This is for the Christians. You. Me. We as a people.
Or maybe I should say the American Christians because this issue seems to be strictly bound by our borders.
It has been far too long since we’ve gotten a solid rebuke or a slap on the hand cause we as a people have decided its not “P.C.”
We try and tiptoe around topics to maintain our correctness, never realizing we’ve traded correct for incorrect.
The weight of our sins runs as thick as the fat on our thighs that hide the lies we blanket ourselves in.
It must be a good nights sleep.
Gluttony clings to our bodies and sits there blinding our eyes while the biggest injustice, real poverty, goes unseen.
Or we starve ourselves hoping to be a beauty in the eyes of a beholder
We measure ourselves to models who cut, copy, and paste their way to perfection.
All the while trying to win the eyes of the guys we beg not to fantasize.
Yes, beauty is to beheld but our definition of “beauty” rests on the lines of Merriam Webster not Lord the Creator.
All Lies.
The Lord is my Shepard I shall not want.
Want?
Do we even know what that is?
The line between want and need is so dim we forget that this biblical “want” means “lacking nothing” not a filling of our every “need.”
Then want becomes need, and we dismiss the promise that God said we wouldn’t lack and instead look to Him to satisfy our greed.
In our perfect houses we build pride as if a metal box with four wheels and a name slapped on it determines our worth.
And yes, on Sundays we take a break from our lives to actually feel, but as soon as we leave our places of worship, our hearts are numbed again by the “to-do’s” and “how-to’s” and our first-world problems bloat to the size of Goliath.
The worst part is our worship stays in its house.
It never gets taken out onto the streets, into the homes of those in need.
It sits there, ringing between the walls, as empty promises to a God we’ve sworn we’ve known.
There is an end,
but listen friend,
when this life expends,
do we intend
to completely rend
our hearts to amend
for time misspent
just to ascend
while the truth that transcends
was never unbent
to a world full of men?
Or will He say, “I never knew you,” and all that you’ve worked to defend, comes to it’s end.
Yes. This is for the Christians, or American Christians I should say.
Will you respond and repent or forget this poem and be numb again?
Or maybe I should say the American Christians because this issue seems to be strictly bound by our borders.
It has been far too long since we’ve gotten a solid rebuke or a slap on the hand cause we as a people have decided its not “P.C.”
We try and tiptoe around topics to maintain our correctness, never realizing we’ve traded correct for incorrect.
The weight of our sins runs as thick as the fat on our thighs that hide the lies we blanket ourselves in.
It must be a good nights sleep.
Gluttony clings to our bodies and sits there blinding our eyes while the biggest injustice, real poverty, goes unseen.
Or we starve ourselves hoping to be a beauty in the eyes of a beholder
We measure ourselves to models who cut, copy, and paste their way to perfection.
All the while trying to win the eyes of the guys we beg not to fantasize.
Yes, beauty is to beheld but our definition of “beauty” rests on the lines of Merriam Webster not Lord the Creator.
All Lies.
The Lord is my Shepard I shall not want.
Want?
Do we even know what that is?
The line between want and need is so dim we forget that this biblical “want” means “lacking nothing” not a filling of our every “need.”
Then want becomes need, and we dismiss the promise that God said we wouldn’t lack and instead look to Him to satisfy our greed.
In our perfect houses we build pride as if a metal box with four wheels and a name slapped on it determines our worth.
And yes, on Sundays we take a break from our lives to actually feel, but as soon as we leave our places of worship, our hearts are numbed again by the “to-do’s” and “how-to’s” and our first-world problems bloat to the size of Goliath.
The worst part is our worship stays in its house.
It never gets taken out onto the streets, into the homes of those in need.
It sits there, ringing between the walls, as empty promises to a God we’ve sworn we’ve known.
There is an end,
but listen friend,
when this life expends,
do we intend
to completely rend
our hearts to amend
for time misspent
just to ascend
while the truth that transcends
was never unbent
to a world full of men?
Or will He say, “I never knew you,” and all that you’ve worked to defend, comes to it’s end.
Yes. This is for the Christians, or American Christians I should say.
Will you respond and repent or forget this poem and be numb again?
Post Twenty-five Life 