Something about the word church
Conjures images or nice clothes
And fixed hair and
Completely put together people
Well, that’s all nice, but
The God Who lives in me
Isn’t so into appearances
He lives inside and works
From the inside out
And I can honestly say
The whole put together look
Is a human construct
Because it says right
In my Bible that not
A single one of us
Really has it together,
Not even a little.
I’m sitting in a pew
And looking around
At a bunch of people
As messed up as me
I’m wearing shorts
There’re a lot of feet
Bare-toed in countless flip flops
And the kids all wiggle around
Their hair sticking up
Giggling and making faces
Church is about us
The messed up people
Getting together to learn
About our unbroken God


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