This week, I watched a very cheesy video on Facebook.
It was one of those "I am lying in bed, trying to wake up, scrolling through Facebook, mindlessly watching the videos that pass by."
In these 3 minutes of getting my eyes adjusted, I literally have zero expectations.
So this video in particular started out talking about a wife who was sitting with her husband at the breakfast table: a seat that gave them a vantage point to see the neighbors' laundry out on the drying line in the front yard. The wife looks at the laundry for a second, and snootily tells her husband that those people should really get their act together and figure out how to get their clothes cleaner. She continued to note the fact that either they don't know how to scrub the clothes clean or their detergent is no good, because clearly they aren't doing something right. The clothes just looked so... yucky.
Day after day goes by, and the wife continues to nag them, from the comfort of her own kitchen table, as she just confirms that they must be some sort of "off" if they are that incapable of getting a simple load of laundry done well. She even mentioned to her husband that maybe she should go over there with her favorite detergent and a how-to lesson.
Another morning arrives and the wife sits down, expectant of the usual dirty load of laundry to be hanging out to dry. But this time, she sees a beautifully clean, sparkly white load of fresh laundry flapping away in the wind. She is more than surprised, she is excited! "Wow!" she exclaims to her husband, "I wonder if someone went over there and taught them before I got the chance?" and digressed with a smile.
Her quiet husband who, to this point had not added anything but a mumble under his breath to her comments thus far, stood up gracefully from the table and looked at his wife until she noticed his stare. She looks up and sees a face that reveals he has something on his mind.
"Dear," he starts, "I woke up very early this morning and went out to complete my chores. It seemed about time I gave the windows a nice cleaning, so that is what I did. I scrubbed the grime off of our own windows, where it seems like the only fault in this whole situation lies."
Wow, y'all. I do not know about you, but that hit me hard. This picture of having so much time and energy and desire to criticize others for any flaw we can find in them, and to do so long before we ever take a glance at our own flaws and work on those... It convicted me hard, and definitely by surprise, as I never really come to heart-aching epiphanies in the first 3 minutes of my day.
This is something I struggle with in many parts of my life, but I have especially noted it in myself and in others right now as the Olympics are in full swing.
It seems like every single time I log on to Facebook, Instagram, or read the New York Times, there is yet another article about this or that athlete and every tiny detail of their life that we, for whatever assumed reason, are in a position to attack. Maybe it is the way someone's hair looked during their competition, or the way an athlete postured their body on the Gold medal acceptance podium, or the new (less toned, firm, and perfect) body of a now retired athlete who is back to support their sport.
We are watching the best athletes, literally, in these sports. They have sacrificed endlessly to be where they are. They have put their bodies through hell and back to make it to Rio. They have lost time with family, friends, other hobbies all for the love of their sport. And beyond all of that, they are still human.
These athletes are just the same as any of us except they are way better than most of us will ever be at athletics. With that success, they get criticized for everything down to the way their cycling gear makes their butt look during competition. They are soaring to great heights and gleaming because of (and in spite of) the tough journey there, yet all we see is the lower valleys that make up a tiny fraction of that beautiful journey.
Who are we to call out those tiny things in these athletes? To bring to light the spec of dirt rather than praising the beauty? We go through our own lives begging for grace to cover our mistakes and our lapses in judgment because we understand how imperfect we are. Why aren't we serving up the same love and respect to these incredible humans that we are itching to have for ourselves?
Why don't we just take a little more time to wash our own windows before we point out the grime in everyone else's?
I am guilty of all of this, and say all of this from a point of conviction for it. I hope and pray for myself and for all of us that we think a second time before opening our own imperfect mouths about any of our Olympians for falling short of a perfection none of us are ever reaching on our own accord (Hebrews 10:14).
Grace and truth and a whole lot of love, y'all.