The Lord Weighs the Heart:

Finding Grace in the Midst of Disagreement 

How a devotional reminded me that conviction and compassion can live side by side 

Today’s reflection was sparked by a devotional reading from Joshua Dubois’ The President’s Devotional. His words presented me with both a challenge and an invitation to reconsider how I approach disagreement in my own life. 

In his devotional, Dubois reflected on a heated policy debate and realized something vital: 

“You can question policy decisions. You can disagree with people—even vehemently. But you should be very, very careful before you question others’ motives…The Lord weighs the heart—not me, not anyone else but God.”
 

— Joshua Dubois, The President’s Devotional. 

That struck me. 

Too often, especially in our political climate, we turn disagreements into character assassinations. We make people who see things differently into our enemies. But what if, like Dubois, we chose another way? What if we fought passionately for what we believe, but also recognized that others are doing the same from their vantage point? 

This landed deeply because I know what it’s like to live on the vulnerable side of policy. 

Years ago, I received a small raise, just one dollar more than the income threshold for state health coverage. That “extra” dollar disqualified my children from medical care, but it wasn’t nearly enough for me to afford private insurance. I was a working mother, stretched thin, and my kids went without consistent healthcare for a season. Bills piled up. The stress was heavy.

That experience solidified my conviction in health equity, particularly for women, children, the elderly, veterans, and other vulnerable populations. 

So yes, I hold strong convictions. I know the stakes of policy decisions because I’ve lived them. But Dubois’ reminder helped me see something crucial: my convictions don’t give me the right to judge someone else’s heart. 

Proverbs 21:2 says, “Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart.” God alone sees the inner landscape of a person’s intentions. 

As I reflect, I realize that perhaps our true “enemies” aren’t other people at all, but our unchecked egos, our fear, and our unwillingness to listen. 

What might change if we approached political, personal, or even family disagreements with humility: seeking not just to win, but to understand? 

My hope is that we can begin to find middle ground. Not a ground where everyone gets everything they want, but one where human dignity and care are safeguarded on all sides. A ground where we argue policy hard and fair, but resist the temptation to call someone’s heart corrupt simply because it beats differently from our own. 

Reflection Questions: 

1. Where have your personal experiences shaped your convictions?
    
2. Can you recall a time when you assumed someone’s motives instead of listening to their perspective? 
   
   
3. What would it look like to “fight hard and fair” in your own context: at work, at home, or in the community? 

With thoughtful reflection, 

Stacie J.