Poetry

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i can't call myself a christian anymore.
i haven't changed, but the word's meaning has.
i don't chant overused phrases written by someone else to the lifeless hammering of monotonous two-chord songs and call it worship;
joy dances from my pen or explodes from my vocal chords when it grows too large to be contained in my body and forms praise.
my ears listen intently for the intent in others' speech rather than the amount of profanity in it, and my eyes search for passion rather than flaws.
God reveals Himself to me, weaving through "secular" music and art that explores the vivid hues He created, until He finds a peaceful spot in poetry that begs for change.
i don't follow the orders of a human pastor, or an inked copy of "God's word," translated and retranslated by man's hand, crippled by sin.
i am not a christian.
i am a Christ follower.
i long to be like the man that washed sinners' feet;
the man that died for those who opposed Him;
the man who followed his own heart and what God said to Him and told the priests that they too had flaws;
i follow the man who said, "turn the other cheek;"
the man that said, "do not point out the dust in someone's eye when you have a log in your own eye;"
the man who looked at the thieves, murderers, liars, prostitutes, drug addicts, homosexuals, and even christians and said,"Today you will be with me in paradise."
we seem to have lost the entire meaning.
Christ was born because of His mercy and love;
He died because of His mercy and love;
He lives because of His mercy and Love;
but christianity uses Him as a weapon, beating away anyone with a belief slightly different from its own.
i refuse to be a part of that.
every thought in my mind turns away in disgust at the idea of inflicting emotional pain in the name of God
i choose to be a follower of Christ.

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