When I catch myself starting to judge, and I wish, instead, to simply accept all the differences among us, I recall a family trip to Italy.
Upon arriving in Multepulciano, we visited the Duomo.
“Aw, cute doggie,” gushed Stephanie, pausing on the steps outside the door.
“Look! A della Robbia!” squealed Many Lou upon entering and glancing to the left.
Frank was drawn straight to the tomb.
The worn wooden kneeler in front of the confessional most interested me. While each member of our family explored according to his or her own interests, with my own knees pressed into the grooves formed over centuries, I thought of the hurts carried in the hearts of thousands of people who had knelt there before me.
Krista stood, took all that in, and, with delight, shared what she saw: Stephanie loving animals, Mary Lou loving art, Frank loving history, me loving stories.
The fact is: we all see the world differently.
Instead of trying to convince others to see things our way or judge others for having different points of view and interests, we can appreciate the rich diversity among us and follow the callings of our own hearts.
All with reverence.