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Sunday, January 9, 2011


Hey. Does this poem sound too preachy? Be honest.

Whenever you step out of the shadows and into the light, where I can see the trail of tears streaming down your cheeks, you have no idea how much I ache to throw my arms around you and tell you it's going to be okay.
I so desperately want to tell you everything happens for a reason and you are loved more than you could ever imagine and, please, just have faith.
But I know you don't want my Bleeding Heart Christian Candy because you're allergic to my opinion and my religion, and you'd much rather play the Blame Game.
So, let's play:
My worst days are not God's fault.
They're mine for letting them get to me.
Our best friends getting hit by a drunk driver and dying are not God's fault.
It's the drunk drivers for knowing better but choosing the worst choice anyway.
All the evil in the world and in history is not God's fault.
It's ours and our ancestors' for putting it there.
The fact that you've experienced so much trauma and tragedy that you no longer believe in God is not God's fault.
It's yours for not knowing enough to know that sometimes horrible things just happen because people just make stupid decisions regardless of what God plans or wants for you.
The best time of your life starts when you stop blaming God and everyone else for your problems and accept Their help in dealing with them.
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