For everyone at Cal Baptist University, thanks so much for having me! And here is one of the pieces I read today... Standing rigid on pews creaking within my chest, Ive got a choir of uniformed urchins squealing stale hymns about the books I should like, who I should admire, who I ought to be, and who should admire me. Hijackers in halos, they strip me of my beliefs, and replace them with the overstuffed, overpuffed rhetoric of cold souls wandering, souls whove never set foot inside my home, inside my bones. But I have. Day after day, I wander and sort through endless piles stacked high across my heart, but Im not sure any of these files belong to me anymore. Someone elses head staked wooden atop my shoulders, I know what Im supposed to think, but cant remember the last time I thought for myself. If I do, will you lock me up? And if I dont, arent I locking myself up? Tell me, when did disagreement become criminal? And whats the sentence for not seeing it your way? Most opinions deserve to be forgotten, most butchers masquerade as beauties, and honesty is often an outlawed language. Not all angels wear white, not all devils have horns, and not all mistakes should be avoided. Because struggle is where church really happens, and imagination calls us into the places our past warns us not to go. So isnt it time that I open some of these doors? I knock and I knock and I knock. But no one seems to answer. Perhaps I dont know the right question. I wonder: is anyone really listening? Am I not shouting loud enough? Or can my tongue not annunciate proper the magical words? Love is a hint of heaven, but sometimes it feels more like a tease. Pitchforks and perfection, messengers, maniacs, and miracles, dueling maestros: Ive seen God, Ive seen the devil. And Im not always sure which is which. So am I visually impaired? Or do those two often appear more similar than I care to admit?
Posted on: Sat, 05 Apr 2014 01:44:41 +0000
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