Personal "Poem"

Yesterday in Pastoral Formation we talked about forgiveness; how it is one of the requirements of being a part of the Christian community. We talked about different ways of expressing our pains, of going about giving/receiving forgiveness. It made me think of a piece I wrote- I actually thought it was older than it is, but oh well. I don't know if it counts as poetry or if it's just a letter of sorts. I think I am hoping that by putting up here, it will help me to move on. I don't know. But here it is.

9.24.2009

To All the Men That Have Hurt Me-
I f*cking hate you.
There, I said it.
I hate you.
You all took things from me you had no right to take.
It was not your right,it was not your choice to make.
It was mine.
And you took that away from me.
You left me broken and afraid, unable to trust.
You left me full of doubts.
You left me with small pieces of me that I won't ever get back.
And I hate you for that.
I am afraid when men make sexual advances.
I shut down when I should burn with passion.
I don't trust people's intentions.
I don't trust myself.
But I can't hate you forever.
Eventually I have to forgive you.
With God's help, I must forgive you.
But it's not that simple
I fail to see how forgiving you will help me.
And, although I am supposed to love you as a child of God,
I sure as hell don't want to.
I am consumed by memories and fear, so much so that I cannot look at one who resembles you.
So:
names ommitted
and any others that may exist past my memory-

I want my pieces back.

Because I need to be at peace.

All Saint's Sermon

Yes, yes, I know All Saint's Day was weeks ago. I hesitate to even post this still, so much time has gone by, but I've decided to do it anyway.
On November 1 I gave the sermon at the church I am currently serving. Like many pastors, Saturday morning dawned and I did not have a single word on paper. While in the shower, I figured out my sermon outline, intending on writing it as soon as I got finished. However, life got in the way, and it was several hours later before I was able to sit down to write my sermon. By then, all my thoughts had left me, and I was left staring blankly at my computer screen. Taking the advice of a friend, I headed home and back to my place of inspiration: the shower. This was the result:


I think for Christmas I would like those special markers you can get children to play with in the tub...

The final version of my sermon, was, of course, more fleshed out, and not written on my shower wall.

(I was going to post my sermon, but it is rather long...if it would like to read it, let me know, and I will post it).