Plank or Speck?

Although I haven't read it recently, this passage came to my mind within the last week.

(Matthew 7:1-5 NIV)
1 "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. 3 "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? 4 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? 5 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.

I guess I'm ok at pointing out things in others' lives that aren't necessarily visible to them. Am I being critical of them? My question is what is the obvious thing (lacking/needing attention/etc.) in my own life that's not so obvious to me? In addition to that, are the things I see in others things that have been spiritually discerned such that I should be extra careful whether to share them with that person, or am I just judging myself better than them in some way, shape or form?

A song in my head

Anyone who currently works with me knows that I get pleasure out of getting a song stuck in their heads. The one that I've been using for that has (for the last few months) been Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline." I also like to "song drop." When words of a lyric of a song are mentioned in conversation, I'll sing or whistle a bit of the song, even if I only know a little of it. All of the "Sweet Caroline" nonsense started when we were talking about how many co-workers were expecting grandkids. Dan, a city carrier, was saying he didn't know the gender of his yet-unborn grandchild but that the names that had been picked out were Caroline and George. Without a thought, I belted out a bit of the song, and the rest, as they say, is history. I think most of them probably hate that song by now. Incidentally, the child was a boy and was named George, but the joke still goes on at least a couple times a week.

That said, a song that has been in my head on and off for the last day or two has been Kelly Clarkson's "Never Again." Here's an excerpt of the song.

I would never wish bad things
But I don't wish you well
Could you tell
By the flames that burned your words?

I never read your letter
'Cause I knew what you'd say
Give me that Sunday school answer
Try and make it all okay

Does it hurt
To know I'll never be there?
Bet it sucks
To see my face everywhere

It was you
Who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know

You knew
Exactly what you would do
Don't say
You simply lost your way

She may believe you
But I never will
Never again

 While I can identify with some of the lyrics here and elsewhere in the song from life experiences, the part that stuck out to me was the first two lines of the quoted section, which say, "I would never wish bad things, but I don't wish you well." At first glance or first listen, as it were, this doesn't sound too bad. After I thought about it, I realized that doing this sounds slightly different from the normal/natural tendency, which is to "love your neighbor and hate your enemy" (Matthew 5:43). But this is not up to the standard Jesus called us to, which is to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." (v44) He called us to this, saying "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (v48)

Two examples of this (off the top of my head) are Jesus and Stephen. Jesus, as He was in extreme agony, dying on the cross, cried out, "Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." (Luke 23:34) Stephen, as the crowd was stoning him, cried out, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." (Acts 7:60)

As I alluded to earlier, there were/are situations in my life where the normal/common/accepted thing would be to curse or hate those who hurt me. And I sure was there for a while. This, of course, did absolutely nothing to the other person, but it kept me from healing, kept me from freedom, and kept me in bondage to bitterness and anger. But God had and has more for me than that. To free me, He had to bring me to the place of remembering the pain to be able to forgive and release it.

Part of God's call is "to proclaim good news to the poor... to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners..." (from Isaiah 61:1) Just how are people supposed to do that if they haven't yet experienced it for themselves? Let's find freedom and healing, so we're able to move -- beyond "not wishing bad things" on those who have hurt us-- to loving as God loves.