Sainthood (a poem)

What happened to the woman who

was nearly stoned to death?

Jesus said to not sin again,

but if she’s like me, she was

back in sweaty sheets later that day,

engaged in sinful acts – it’s a fact that

we’re far from saints + sainthood is

a hatred of humanity

but Jesus was half-God,

so it’s not so odd to believe

He died for me + whether I sin today

or tomorrow doesn’t matter much

because grace is free

(Photo by Laura Allen on Unsplash)

Surrender (a poem)

You think God has left you, that perhaps

you’ve outgrown Him –

we all want to be gods now, in control of the things

that spin around us.

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Learning How to Pray

Prayer is a funny thing. How does one do it? What’s the purpose of it? Over the years, my prayer life has changed. And the ways in which I think of prayer, and it’s various uses, has also changed.

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Fallen Angels (a poem)

Satan rebels and fallen angels follow him

to the underworld – wings clipped, eyes ablaze

with red like the demons they are.

Stand atop this holy hillside and survey the city –

if you are the Messiah, then prove it.

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Tree of Knowledge

How can you know what perfect harmony is if you’ve never suffered?

It was like that for Adam and Eve, as they strolled through the Garden, bathing in sunlight and fresh air, at peace with all creatures.

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Pride: My Biggest Character Defect

During the years I’ve been in recovery, I’ve learned alternative definitions to many common words. Take “pride” for example. In most cases, it’s deemed good to be proud of one’s self. In recovery and religious terms, though, pride is seen as one of the biggest sins or “character defects.”

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Love is a Type of Water

As a child, at least as a child growing up heavily in church as I did, you are taught to memorize verse after verse. I remember most of the verses, even if it’s not word-for-word and the exact location. I can hold my own in an intellectual, biblical conversation. Its one of the things I’m most proud of about myself.

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Pray for You

Prayer has always been a major part of my life. I remember kneeling next to my bed as a little girl to pray. I even loved when I was old enough to lead my family in our dinner prayers, which sometimes felt like a sermon because I got lost on tangents and just love talking (even to God)!

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Complicated Love

I’ve got a thing for love.  I love love. And love, the love that is real, typically seems to be complicated.

If you ask me what book I’d want if I could only ever have one book for the rest of my life?  It would probably be Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. If I could only watch one movie for the rest of my life? You’ve Got Mail.  Both of these speak to my heart in a way that not much else does.

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