So I stopped talking, trying to convince her of my innocence. I cried instead. I gave my reputation to Jesus to manage, as I’m not so great at doing that task. I remember the release I felt when I realized this truth about God: He sees.
He sees my heart. He sees my motives (and there are plenty of impure ones mixed together in a jumble of confusion and integrity). He sees the bureaucrat’s heart. He discerns my friend’s heart. He knows my desires. It’s completely freeing to know that even if someone else doesn’t believe me, I don’t need to “protesteth too much.” I can rest. God sees. He knows. He rewards those who are faithful in little.
It also reminds me not to be so quick to pass judgment on someone’s motives or heart, not to accuse blindly, not to jump to conclusions without patiently listening and asking questions, not to jump to bitterness before I have a chance to exercise forgiveness. Bitterness, if I let it take root, does one awful thing. It makes me blind to the heart of another. It assigns negative intent to that person. It only sees the bad, oblivious to the good.
There have been far too many times in my life when I’ve listened to gossip about someone else. If that’s the first thing I hear about him/her, it forever colors my view. The older and wiser I get, the less I give weight to the first thing I hear. I try to meet people fresh, try to draw them out and discover their heart. Not always, but I try.