All of life is a courtroom.
The judge upholds righteousness and justice with truth and grace.
My place is at the defendant’s table where Jesus is my advocate, where justice and mercy meet.
But sometimes I lose my place and sit instead in the judge’s seat. I don the robe and take up the gavel. I take offense and assume I know what is in the heart of others. I feel the need to decide who is in the wrong and why. I feel very right when I do this.
Sometimes I eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
Sometimes I try to remove the speck from someone else’s eye.
But the robe is too big for me and the gavel too heavy and the plank in my own eye makes me blind.
My place is at the defendant’s table. It’s the only seat in the courtroom where I can receive grace. And I need to receive grace.
Join me there.