Wednesday, February 6, 2013


Ah, the four walls of Jesus' domain for the believers are upon me.

 The pastor comes in after a rousing song of sweet praise for the Lord. Pastor walks over, wiping his brow, a look of consternation on his face after a truly beautiful scripture-based lesson on Love was taught. He talked about marriage and divorce, and how the nature of Love is only real if demonstrated by acts that show that person's Love, whether they want to or not. Well, I have to say, he inspired my emotions and made me feel something I hadn't originally felt for my mate. Jubilant yelling interspersed with prayerful listening brought a vibrant ebb and flow to the congregation. Pastor Terry was masterful at getting the group to exalt with vigor and obeisance. Throughout the entire "show," I stolidly glanced around the room, probably feeling just a bit out of place, for I was not raised with Juba dancing, but instead, silent, still reflection. I must've appeared as a monk, with my posture.

After that moment passed, he came down off the pulpit from his yelling, singing and begging us to help him with praise and clapping. "I can't get any help in here!" He'd humorously exclaim. His voice became hushed, and he approached us, looking at us each in the eyes. He called us to believe, and if we wanted to invite Jesus into our life and make a testimony, the time was just then.

Complete silence.

He then asked which of us were going to Heaven, and that we could not believe in anything else but Jesus to get there. After looking around the room, it had appeared that everyone raised their hand, including me, the multi-denominational heathen who didn't have a church home, who wasn't Baptist, who wasn't even Catholic anymore by definition of the church, who was a nonbeliever under the authority of the Baptist church, who was (probably appearing to be) an other god-worshiping, Shamanic journeying (freak?) who has a hard time being told exactly what to was I going to get to Heaven?

The road to Heaven is narrow, and the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. What is the road to having compassion for all people paved with?

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