Perhaps this preacher is self-assured
because he’s oblivious
to all he didn’t earn.
He shoves me condemnation,
though I’m not sure why.
I’ve slowly learned
not to obey this anxiety he sells me
for the price of my soul.
Weekly, I reassure myself
that I would obey a better voice,
but in fear I ask, if my faith
only soothes, does it lack works, dead?
This day, I finally grasp
that if this white man isn’t god,
and the oily logic from this pulpit isn’t god’s words,
not only is rejection and action in and of itself,
but there’s been no call in these seats
to ever have obeyed.
I recall my faith’s response
in places where the truth’s proclaimed,
and I will watch the rest I come to do
as I continue to listen, hear,
understand and grow,
and as, for such places, I go.
π YOUR!!! “Faith” is in YOU!!! EveryOne and it May Take A While; but YOU!!! Will Remember YOUR!!! “Faith” in YOURSELF!!! EveryBody
…πππ…
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Thanks for the love! β€
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π YOU!!! ARE Welcome SupaSoulSis ππΏ ; as Goddess and God Concur Concurrently π ππΏ β€οΈ
…πππ…
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[…] Lydia Rae Bush’s “Alphabet Ravine,” “Assurance.“ […]
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Thank you, Chuck!
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Fabulous. This stanza resonates hard – Iβve slowly learned
not to obey this anxiety he sells me
for the price of my soul.
Thank you.
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Thank you!
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