I know you think you know all the things that you think you know about. You don’t know the half of it. I realize it is uncomfortable for you to look for flaws in any direction except mine, but you need glasses. And a mirror.
It might surprise you to know that I am not the only one whose robes are not pristine. It might surprise you to know that the way YOU thought robes should be kept is part of the reason mine are in such tatters. That the twisted truths you imparted with fear have had a ripple effect. That sometimes the misguided sins of the father ARE visited on the next generation….and everyone they try to love.
Here is the deal. I am imperfect. He is imperfect. She is imperfect. They are gay. He used to use drugs. She is adopted (though I’m not sure why THAT is included on this list). She is normal and believes Song of Solomon was not an allegory. He starves people. There’s a lot of sin out there.
And you commit some of it, from a critical spirit to gossip to self-righteousness to haughty eyes to a proud heart.
How about we concentrate on the moat, and quit drawing up your spine over my speck.
Someone who is just as good as you….and just as bad