Dots

I never really understood this phrase:

 

“Hate the sins, not the sinners.”

 

How could one not hate the sinners for the sins they’ve made? Sinners and sins come as one, they could never be pulled apart. They choose to make the sins, they are aware of what they’re doing. How could they not be blamed?

 

If I committed an unlawful act, certainly I deserved to be hated for it.

 

But today, I finally understood. For a person is not made of only one type of clay. We are not the dough which shaped the bread, baked to form the golden crust altogether. We are the soils of the earth, rendered to flourish the plants as we see fit.

 

You and I are different. But we are both humans. Made of the same muscles, the same blood coursing through our capillaries, our hearts beating the same tunes, albeit having different souls. But, in a way, You and I are the same.

 

 

If we were the dots, the canvas as the world, which one is You? And which is I?

 

I could not judge you, as you couldn’t judge me.

 

Today, I learned to love and to care, without being judgmental.