I woke up tired this morning. A long weekend did it: up late Saturday night, almost no sleep Sunday. By this morning, I had nothing left, physically or emotionally. Catching up on sleep is like climbing a greased rope. You grab, you pull, and you slide right back where you started.

I poured my coffee, opened my Bible, and asked God what he wanted me to hear from him today. Tired people read differently. We skim for comfort. Or we hunt for ammunition.

And that’s what I found.

“What business do the ones I love have figuring out how to get off the hook? And right in the house of worship! Do you think making promises and devising pious programs will save you from doom? Do you think you can get out of this by becoming more religious? A mighty oak tree, majestic and glorious— that’s how I once described you. But it will only take a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning to leave you a shattered wreck.” Jeremiah 11:15–16 MSG

Right away I thought of a church leader who told me I needed to finish a class before he would speak with me. Reading this felt like vindication. God heard me. I felt like the bully’s sidekick, the kid at the edge of the playground egging the bully on while he pounds somebody into the gravel. Yeah, God! Stomp him into the dirt. Give him what he gave me: zero compassion, no empathy, no conversation.

Then I kept reading. A few verses later, Jeremiah prays this:

“GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies, you’re a fair judge. You examine and cross-examine human actions and motives. I want to see these people shown up and put down! I’m an open book before you. Clear my name.” Jeremiah 11:20 MSG

Jeremiah wanted what I wanted. He wanted them shown up and put down. He was standing on the same playground, cheering. But Jeremiah did it different. He didn’t take it to the playground. He took it to God, laid himself open, and left the verdict there.

Dang it.

I’m not going to pretend the damage didn’t happen. He failed to lead, and he failed to live up to his own words and the words of scripture. That’s all true. But judging him isn’t my place, and the timing isn’t mine either. I don’t get to raise a hand against him.

Even God doesn’t enjoy it when he judges.

“As sure as I am the living God, I take no pleasure from the death of the wicked. I want the wicked to change their ways and live. Turn your life around! Reverse your evil ways! Why die, Israel?” Ezekiel 33:11 MSG

Paul says love doesn’t delight in evil but rejoices with the truth (1 Corinthians 13:6). The truth is that a door stayed closed, and it hurt. Cheering for his fall? That’s something else entirely.

My job is to love God and love others.

Some mornings that’s harder than I’d care to admit.