"Maybe your bullhorn is in your home where you preach so people will do what you want them to do and do things the way you want them to be done." ~Pastor Mark Waltz
(fist to mouth)"Oh, snap!" ~Me
I look at you, bullhorn guy, from a safe distance
Rolling my eyes at your angry persistence.
Did you just skip all those verses on grace?
How can you scream with that look on your face?
You warn them that they will all go to hell
If they don't listen to the "good news' you tell.
What good news? That God is coming to "get" them?
That there's some cosmic Santa Claus waiting to condemn?
Telling them all what's wrong with their lives
Advertizing their faults like a set of Ginzu knives.
But then my hand slips and I notice the cut
My teeth hiss breathing in and I realize what's what.
My day flashes back in these quick little scenes
"I told you the living room is not the place for Jeans!!!"
"Lauren, don't do that, you're making a mess!"
"Don't you know towels go on permanent press?"
"I can't believe you're late. Why didn't you call?"
"Play with your daughter instead of watching football!"
Like driving in the rain, I suddenly can't see
For the one holding the bullhorn--is me.
Forgive me, Lord, for letting the guise of perfection
Dictate my thoughts like a hidden infection.
Let love rule my home like the house on the prairie
No more Martha, I want to be Mary.
"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." Luke 10: 38-42