This is the line – crossed.

This is the line – crossed. This is the line where twisted hallelujah jargon and uninterrupted curses merge into one. This is the breaking point where there is an absence of humor in the punch line. Lighthearted laughter does not come easily but sarcasm and sighs run deeply within my grain. I long for goodness and a pure heart, like those God-fearing, church-going Christians, but I stand upon a three-legged pedestal, off-kilter with the rest. I have never existed well within perfect, little circles. They seem to close others out and shut down those within. I prefer arcs – wide, sweeping and massive embraces of kindness and tolerance that are never afraid to let others come and go as they please. There, language is free, unencumbered words having their say. And there, actions are both maddening and graceful with no question of form or propriety. Consequences, yes; but no judgments, and faith has no standard measure. I could live there forever, communing and loving at my heart’s desire. And despite being so terribly human, irregular and damned, forgiveness would still be mine for the keeping. Amen.


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