My parents named me well. Dan means judge in Hebrew. But I’m not implying that I’m necessarily a good judge of others. What I mean is that I tend to judge quickly. And that’s not always a healthy thing—rarely is it, in fact. Still, that doesn’t seem to stop me; I tend to do it quite naturally from my heart.

It’s funny, too, how soon an emboldened sense of self-righteousness began to take root after I gave my life to the Lord: “What’s that guy doing? Why does he say things like that? Doesn’t he realize how God hates that stuff?” Never mind the fact that I’d find ways to excuse my own motives while doing something equally immature.

Although deep down I knew my lapses in behavior posed troubling questions concerning my own walk with God, these faults still seemed much worse in others. And not only that, I found it really easy to get all puffed up once I began to learn a little more than those around me. Do you suppose this might have stemmed from an attitude of superiority rooted in pride? Oh yeah! In fairness,

I didn’t go around brandishing this attitude (at least I don’t think I usually came off that way). Still, judgment was always there, quietly living its life just underneath the surface.