Grace Notes

There’s this woman. I’ve only met her in person two or three times, but she and I belong to the same professional organization of women authors and speakers, so I see her name continually.
About 10 or so years ago, she did something that I thought was reprehensible and I took great pleasure in knowing it’s one of God’s top 10 “thou shalt nots” and that she would one day reap what she had sown.
That’s not just karma; that’s Biblical — a double whammy.
Every time I’d see her name my stomach would knot and I’d think deliciously vindictive thoughts about her. She always seemed to have financial problems, which always seemed to appeal to my sense of smugness and justice.
“You play with fire, you get burned,” I’d think. “Get a real job and you won’t have to whine about your debt,” I’d think.
There’s a German word for this sense of delight over another person’s misery: schadenfreude. It’s a terrible trait in other people, don’t you think?
Well, wouldn’t you know, this woman started publishing books — lots of them. Sometimes an author stumbles onto an idea that has endless spin-off potential, which publishers and readers love.
I’ve never had a spin-off.
So, that only further fueled my intense hatred of this woman.
Yes, I know it’s wrong, but I rationalized it by telling myself that she sinned big time and my own sinning compared to hers was mostly junior-grade stuff.
This went on for a few years and no other person on earth or any other planet knew anything about how much I really, really, really hated this woman. The more good things that happened professionally for her (and not for me) the more delight I’d take in knowing that she was about 100 pounds overweight and had ugly hair.
And then I learned that she lost a boatload of weight and looked fantastic, which made me even more crazy insane and made my eyeballs cross just thinking about it.
I kept waiting for God to “get” her — she sinned! Big sin! — but it seemed like God had forgiven her or something. Extended his grace or something.
How fair is that?
As I reminded God, she was guilty of one of his specific commandments, after all.
It made me want to chew nails and spit out tacks.
Then I thought, “Well, maybe her hair is still ugly,” so I Googled her name to see if I could find her photo online.
Gulp. Whoever said this woman looked fantastic was right.
It’s not like I spent all my waking hours thinking about this woman, but whenever I’d see her name I wanted to retch and then entertain myself with thoughts of vengeance and justice, beginning with her gaining all that weight back.
Then something happened.
Someone began telling me about her blind rage over a person she had known more than 20 years ago and how she only wished evil on her and how happy she would be if this person were tied to a tree and drenched in honey, with thousands of fire ants crawling and biting the person’s bare feet.
I was horrified at her admission. To me, her problem was obvious.
“You don’t realize how much you’ve sinned and how much you’ve been forgiven,” I wanted to tell her. “You should focus on your own sin and take care of it.”
I wanted to say that, but the part of my brain that sends words out of my mouth somehow hit a glitch and the words took a detour into my heart.
Actually, they weren’t my words, but words Jesus spoke: “That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own” (Matthew 7:3, The Message).
I ended up not saying anything to my friend about her 20-year grudge and instead dealt with my own, which I realized stemmed from envy.
Funny how blind we are to our own sin yet that same sin in someone else is crystal clear.
As for whom God forgives — if he wants to forgive someone who sins, even one of the big 10, that’s his business. I’m just glad God forgives me.
Nancy Kennedy is the author of “Move Over, Victoria - I Know the Real Secret,” “Girl on a Swing,” and her latest book, “Lipstick Grace.” She can be reached at 352-564-2927, Monday through Thursday, or via email at nkennedy@chronicleonline.com.