemn our brothers and sisters, even if they did "get themselves" into trouble? What does it matter? If they're in trouble and need help, how they got there is irrelevant, isn't it? You know what's even worse? Trying to sweep problems or problematic individuals under the rug. Where do all those people go who don't fit into your pretty little "christian" box? 

but the greatest of these is 

LOVE

When did I forget that? Somewhere between criticism and judgement? Have I forgotten that judgement isn't my job? Have I been that conditioned to criticize? Where did this come from? This sickening need to point the finger? To look at the speck in our brother's eye before we pull the log out of our own? 

I believe we should be kneeling down, humbling ourselves as servants to the hurting and brokenhearted. Stop casting judgement and blame and listen. Rejecting the instinct to blame, and embracing love. Learning compassion, and how to effectively reach out to the wounded. Acknowledge the hurt that they feel with genuine kindness, and softening our hearts that have become hardened. 

My challenge to myself and anyone reading this:

Put down your gun.