How to Live Out Your Convictions Without Sounding Judgemental
Tolani took a slow breath, adjusting her buba as the aroma of fried meat filled her mother’s kitchen. Across the table, her cousin Chidinma was busy unpacking plastic shopping bags. Out came bottles of bleached skin lotions, a heavily synthetic wig, and a receipt from a club night the previous weekend.
Six months ago, Tolani had experienced a radical spiritual awakening. She joined the campus fellowship, committed to a life of modesty, and vowed to guard her heart. It came from a place of deep conviction—she genuinely loved God. But she knew the friction her new life had caused. Last Christmas, she had walked into the family parlor, looked at her cousins, and muttered something about “worldliness and Jezebel dressing.” The silence that followed was louder than a broken generator. She wanted to win souls; she had ended up sounding judgmental.
Chidinma dropped a packet of extra-long acrylic nails on the table. “I know, I know,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Sister Tolani, the holy version. Come and tell me I’m going to hell. Blow the trumpet already.”
Tolani felt the familiar urge to fire back with a Bible verse, but she caught herself. She loved God, but she realized she wasn’t representing His heart well if by driving people away.
“Chidi, I’m not saying anything, oh,” Tolani said gently, sitting down. “In fact, that nail color is actually beautiful. It reminds me of the shade we both wore for Aunty Nike’s wedding, remember?”
Chidinma paused, her defensive posture softening slightly. “Yeah. We really enjoyed ourselves that day.”
“Chidi, I changed how I do things because my heart was feeling empty, and I needed God to anchor me,” Tolani said softly. She didn’t quote scriptures on modesty or lecture Chidi about holiness. She kept the focus entirely on her own testimony. “It’s just the path God is leading me on right now. It doesn’t mean I look down on you.”
“It just feels like every time I come around you now, you are holding a marking scheme for my life,” Chidinma admitted, looking away.
“I am really sorry I made you feel that way,” Tolani said genuinely. “That’s my fault. I get so excited about what God is doing in my life, but I don’t want my faith to feel like a cane to beat you with.”
Later that evening, they sat together to plait each other’s hair. Tolani didn’t offer unsolicited sermons about Chidi’s lifestyle. Instead, when Chidinma naturally asked why Tolani seemed so much more at peace lately, Tolani shared her testimony with joy—focusing on God’s love rather than her cousin’s shortcomings.
By the time they were wrapping their hair for bed, Chidinma looked at Tolani. “Your fellowship people… do they have midweek service? I might want to just come and see.”
Tolani smiled, her heart full. She realized that living out her godly convictions didn’t require building a courtroom. It required building an altar of love.
As Christian youths, our passion for righteousness can sometimes be misinterpreted as pride or condemnation. When we weaponize our convictions, we push the very people we want to win further into the world.
Here is how to share your godly standards through grace rather than judgment:
- Share your testimony, not your timeline: Tell people what God did for you, not what they need to change in themselves. Lived experience is hard to argue with.
- Keep legalism out of the conversation: Avoid focusing solely on outward rules (dressing, drinking, music) when talking to non-believers or struggling friends. Focus on Christ first.
- Wait for the open door: Do not force spiritual advice down people’s throats. Pray for opportunities, and wait until they ask questions before sharing deep truths.
- Check your facial expressions and tone: A pious sigh, a side-eye, or a patronizing “Hmm” can speak louder than words. Let your countenance reflect the fruit of the Spirit.
- Remember your own “Before”: Never forget that your righteousness is as filthy rags without Christ. Remembering where God brought you from keeps you humble and relatable.
