You count the sins

you see the death that they bring

It makes you look down upon yourself

and others

as you ‘joyously’ sing

 

You punish yourself

you throw yourself down at the altar

begging and pleading

You are prayed over

babbling and believing

then, told to catch up on your reading

 

It’s time to feel terrible again

time for the preacher to condemn

Pass the plate

Feeling the hate

when your offerings are slim

 

During the week

you are an empty shell

Nothing but trials are what you know

You memorize the verse

and you’d better rehearse

the front for the Sunday show

 

Oh, those sins

you cannot let the world see

What would they say?

Behind the doors you crumble

tumble and fumble

You ask yourself, “Why, God, do you not see me today?”

 

My friend, He is with you

closer than you know

Those temples are not His home

He is everywhere

In everything, He dwells

Under the cover of each stone

 

My brother, sister, He is in you

loud and clear, He can tell you

Do you not hear the voice?

Is His Word muffled with a religious righteousness

or silenced by the denomination

or the sect of your choice?

 

You will never earn that place

You cannot grasp His grace

Stop trying to appease

When you see the cross

and see the place He took for the perfection we’ve lost

you’ll know that God is well pleased

 

Love thy God, neighbor and self

Those are the greatest of His commands

When we allow those things to be at the center of our hearts

We’ll be able to see His plans