Do you have a speck or a log in your eye? Sharri Kerkhoff offers her perspective.
Elisa
What if Small is Actually Big?
By Sharri Kerkhoff
It was a sunny Fall morning when my friend and I set off on a day of errands. I picked her up in my minivan and we were buzzing north on her country road when suddenly a piece of wood appeared ahead of us in the road. It startled us both. It didn’t seem large, but I didn’t want to hit it. I abruptly swerved to miss it. Once I avoided the log, I put the van in reverse.
"You're a nicer person than I am," my friend said. "I would have just left it." I agreed that we didn't have to move it, but disagreed that I was nicer than her.
I carefully backed up to put my driver's door right above the piece, so that I could just lean out my van door, pick it up with one hand, and give it a toss in the ditch. My friend offered to get it, but I said, "I got this."
Upon opening my door, I could see that this was not a one-handed task. So, I unbuckled and got out. As soon as I did, there was my friend in the road offering to help. And it was a good thing! It turned out that it was bigger than one of us could handle alone.
This log was so much bigger at zero miles per hour than it seemed in the distance at 50 miles per hour. As I made that observation I remembered Jesus’ warning about logs.
Both Matthew and Luke write of this lesson from Jesus. Here's Luke's account: "Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,' when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye.” (Luke 6:41-42 NASB)
When I removed the log from the road, I realized that afternoon in my minivan how my speed and distance had caused me to misjudge its size and significance. With our fast-paced lives, are we doing the same with the “logs” in our eyes of which Christ speaks?
Jesus, of course, had created this metaphor to illustrate how we humans are prone to picking out the smallest of sins and inequities in other people, while missing the huge versions of the same thing in our own life. Thanks to that misplaced log, I had a vivid example of what Jesus meant by misjudging the big logs we are carrying around. I realized that my busyness and distraction were seriously impacting my ability to self-assess. Am I quiet enough, still enough, focused enough to adequately evaluate my own “logs” or my faults?
We are all wise to consider our logs. Because Jesus suffered and died on a log for each of us, there is redemption, there is forgiveness, and there is the hope of permanent removal of sin from our lives.
Just like my experience on that country road, if you find that your log is bigger than expected and you need a friend to help, he’s there waiting. Waiting for you to identify it, see the need to move it, and ask for help. Just like my friend was, he’ll already be there the moment you recognize the need. Because he wants to help us see him and others clearly.
Sharri is a Midwest farmer’s-daughter-turned-journalist from the last century (just ask her Gen Z children). She intentionally diminished her professional journalistic role as she parented two neurologically spicy and talented children with chronic illness. She stumbled into writing five plays and countless skits for the church stage, became a published lyricist, and created practical training for women’s ministry leaders. Women, especially mothers, have Sharri's whole heart. She still lives in the middle of corn fields in a flyover state with her husband, Harrell, and they eagerly await the birth of their first grandchild in early 2025.
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