Judge and Jury

It's been a summer of learning, eh.
Don't even get me started on how I was stretched and pulled trying to fit all the lessons of Zambia into this little head of mine.

But once stateside again, I returned to a place that I know better than the back of my hand, a place that I've ventured to for the past 22 summers(yup, since I was 6 months old), a place that I've grown to love and cherish: camp.

Surely a place so familiar couldn't possibly be a place of learning, right? FALSE!

God was kicking my butt this past week, let me tell you.

Blame it on overscheduling myself or being tired or stressed; whatever the case, I entered the week with a poor attitude.

After being frustrated with almost everyone by the first full day, I realized that most likely it wasn't everyone else with the problem, but yours truly. How's your PMA (positive mental attitude for my non-camp friends)? Yeah, mine was suffering.

During camp, I was reminded that I have crazy high, sometimes impossible standards for myself. The problem came about when I began not only applying these crazy high standards on myself, but on other people as well. Pride consumed me, and I began getting upset with people who didn't do their job my way; afterall, my way was the best well. Ginormous mistake? Most definitely.

After a serious consumption of humble pie and a series of apologies, I found myself struggling to speak the truth in love (Eph. 4:15). No, it wasn't right for me to hold others to an impossible standard, yet at the same time we're called to hold one another accountable. I spent the week (and then some) wrestling between finding balance in this. How do I hold my loved ones accountable without judging them? How can I be lovingly truthful?

Praise God that He is patient with me as I seek to follow His lead. Praise Him for the countless times that He's forgiven me when I mess up, turning away from Him to do my own thing.

God is good. All the time.