I’ve often heard that doctors and nurses make the worst patients and that teachers make the worst students. And now I can add another one to the list: editors (of which I am one) are often the last to see the errors in their own writing.
My livelihood is to use a microscopic approach when viewing the words of others. I watch for correct grammar, punctuation, and spelling, making corrections or suggestions where needed. (But please don’t call me a member of the “grammar police”; I despise that term. I do what I do not to point out everything that’s wrong but to make everything in the document right!)
Until it comes to my own writing, that is. I know what I mean to say, so my mind, eyes, heart—or whatever part of me it is that views my own writing—puts the words into place, even when they’re not really there. Here’s a perfect example: I spent a good deal of time one evening last week “creating” a meme (generally a picture of some sort that contains a brief written message/lesson) for the Petals from the Basket Facebook page. (Do you follow it? I’d love to see you there!) I was really pleased with how it turned out, so I smiled at it for a few minutes, admiring my handiwork and sincerely hoping that its simple beauty would bring home a truth to both my faith-friends and my friends whose faith has not yet found a home.
With that sincere desire in my heart, I clicked “post” and walked away from my computer.
An hour later, I was checking for an update on someone whose mom had been in the hospital, and I glanced at the meme on my own page—the meme I had contentedly and literally smiled at for what might seem an inordinate amount of time before having posted it. Oh my heart. There it was: this gigantic capital H was staring back at me with a snarky look as it announced to all: Brenda clearly didn’t proofread her own meme! [As you can see, I used a capital H on Hope; it should be lowercase as part of this sentence! As for the capitalization of entire words, that was simply a font choice.]
Lesson learned. I will look more closely, through unblinded eyes, or have someone else look at it for me before I post the next meme.
The bottom line, however, is not about the error; it’s about the message in the meme. But at this point, the meme holds a second meaning that hits as close to home for me as the first one.
“Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye” (Matthew 7:5, NLT).
How quickly I identify the wrong choices someone else makes. How quickly I hear what (I think) they should be saying instead. How quickly I jump right in with “solutions” that will “correct” what (I think) they should be doing better.
How slow I am to accurately identify those wrong choices, wrong words, and wrong actions—in other words: those sins—in my own life.
How slow I am to clear away the sin that is revealed to me, and how quick I am to excuse it, to justify it, and to condemn that very thing in others.
Lord, remove the log in my eye that often clouds my view of my genuine self. When I can once again have unobstructed vision to observe the tiny speck in someone else’s eye, let me grant to that person the grace and unconditional love that I daily receive from You.
