Faith repurposed and reorganized; methodized and euthanized.
'Keep Holy The Lord's Day' is written in judgement.
The sluggards doze in a melancholic stupor,
my soul aches in a new way;
my heart among them.
The summers of yesterday, drenched in sweat.
Wondering in the dark, moonlight my vision, evil my works.
Taking it out all around me;
take another drink, smoke another one, sleep with someone.
Stumbling back to a locked rear door and sleeping outside in the frost.
Waking up to frozen dew stuck to the back of my clothes;
glimpses of side mirror memories.
Another girl, another trip, another day; going nowhere.
Lured by demons left beside me, ignorant in my own faith; proud in my uncertainty.
Reorganized in Christ, light cast in, demons left behind;
headlights bleeding through dark neighborhoods.
One more day, another chance to live for God; the whisky priest.
Sobering up, union with Christ; condemnation and grace.
I looked back in her eyes as I had the split decision;
God's deliverance, my humbling.
Same choice, same presence, same responsibility; same grace.
Weary; rest in Christ.
“How often the priest had heard the same confession--Man was so limited: he hadn't even the ingenuity to invent a new vice: the animals knew as much. It was for this world that Christ had died: the more evil you saw and heard about you, the greater the glory lay around the death; it was too easy to die for what was good or beautiful, for home or children or civilization--it needed a God to die for the half-hearted and the corrupt.”
― Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory (1940)
