21: “Stop. Hatin’s bad.”

Alright…I have a confession. 

I did it.

It was me.

Remember when you saw that tan Mazda SUV today and the girl inside was rocking out to blaring Christmas music? 

::ugh:: It was me.

I feel so much better now.

I couldn’t help myself. It’s really not my fault at all. You see…what had happened was that I’m still driving my Nana’s car and the last time my grandparents took it they cleaned it out and my Hanson Christmas cd was left in the bottom nook of the console, just chillin’. I left it there for over six months unscathed!

I swear I did.

(And yes, don’t think I didn’t notice that eyebrow pop up when I said Hanson. I’m not ashamed. My Christmas cd collection includes everything from Hanson to Andrea Bocelli. What can I say? I’m random and eclectic. Oh, and I just so happen to LOVE Christmas music.)

Today I was driving my Friday drive that makes me happy and thought, “is there anything that could possibly make this better?”

Isaac, Taylor, and Zac called out my name in a trio harmony. So I took the plunge. I only listened to it once and skipped two songs when they skipped (dumb cds) so technically it’s like it doesn’t even count, right?

No? …whatever.

You’re judging. Stop. It’s not nice.

I was judging someone yesterday…until I sat down and listened to their story for an hour and a half. Have you ever noticed that? Noticed how people are really easy to categorize, judge, and pick apart until you hear their story? 

Well except, of course, in this case because I feel you taking no sympathy with me and your whole “no-Christmas-music-until-after-Thanksgiving” thing. That’s fine. Generally speaking though, it’s true.

You judge the person who doesn’t have a home assuming they probably drink too much.

You judge the person who pulls out in front of you cutting you off because they’re a complete moron, obviously.

You judge the man next to you who’s body is literally overflowing into your seat and you assume he has eaten too many Big Macs. 

You judge the white, the black, the Hispanic, the Asian, the young, the elderly, the divorced, the poor, the rich, the handsome, the devilishly attractive, the disabled, the homeless, the buff, the idiot, the genius, the guy whose car you want, the girl whose life you want, you judge.

I don’t know who you judge, but I can almost guarantee you do it. It makes us feel better about ourselves in some weird way. Assuming the worst about someone so you don’t have to care.

The problem: Everyone has a story. Everyone is a child a God. Everyone is cherished by God. Everyone has been found worthy by God. Everyone has been made in the image of God. 

Don’t judge…seek a story instead.