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Writer's pictureSharon Sherbondy

Becoming a Box Disassembler

About 6 years ago I had the trip of a lifetime. I went to Israel. It had been a dream that my kids and friends made possible. And it was an extraordinary experience. Being able to see where David most likely fought Goliath. Rummaging around the remains of a bet av where Abraham and his family could have lived. And walking the paths and climbing the hills that Jesus journeyed. It was life changing and shape shifting. Yes, something in me began to shift as I returned home. I had been impacted by this trip, absolutely, but it became more than just a physical and knowledge-gathering experience. God was doing something in me, unexpectedly.


The best description that I can give it - and this will sound trite - is love. I knew that Jesus spent his 3 years of ministry loving people, but being there, hearing the stories in context, getting an up close and personal view of the culture, it shifted me, shifted my love for others.


I hadn’t ever thought of myself as a judgmental person, but as I examined my heart, truly examined it, I discovered that I had spent a fair amount of my life in quiet criticalness. From something as inane as to how people parented their kids to how people spent their time, what they stood for, what they believed in or didn’t believe in, how they dressed, who they loved, the life they chose, the sexuality they embraced. I’d like to blame my “platforms” on my upbringing and the church, but that is no excuse. There is no place in Christ for criticalness, judgment, rejection, or condemnation as Jesus exemplified with every breath he took, every touch he offered, and every conversation he had. Jesus simply loved people. He encouraged them to live their best life, a life driven by love.


Since that trip, I have gradually disassembled my various hidden soap boxes. I have become more discerning of who and what I listen to. I don’t want to be influenced by the culture or a news station, podcast, religious articles or opinions. Which, some might think, makes me like an ostrich, sticking my head in the sand. But then I recall what I learned in Israel, specifically in Jerusalem. The main road in and out of Jerusalem was lined with dozens and dozens of people being crucified. This was Rome’s way of maintaining control. People were crucified for any and every reason, from the smallest infraction to the worst - all put on display so that people would remember to never cross a Roman.


This was what the Israelites (of all ages) either saw on a daily basis or were affronted with when they came to Jerusalem for Passover. No wonder the Jews were so eager for a Messiah, someone to save them from this brutality. But Jesus never spoke of that. Never got pulled into either political issues or the demands of the Pharisaical rules. He simply loved. Loved people no matter their political standing, their lifestyle choices, their ethnicity, their skin color, their personality, their occupation, or their sexuality.


Since I began and continue to rid myself of judgements, peace has come. And at times, I do feel a bit wimpy. But I’ve become a better listener. Listening to the voice and the heart of people before me. And I love better. Deeper. Sincerely. Honestly. And I’m finding that it’s a good way to live.


I will not ever make an impact in the wide wide world, either politically or religiously, but, maybe, I can assure every single person who crosses my path that they are accepted, embraced, validated and loved. And maybe, for some others, if they ask, I might be able to help them become a box disassembler themselves.


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