Lord, Forgive Me For I Have Lived

I pick at my nails, chew on my lip, and clench my fists to safety when someone mentions the need to "be saved by the Lord Jesus." I fight it, it claws my stomach, I had swallowed it whole but now I want to bust it open and burn it down.

Perched in a pew at least three times a week the man in front screamed at my sinful nature -- declaring that only those who found Jesus in THIS building would NOT perish and THAT THIS was the ONLY straight and narrow path.

Consoling self, I try explaining that "self, these people are at an evolutionary level where they need to believe in the things that they do; after all, Jesus had to speak in parables to help them in their understanding" or "self, churches are so fundamental to society -- where would people go for food, shelter, and other support?" But self wants to accept and be accepted - not condemned like Jesus himself. Self ends up gnashing teeth -- ready to wail at even those Christians who are truly kind-hearted and very not worthy of such disrespect.

Self is angry - needs sleep - self needs to get through the rage. Otherwise, self is no better and like those rigid fundamentalists it abhors.