This is a pretty deep part of my life, I hope you find something in it. I welcome comments and criticism. I am still enjoying this journey of poetic writing.(December 31,2012 and March 11,2013)
We binge on the sweet taste of hope from the bosom of the bride of Christ, the church.
The supposed holy union between an imperfect humanity and a blameless son, man.
We are raised to think dutifully, like disciples disciplining ourselves with ball and chain, tied to a game of thrones, of pious overgrowns, of adults wanting us to become what they had never known..thrown
into these beautiful addictions, scriptures, prescribed to save us from want, greed and selfishness, to bring us from dust to inheritance of blessing..
I’m guessing, only at the foundation they so surely entrusted us to connect with, a place to call home where we could meet kids and get accepted.
Why do others berate us because of our name?
Is it from the bible thumpers, who thrash with stickers on their bumpers, and wave silently as the hurting pass by?
Instead of thrusting love, they deliver judgment disguised in the form of God’s word.
It was written therefore it is so, that’s what they say.
“Your sin is sin, so go ahead, disobey, for one day you will face The Lord in dismay.”
Well I say to hell with religion and its division. To denominate, to give away in a specified unit, or rather to name away, is what we have done.
To separate the congregation into aggregative stakeholders in the kingdom, instead of redressing and stitching together the purified bride adorned in white.
What conscience have we? Where was hope lost?
What place have we if not but to gallop in reverse to the throne of God, to revere in the adolescence of crying out his name in need.
When will we push beyond the onset of the born again honeymoon phase and face the obstacles of maturity, fearlessly?
It is I who is a victim of this Christian tide that ebbs and flows. It uses saltwater to leach out the pure, unquantifiable desire to be like him, and neatly replaces this desire with the fake incessant want to be righteous.
But, the tide eventually releases. I am now washed clean. I roll out onto the sand, a survivor.
I am a harbinger, an advocate. I am an emissary of the way, the truth and the life.
We are the salt of the earth, by our very nature sprinkled to preserve the beauty of humanity. It is a calling, to which I will swear my life. And despite my utter failures and inevitable lapses, I will prevail. Not by my own hands, but by those which were nailed for me. Those feet that once walked the streets as a sojourner were crippled upon the stripped wood for my sake. My Adonai, Immanuel, Elohim and my Savior.
Death will not do us part.