Today It is my great honor to present to you dear reader a poem submitted by a member of the community. CL Beacon is a long time supporter of Christian Futurism here on Substack, and he has requested a platform for his work here. Please greet his writing with an open heart and mind. Thank you, and God Bless!
"Welcome all, please come inside,"
said the usher at the door,
"You are most welcome in God's house,
simply wipe your shoes at the door.
"This is the place you want to be,
if your soul is dying fast;
Come and meet the man whose blood
can erase your entire past."
Well, I was just passing by,
but the usher's words intrigued me:
How could a man whose blood forgives
change my whole life so easily?
So up I strode, right to the gates,
of that small, holy temple,
Hoping I might find some peace
in an evil world -- that simple.
"Excuse me, sir, I'd like to know
this man that you profess,
if he will wash away my past,
I'm weary of regret."
"Why certainly, you're welcome here,
this place is truly grand.
Today you've made the right choice, friend,
now let me shake your hand.
"Oh, but first, please wipe your feet,
cause there's a lot of dirt:
we wouldn't want filth in God's house,"
the usher nodded, reassured.
Scratch went one shoe, then the next,
then I tried to step inside.
That was, until the usher stopped me,
with sympathetic eyes.
"Sir," he whined, "I'm very sorry,
but I must ask one more thing.
That necklace that hangs around your neck
pollutes the air God brings.
"We cannot inhale such foul air
in our dear Lord's sanctuary.
To think of breathing near that sin
would be extraordinary."
"Alright, I give -- here take this chain,
it's not that big a'deal."
Again I strived to enter in
to see if God was really real.
"But nay, kind sir, I am inclined
to stop you now once more.
I'm sad to say the tattoos you bear
will not grant you access indoors."
"What do you mean 'the tattoos I beard?
These markings on my skin?
They have become a piece of my life,
I won't part with them to enter in."
"Don't worry, dear sir, and do not fret,
For I've got just the thing:
If you will take this jacket here,
it will act as a covering.
"Your sorry sight will not be judged,
you'll look like one of us.
You'll be accepted with arms open wide
As the congregation offers its trust."
"Fine, I'll take this covering alone,
and that will be the last.
Now step aside so I can meet the man
who can erase my past."
"But sir, we haven't even started;
your clothes, your beard, the sight!
Unless you change and follow suit
you'll surely never see the light."
Anger shame, and guilt and disgust
bubbled and burst in my heart.
I stood there in a state of great unbelief;
but all flames start with a spark.
"That's it! Now that's the final straw,
I won't stand this anymore.
I will not change a single ounce
to make it in your doors.
"Your nonsense rules and your babbling on,
I already know your 'Truth:'
the truth is you won't let me in
until I look and act like you!"
"But sir," the usher began to say,
"Shut up, you've lost all claim
to tell me of your so-called God
or of his precious name!"
And on that note I tromped away,
still living in my sin,
Away from that holy house of God
that would never have let Jesus in.
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