Stranger to God

"A poem about feeling out of place in the church"

Under the shadow of the church
I’m reminded that I’m a stranger to God
Praying as if I was listening
Praying as if I was dying
Begging for forgiveness with every ounce of breath
In my lungs

I used to lay awake at night
Asking God to forgive my sins of the day
This was a nightly ritual
Clasping my hands together in the basement
And staring up at the stone ceiling
To beg
Literally beg
That I would be admitted to heaven when I died
But my prayers dissipated with the smoke puffing from the chimney’s mouth

If one were to ask me to describe God
I’d tell them he’s like the dog that left a scar on my lip
Utterly convinced that he loved me
I pushed the boundaries of his comfort
And nuzzled my face against his snout to show him my love
Closing my eyes as if praying
Halfway through the begging there’s a snap of teeth
And he’s swallowed my skin while I bleed

I sat on the stairs while my best friend’s father tended to my wounds
Bleeding into a white towel I was left to wonder if anything
Could be trusted

I loved God
But as if I was a stranger
He left me to my wounds on the side of the road
I sat there and I waited for a good Samaritan
Eventually coming to the conclusion that I was all alone in my fight

I visit the church every now and again
I listen to the murmurs of prayers and wonder if God
Remembers the shape of my disproportionate face
I shake the hands of the ones he chose to love
Coming to realize that in every flock of angels there’s a devil
There’s no shame in being the serpent of the flock
It just means God cast you down for being right

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

For something that's supposed to comfort people, religion sure has scared the hell out of a lot of them. The problem is that when men created gods, they made them in their own image.

[Lillian Kirsch]

That's exactly the problem, my friend. A flawed creature can't create perfection

[Chris Shaw]

I gave up on the church. I felt the people there didn’t reflect the true values of Jesus Christ. That included the Vicar and those closest to him. He lost three of us, including my brother and sister. I enjoyed my visit. A really interesting write with great imagery. Pleased to read you.

Chris

[Lillian Kirsch]

Church never suited me, I always felt like somebody who wasn't supposed to be there

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Oh the theme of us takes me down Emily Dickinson's road.
She just tried so hard to believe in something she could not believe in.
She was a stranger to her own religion....to her friends who believed.
I really like the imagery in this poem...
j.

[Lillian Kirsch]

Thank you. I've struggled with the idea of faith my whole life, and eventually grew to feel like a complete stranger to God when I came out as transgender. So I wrote a poem about it