i am a sinner. (this is for you, my friend)

my heart is heavy tonight. a place i called home for so long, a place i grew up in, asked Jesus to be my Savior in, it is a place becoming less familiar and more of just a building where people gather.
i have always looked at church as a safe place. the one place i could run to when the world turned into a tornado, sweeping me up in its lies. a sanctuary where i could pour out the most inward confessions of this sinners life. to show the ugly parts of me and not be judged but to actually have people say "you are among friends."
but i am learning every church is not this way. not even the place i once knew. some churches turn away sinners. because they are "willfully living in sin." my response to this is, arent we all? dont misunderstand me. i try to be better. every day i rely on His grace and mercy and i try to be better. but i am a sinner by nature. passed down to me from generation to generation. i sin every day. i react out of anger. i lie out of fear. i rely too much on what other people think of me. i have impure thoughts. i am murderous, envious, judgmental, and i am a sinner.
so is it because my sin isnt out in the open, laid bare for all to see? is it because i am not a whore in the marketplace trying to sell myself to the highest bidder? and if all of our struggles, the ones in the deepest crevices of our hearts, were spilled out for public viewing... then would we too be kicked out of the Fathers house?



Wedding Dress -Derek Webb
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all Id ever need
or is there more Im looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
But I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
and I run down the aisle
Im a prodigal with no way home
but I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I dont trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
a husbands jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife