Oh, To Be Right
When religion confines
to be right or be kind,
I hope I choose love every time.
It’s a lesson I’ve learned in my life.
For I could be spending
all day defending
the doctrines I’m taught to believe.
But would anyone listen to me?
They seem to shut down
when I put my foot down
to step up in proving I’m right.
So is it really worth picking a fight?
Or maybe there’s more
than righteous-waged wars
with shoot outs and entrenched beliefs,
while bodies pile up in the streets.
Perhaps to be brave
is to strip all away
until I am left with bare love.
Could a vulnerable heart be enough?
What if I found
true common ground,
to know you and also be known?
What if new seeds could be sown?
Could we grow a connection,
to heal life’s infections
by listening and seeing and being?
What if that is life’s meaning?
To get satisfaction
from truth lived through actions
that help you to find your own way.
No need to force what I say.
Perhaps all the words
that need to be heard
are best simply spoken through love.
What if that was enough?
Author’s Notes:
My heart was grieved.
A friend who is a Christian had posted a very long comment on someone’s Facebook page listing all the ways their beliefs were wrong.
I’d like to assume it was well meant. But it’s just embarrassing.
Their argument will accomplish nothing.
The two people didn’t even have a personal relationship. No trust formed. No open door for honest and productive conversation.
Just a religious person shouting at another religious person.
On the internet.
For everyone else to see.
Like a dysfunctional neighborhood family out in the middle of the street yelling and throwing garbage at each other.
Meanwhile, there’s a world in need of love and healing–watching.
