I shared a toasted sandwhich and my heart with a friend of mine today. We spoke about haircuts and weather and deadlines and relationships with men going through a divorce. She told me about how it all happened so fast and how she hadn't thought it would ever happen to her and how so many of her friends judge her while saying, "I'm not judging but..."
I told her, "I was sorry." Sorry for the breakup. And sorry for the friends who had hurt her. Sorry for the pain I could see seeping out her eyes and down her cheeks. Sorry that I couldn't help her. Sorry that I couldn't make it all better.
As I drove away from lunch I thought about how quickly I judge others. How quick I am to think, "I wouldn't have done that!" or "What were you thinking?" or to express dissappointment when all the other person wants is love. They want a response of love that recognises how close to the edge we come in failing to live perfectly. A response which cracks us open in vulnerabilty and offers a hand to say, "I'll help you get to the other side even if by associating with you I'll be tarred with the same brush". A response which shouts, "But for the grace of God, go I..."