I’m Ok with the Plank in My Eye
“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?
How can you say to your brother, `Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?
You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
- Matthew 7:3–5
I’m Ok with the Plank in My Eye
There is a wooden plank lodged deep into my eye,
And I’m ok with that.
It’s been there for so long, it feels like a part of me.
I’ve learned to see the world through this strange lens of mine,
And I’m ok with that.
Will this plank ever leave my sight? Perhaps not.
But I’m ok with that.
Around this plank in my sight, my vision has grown keen,
Spotting the flaws in others’ eyes with ease.
I want to help them remove these specks,
Because specks quickly turn to planks,
And no one should have to be tormented by a plank in their eye.
Except, of course, for me. Because,
I’m ok with that?
With every speck I help remove, I shed a tear,
Joyful to see people with clear sight.
But also,
My eye is beginning to sting.
Am I really ok with this?
My vision blurs, my eye swells.
Tears begin to gather in my eye around the plank.
My sight turns to black. I’m in pain.
I shouldn’t be ok with this, right?
Blind, I still help others as best I can,
But I can’t help them anymore, not like before.
I don’t want to be ok with this.
“You can only take others as far as you’ve gone yourself.”
And suddenly, I’m seeing stars.
The plank is felt, but no longer seen anymore.
I should have had it removed when I had the chance,
Someone please help me.
I’m not ok with this anymore.
Light.
Blinded, but for a different reason now.
The Holy Carpenter begins to remove the wooden plank,
Promising that His grace is sufficient for me.
Tears fall, but not from the plank this time. This can’t be right,
I’m not ok with this.
Each inch is agony, but He doesn’t stop,
Telling me that nothing can separate me from His love.
Stop. Please keep the plank in place.
I’m afraid of what He will see if this plank is removed.
I don’t want to be ok with this.
He tells me that He knows my heart condemns me. But He is greater than my heart and knows everything about me.
More tears. More pain. More plank pulled out.
Am I allowed to be ok with this?
He says that as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His love for me.
He doesn’t stop pulling. I’m afraid of what happens when it’s out.
God teach me,
To be ok with this.
He removes the plank with gentleness, wiping away my tears.
He tells me to boldly approach His throne of grace.
Upwards I look, dried tears and blood on my face.
The rugged Carpenter sits on His throne, saying He does not condemn me, for I am in Him.
To his left, a booming voice, “You are my precious boy, in whom I am well pleased. I love you.”
I’m starting to be ok with this.
God, the Author of Salvation, is madly in love with me,
Despite every speck and plank in my eye. And,
I’m ok with this.