A poor perception of Christianity
is the ongoing failure of the Faith
to treat all people evenly within…
a circle of inclusion; who will see

past the shortcomings of humanity,
in order to spiritually grow? Ideas
of our accountability, accompanied
by genuine, personal responsibility

dictate that we treat every soul
in the same manner of Love, without
thoughts of the trivial attributes
that separate us; under the control

of God’s Kingdom, we remain equals.
Since we’re supposed to serve one
another, shouldn’t we help everyone
with a mandate to perform God’s will?

God is aware of the ugliness
of our sin; not confessing to
Him, ensures that misery will
replace our joy; seriousness

of the Human condition should
not be an excuse that keeps us
from reaching out to Him in a
prayer of repentance. Could

we allow… known imperfections
to define us, when forgiveness
is readily available? How can
we choose to dismiss Salvation

when we possess His holy breath
and the chance to escape Death?

When will Humanity shed…
his blinders of ignorance?
Salvation can’t be found…
outside of Christ’s death
and glorious resurrection.
Can our inherit arrogance,

which is questionably based
on the accumulation of data
that’s carefully culled, be
worth a future without God?
Nothing we claim, stops Him
from being the Alpha & Omega.

The theologian's heart sits heavy in his chest.
He has searched, sought, and out-thought the best.
Yet, he has nothing to show for his quest but gray hairs and a book nest.

Scoffers scoff as scoffers do.
Such is expected, for the Way is few.

The theologian needs not a pat on the back.
Nor gold, for he has no lack.

He knows that of making books there is no end,
He has no credit by which to lend.

Still he writes, and still he reads
Still he taps, and still he kneads

Until his heavy heart stops beating.
Now he'll see if his theology was fleeting.
Such it was if not God he's meeting and if not Christ he's greeting.

There are times that I take You for granted,
But You still stay with me and that’s what You wanted.
I hurt You so many times,
But in me Your love still shines.

There came to a point that I doubted You,
But You still want to make me new.
You keep proving me that You want me,
And that You always want to be.

You never leave my side,
Though I sometimes go out and be wild.
You never grew tired of me,
Though I keep on disobeying Thee.

Forgive me for always disappointing You,
And please help me to always let You.
I admit I can’t do this alone,
Even most of the times I do things on my own.

Thank You and just please keep being patient with me,
I know by faith, because and for You being tamed I will surely be.

There He lay in the grave. Nay, but not for long.
The Author of life had been written death.
The light of God engulfed by the darkness of men.
For three days, darkness appeared victorious. But such was an illusion.
There exists no real victory in darkness, no true triumph in evil.
The temporary rule of wrong is always doomed.
And on that day when He arose, 'twas a reminder for those--who three days earlier had delivered blows--that while God's light may grow dim, it cannot be extinguished at the Devil's whim.