Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
i only judge myself because i am the only person i truly know.
Institute of Art, Chicago, first floor Modern Wing
i witness you, accept what you deem worthy of me to embrace. all the while i remain absolutely blind to the intricacies of the painting you are.
you may lift the curtain a tad. invite me in and under the mask. allow me to get a little closer. do i know you? are you afraid of me or i of you? do we really even know the other? or bother to know? will i be willing to lift my mask too?
Crow on the Wire has a Sunday confession that sparked varied personal thoughts. i hear because i listen. not sure I understand why politics is as divisive as it is. perhaps it is being set in our ways and feeling comfortable with our habitual years? only changing, transforming, because we finally see the truth. or are we bending truth to match a defined enlightenment? Not sure.
The Chicago Temple, United Methodist Church
In the Choir
i may agree. i may disagree. i may not have an opinion at all about you. rather hide myself discreetly, knowing you won’t bother to understand how i feel. or why i do, as i do.
justice is most important, so, the final verdict given about me is my own to dwell upon. i hand you the privilege of judging yourself too. i decide what needs to change with me in order to be more loving towards you. and i pray your willing as well.
this process of transformation does not work when we judge each other. how i react if you decide not to accept me is my choice. my question then becomes “will i remain in my old ways? and why?” along with wondering why i should change at all.