How do I describe You, when my words come from the mouth of a spiritual infant?
I read the red letters and fell in love in with the miracles in it
And I get a picture of You from the pictures portrayed in the snapshots of Scripture
I wonder if Adam knew he put his lips on the Fall whenever he'd kiss her
But I've put my lips on the Fall more times than I care to count
And I've hung pictures of You on my wall, and I stared with doubt
I don't know if You look like the pictures we portray You to be
What's my purpose, God? What did You create me to be?
I'm dying for You to show up and just say it to me
And lately, it feels like You're too busy hanging out in outer space
So I take this pen and this paper, and I write these thoughts until I'm out of space
And when I put this pen on this desk, I take a breath
And I honestly daydream about the day I get put in that casket and laid to rest
I'm only thirty, but the weight of this stress pushes so hard on my chest
And sometimes, I literally feel like I can't breathe
You said I'd have peace and joy, but that can't be
Because I'm so sick of church politics and religious greed
I had to take back my life like just give it to me
And this poem isn't for harbor shores
Pay attention so you know who these bars are for
I don't want You, and I don't need You
I've spent my whole life looking for You, but I still can't see you
And maybe that's because You're invisible
I hope You're enjoying Heaven because down here, I'm miserable
And in Sunday school, they told me Jesus loves the little children
So where were You in Parkland when that gunman showed up to kill them?
I guess You had the day off, didn't You, Jesus?
I'm doubting everything these fake pastors feed us
You do nothing when radicals attack us and beat us
Do You even care about the way that they treat us?
It's like You turn a blind eye, and You don't even need us
My eyes are far from blind, and I'm not turning or shutting them
I've spent 30 years of my life with my nose in Your Book just studying
And where did that ever get me except confused and anxious?
Half of what I read felt aloof and ancient
Your Holy Book was written 2000 years ago
I sat in the pews scared as a kid, and my tears would flow
And I prayed so bad for dad to be healed with a miracle
You turned water into wine, but in my eyes, You couldn't take that water from mine
You never came to save the day, and everything dad built for 35 years, You had double-minded men take away
And I know they'll get theirs someday, but I'd rather slit my throat than sit under another corrupt elder board Monday to Sunday
I grew up in a cult, and I got told You're everything You're not
And I'm standing here right now with everything that I got
And I don't have much to offer You
I grew up in that cult, does that make me a scoffer, too?
As a kid, I'd sit under that preaching and doze off in the pew
And I'd wake up to people picking me up and passing me around
"He's gonna grow up to be the next Billy Graham", they'd say around town
But every one of those fakes bailed on me when I was down
A church pew kid who found out religion is nothing but a cult
When I woke up, I split from that place like Usain Bolt
And I left the wannabe-elect and ran to the only thing I believed to be true
I'm here right now telling You what You need to do
I need You to erase every memory of that place and the lies I was taught
And if You want me to be strong, I can try, but I'm not
I need You to rescue me from everything I saw as a church pew kid
When You put me in that church, You cursed this kid
And now, I'm asking You to wash me in Your river, emerge me, and rinse me
Jesus, take my old thoughts about You, and cleanse me