Blind Faith

I’m searching along the pews

For something I’ve lost 

(I’ve forgotten what)

And as I drop to my knee

To sweep the floor, 

There’s a filthy man lying down there.

I don’t know how he got there,

Because judging by the way

His legs splay out underneath him,

He can’t be much for walking.

But there he is.

His eyes reach toward mine, 

And it’s my ears that pull away.

I’m missing the sermon.

Love my neighbor.

Yep. That’s worth hearing.

Mental note: invite Fred Langston

To monthly BBQ.

I was at his,

After all.

My eyes reach up for the pastor’s,

As his plunge down.

Down to the–

To my horror,

My youngest one Grace

Has toddled her way over to

The filthy  man on the ground.

Their eyes embrace,

And I know now

I should have left 

That kid in Sunday school.

I will the pastor

To look up from 

The spectacle on the ground.

But he’s stopped the sermon.

And just about everyone

(Probably)

Sees what happens next.

Grace pulls that man up

DURING SERVICE.

Pulls that man to his feet.

And the man’s legs are 

Straightened out, I guess.

But what really matters is that 

It’s Sunday 

and we’re in church

And pastor stopped preaching 

And everyone’s staring.

“And this was why the Jews were persecuting Jesus, because He was doing these things on the Sabbath.”

John 5:16 

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