JBM.

My pastor was good today. Really good. It was one of those moments in my life when I'm like, Did he really just say that? We are so going to be in trouble. I can't believe he just said that. And now I want to "Amen" out loud, and oh dear did I really just "Amen" out loud? And I'm laughing and everyone looks nice and the lighting is fluorescent but still good and it's one of those James Bond moments.
James Bond has extremely good life moments. Things that don't happen naturally but they should. Things that happen while you're wearing black floral patterned tights and someone is telling you everything you already knew but never thought anyone else did before but now you know that they do.
Today I had a James Bond moment, a JBM.
I was even wearing lipstick.

My pastor said this morning, Don't you dare be condemned. 
The truth is, I have been condemned and persecuted and chastised and shunned and ridiculed and slandered for a good portion of my life. I've been robbed of some James Bond moments. Some really good ones.
Hypocrisy is a disease as deadly and slow as cancer. It has deep roots, and it hurts to be rid of it. But our churches, I don't care what church you go to, your church, our churches need some weeding done. And I will tell you, the ones who need it most are the ones who preach it most and pretend it most and lie most.
Did you know, if you tell yourself a lie enough times, you can actually believe it's true.
That makes me sad.
 I see now that I let people rob me of my James Bond moments. I did that. I let condemnation and judgmental glares and sharp whispers steal precious things from me. Whether it was simply a louder voice to worship with or the freedom to wear a skirt that hits above my kneecaps because modesty is a heart issue not a law or a laugh during a sermon or hands raised or floral tights or red lipstick or jeans or books I read and things I discover and ways I want to further my education and the definition of a 'missionary' and a woman's role and opinions and remarks that might scare some people. I have not actually been free in Christ for a very long time. Only recently did someone define liberty in a way that I always believed it to be but was told is never okay. Only recently have I heard other people say, You're right. You can believe that. It's okay.
Don't you dare be condemned.
How convicting that is.

I know the gospel. I have lived almost my entire life ever since I was a little girl, a child, listening to stories and sermons and preachers and pastors and wisdom and doctrine and theory. I have read books. I have studied in depth a plethora of issues. I have watched the documentaries. I have seen salvation at work. I have lived and loved and served and heard and heeded and learned and I continue to do so. I don't know everything. I hardly know anything. But I no longer want to be robbed of my James Bond moments because of the hypocrisy that other people have hidden from me.
I have covered my eyes for so long to the faults and flaws and downfalls of everyone else whose opinions and judgments I so readily inflicted upon my own small back.
I am by no means perfect.
But I do not have a secret life. I do not live sinfully during the night and change my colors during the morning. I strive to be a Godly woman, a good woman. I want to be honest. I want to give. I want to love.
I want to do better.

Early this year I had an experience that changed my view of people. I came to the realization that I only see what people want me to see of them. I know people when they're at their best because that's who they want to be in front of me. The best. But we're all human, we're all flesh. And so there was a slip, a very subtle shift. And it only took one night. But finally I pulled my hands down from my eyes and saw the truth.
We are all fallen.

I am liberated though.
To have all the James Bond moments my life owes me.

No condemnation, no judgments here. I only want to love you and pray for you and serve you.
Acts 14.