We're not loving, we're hating

 I passed her in the hall,
and she frowned as clear as could be,
I thought, "What utter gall
that she would so look at me,
I've always thought her haughty,
old Sister So N So,
She's mean and cold and naughty,
and snooty from head to toe."
But I didn't know the rest of the story,
as I looked her up and down,
I assumed she was full of vainglory
and that was the cause of her frown,
But at home was a non-Christian spouse,
 they had bills and much infirmity,
They were close to losing their house,
and they suffered so incredibly.
"He did a poor job on his class,
his song leading, his presiding over the table,
It's a surprise what the elders let pass,
someone so ill-equipped and unable.
He doesn't even want to serve,
he just likes all the notice and glory,
He soaks up the spotlight with such nerve,
yep, it's that same old sad story!"
"She's so prejudiced." "He doesn't like me."
"What is it she has so against me?"
"They're cliquish, self-righteous, persnickety,
a standoffish, uncouth family."
Why do we indulge in such conjecture,
assuming a bad motivation?
Guilty 'til proven innocent, in need of a lecture!
We are bloated with insinuation!
Let's err on the side of charity,
assume that they're trying their best,
Give up conjecture, seek verity,
and not put them to such an austere test.
For such harsh and judgmental rating
says more about us than of them,
It says we're not loving, we're hating,
when so quickly we rush to condemn.
Were we to put the very best construction
on the words, deeds, and hearts of another,
We'd avoid the broad path of destruction,
as we look for the best in our brother!

 

Neal Pollard