Carrying the Baby

Everyone is always looking at my hands. When I walk to school, parents look at my bare hands. When I take a stroll through town, passersby look at my long, cold, fingers. As I walk through the store, surreptitious glances are cast at my left-hand ring finger. And they are not disappointed. There is no ring there. I am not married. No one is shocked. Not even a little surprised. Perhaps they are even a little excited. Before this year, when people looked at my hands, I didn't mind. What teenage girl doesn't want a guy to know that she's single?

When people notice the absence of a wedding ring, there is a slight shift in their eyes, and they start looking at my stomach. They notice how large I look, and how the rest of me is still so small. They notice the extra pounds that has been added to my midriff. They notice how my hands are now folded over my front, and the absence of a stone still sets them off. They can't look at my eyes.

When their eyes finally do travel to my face, there is no curiosity in them. There is no interested light that normally twinkles when you meet new people. There is only pity. And judgement. I feel my heart travel to my shoes. These people have written my story for me. A teenage mother, who couldn't possibly be older than 17; I am not married, the father probably left at the prospect of raising a family; I am most likely living with my parents. Not working, but staying at home to take care of my mistakes. I have abandoned all hopes of a normal life, dreams of college are now put on the shelf. Someone who deserves their pity and sympathy rather than their friendship and their respect. 

This is the life that I live now. The life of a teenage nanny. No one bothers to look at me and find out that the baby I carry in my backpack is not mine. That she is one of the sweetest and most loving beings I have ever met. That I took this job because sometimes the Lord has different plans than I think I should have. That because of the time that I take out of my day for this child, she won't have to spend eight hours in a day care with caretakers that don't have enough time for her. That the Lord knows other's needs better than I know them, and knows where I am most helpful and able to show my love. People just see my youth, and assume that this child was not intended. That she was an accident. 

When people are done writing my life, this has only taken a few minutes of their time. Often, it's taken less than a single minute. After this, there is no danger in silently judging me. Because the people that I talk to have not been single teenage parents, they are put above me. They are allowed to judge me. The world has shown them that someone else's mistakes are reasons for demotion, and allow them to step higher in the social ladder. Their own mistakes and choices are irrelevant. Since I am a single, young woman, carrying a baby at the grocery store, I am not worth much more than their silent pity and judgement. 

This is the image that the world teaches to us.And we have all forgotten the teachings that we knew before the world told us they were wrong. The words that are written in our hearts are not initially turned to hatred and judgement. We are not prone to feelings of inferiority until we are taught that we are inferior. We have all forgotten that Jesus himself ate with sinners and tax collectors, as well as with the wealthy and the religious. We have all forgotten that there are no sins that are unforgivable. 

Sometimes, we are brought to think that we should single-handedly carry out the judgement of the Lord. "Well, they wouldn't get in to heaven with that sort of attitude anyways." "They won't make it far with an unplanned child." "They don't deserve Jesus' love, so they don't deserve mine." We feel so negative about ourselves, that the only way to make ourselves feel better is to tear down those that probably need to be built up more than ourselves. Our own personal crusades against sin make us unaware of the fact that we are all sinners, and that we all carry our own burdens and mistakes. This renaissance blinds us to the real mission that the Lord has called us to. The mission to love all those around us, and all those we ever meet. 

Not to say that as soon as I set the baby down and take the bus home, I don't bury myself in anything that could possibly distract me from interacting with others. I am eager not to encourage any more judgement, and I would rather not be an open invitation for more. I am not perfect. But ignorance is another form of judgement. The lack of interest I show in people is not exactly what I want the Lord to see me doing if He stops His work to observe mine. Would He like it if He saw that I have all these broken people around me, and I didn't do my part to mend them? That I thought my cracks were more important than theirs, and that I should be healed first? 

I feel like the Lord would be ashamed of my pride. 

But I am not beyond forgiveness. The Lord will still love me, as long as I live, and probably further on than that. The real question is, can I forgive myself, and forgive those around me? Can I put aside my own prejudices to realize that no one deserves my judgement, just as much as I don't deserve theirs? Can I possibly lower myself to the realization that I need to ask for forgiveness for my own sins. 

Because we all carry our own babies. And none of us are beyond forgiveness. Because  the Lord loves us anyways.