mote or beam
I was sweeping my doorstep early in the day;
Until I noticed my neighbor cleaning her own dirt away.
I rushed over to her, and offered my broom;
Forgetting all along that I needed to still clean my room.
For, there in that space of mine, were cobwebs and dirt;
Jealousy, envy, strife, and harsh words that could only hurt.
In my closet, I had sin hid away; along with pride;
Yet I just shut the door; and pushed the dirt aside.
"Another day I'll take care of my own;
"For today I must help my neighbor clean her wrong."
I rushed over with my cloth in my hand;
"I'll clean every nook and cranny 'til it's spic-n-span."
She shook her head and
pointed me back to my home;
And as I looked, there in my yard
grew all the wild seed I had sown.
What a crop was growing there;
and on the house, hatred vines hung;
The dishes were caked with backbiting;
the floors covered in malice.
Murder was looking in the window panes;
Lies were falling down like heavy rains.
I fell to my knees, and for mercy and forgiveness cried;
"Oh, Jesus, let Your blood to my house be applied!"
"For how can I get the mote from another's eye;
When there is a beam in mine that I try to hide?
"Lord forgive me for the judging I do each day!
Help me, Father, to live faithfully in Your perfect way.
"Cause me to sweep my own door step, before I judge another;
Forgive me of my errors toward my sister and my brother.
Teach me to check in the mirror first and do my own part;
Before I reach out to help and haven't even cleaned my own heart!"
Joy Marie Parker