Specks and Planks

We all do it when discussing a certain cold, milky, sweet substance. We might start with a description, when they learn that, then we spell it, but kids learn to spell pretty quickly. We had exhausted all the terminology that could be used for these sweet, milky substances and started referring to them in other languages. Soon, my kids learned the word “ice cream” in multiple languages. First, we switched to Russian. Then Mandarin. Then Italian. Spanish. No matter what “code” we used, they cracked it.

Have you ever tried to relay to your children a message in code, hoping other children wouldn’t pick up on it?

We were traveling with our four children. It was late, I was exhausted, and we had hours to wait for our train. The station felt grimy, and I was doing my best to keep little hands off the floor, the walls, and each other. Near us sat another mother with her children, who looked equally restless. My kids began edging toward hers, eager for playmates.

My “germ radar” went on high alert. So I quietly gave instructions in English—our so-called “secret code”—nobody spoke English. I told my children to be polite but not to share snacks or toys. Then, in my weariness, I muttered words I wish I could take back: “They are dirty.”

I assumed I was safe. After all, we were in Ukraine. Who would understand?

Moments later, the woman looked at me and replied in flawless English. My stomach dropped. She had understood everything.

I wanted to sink into the floor, but instead she smiled warmly and struck up a conversation. She told me how she had taught herself English simply because she loved the language. Talking with a native speaker was a dream come true for her. And there I sat, exposed as a judgmental Christian who had written her off based on appearances.

Her kindness in that moment shamed me more than any rebuke could.

Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:3 came rushing to mind:

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own?”

I had been so focused on what I thought was wrong with her, I didn’t notice the pride and prejudice in my own heart.

That evening taught me that words spoken in “secret” are rarely as hidden as we think. Body language, tone, or even a slip of the tongue can reveal far more than we intend. More importantly, God sees beyond outward appearances—ours and others’. As the Lord told Samuel, “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7).

I wonder how many opportunities I’ve missed because I judged too quickly. How many conversations shut down before they began?

That night, I was given a gift: a reminder to look past appearances and to see others the way God does. Sometimes the sweetest thing isn’t ice cream—it’s grace.