I never was known as a nasty sinner, but that’s generally because I’m too big of a chicken to do most of the things that garner such a reputation. The nasty sinner in me has always been contained on the inside. I suspect some people think this makes me better than those who misbehave in more prominent ways. But I know better.
I find the phrase “there, but for the grace of God, goes I” to be a condescending load of you know what. My thought is “there I go,” grace of God notwithstanding.
So I have a hard time despising people. I just do. And the reason isn’t that difficult to comprehend: it’s because I find a part of me in just about everyone.
This world of ours enjoys dividing itself up into neat little camps: liberals and conservatives, legals and illegals, citizen and foreigner, black and white, gay and straight, christian and non-christian, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, blue collar and white collar, single and married, married and divorced, criminal and non-criminal, addicts and clean/sober. And many, many more.
I could fill out this checklist and figure out which side describes me the best, but I have a hard time buying the t-shirt for any of them.
To be brutally honest, in many ways, I am a lonely guy. And I think I know why. It’s because each camp seems to want its members to look down on the “other” camp. Some do this blatantly with a mean spirit. Others do it much more innocently under the banner of patriotism or group pride or—maybe most deceptive of all—pity.
But I just can’t. And though that allows me the freedom to befriend absolutely everyone on the planet, it also means I am never allowed to fully fit in.
But that’s okay with me. I actually prefer it to any alternative.
Minutes to Memories 