Sometimes I can’t see very well. All myopia aside, it’s the log: if I peek around it, the view is crowded by its branches.
no one does good, not even one. Their throat is an open grave
How thankful I am for the Savior.
Every time I lament so-and-so’s mistreatment, or this person’s foolishness, or everyone’s driving, each pocketed viewpoint then becomes blocked by my knotty (naughty) pine. It’s an absolute horror that I have such a streamed view of others’ issues—only periodically blocked by black spots of Yours Truly’s haughty offerings of bread and fish.
For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin.
How quick my flesh is to observe others’ failings—while I yet have the propensity to forsake the Word of God and become puffed up.
Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?
It’s been said, “Every time you point a finger, you’ve got four pointing back at you.” Do I really believe that trite idiom? Or does my heart secretly say, “Well, the thumb doesn’t count.”
“They do this… She does that… He never… They always…” It’s all garbage: the more I revel in that kind of jargon, the more obvious it is that we’re all cut from the same cloth—and I’m no exception.
But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law… the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.
I suppose it boils down to pro actively keeping eyes off of others, and off of self. It’s all ugly, really, and my mind is easily distracted and confused.
whatever is true… honorable… right… pure… lovely… of good repute… excellence… worthy of praise, dwell on these things.
May God give us strength today, to sing only this song: “Yahweh is Holy…”