by Ariel Douglas (16 November 2014)

 

All I ever hear you do is complain

You complain about the sun, the snow, and the rain

All I hear you talk about is separation

Each race should only marry in their orientation

You talk about how no one cares what you do

No one in the church works hard but you

"It takes two hours to set it all back up"

You sneer filling another coffee cup

"They moved all my decorations around on the stage"

Your scorn feeds into the other's defensive rage

"Well, you put your decorations where my kids have to stand"

You turn away with the coffee cup in your hand

Behind me I hear "I can't believe you're talking about that in a church"

Well if it's not fit for church, then it's not fit for dirt

You stare at me blankly when I correct you in that

"Well in the privacy of your home it's alright to chat"

But no, that's wrong as well

God hears every quiet secret you tell

At last someone else stands with me in this

"That's right, so end the conversation," you hiss

And now you come trying to impress me

"I just need to get away from him, you see"

But even that is judgmental and rude

I look up and say, "Even that, sir, was crude"

Silence greets me from across the way

And I let it stand, for there's nothing to say

What would Jesus do, you ask?

Well, if for God's glory, He'd redo EVERY task

He'd compromise and have the children stand forward

He'd correct in love and not act untoward

He'd never speak of things

Unfit for a child of the King

He'd love everyone the same

Love's not a choice like playing a game

Because HIS bride is every color and race

He'd toss the tables in this apathetic place

And weep for the insincerity that burns me

Because this place is supposed to be holy

But instead it's full of snivelling children twice my age

Because for them Christianity is a stage