Cotton Candy Rainbow

“Oh, what a terrible honor it's been to learn that my blessings are things you call sins.” - Semler

~

Dear God,

I know you handcrafted me in Your image,


yet for the longest spin around this merry-go-round


I assumed this one piece was the exception


to the glorious rule of being Yours and only Yours.

So, I hid it and ran from it and pretended it


out of existence as if destroying my beating heart


would provide the only path to true, agape love.

Many of them would tell me to pray it away,


but I can promise you if that option worked,


I gave my Savior every chance to erase


what felt too complicated to embrace.

I would have continued down any path


for another answer, would have cut out


any number of chunks of who I am


if the One whose judgment matters asked me,

but somewhere in the mess


of digging feet in and holding tightly


to the complacent comfort of everyone else’s two cents,


I lost Your reflection not because of my identity


but by letting heretics take up space and define


the uniquely, wonderfully, fearfully made soul


You selected to inhabit this vessel You crafted for me.

I forsook the majesty of Your Infiniteness,


mistook You as scarce not an abundant expanse,


and forgot their fear-mongering is not truth.

I listened to the world and its false prophets,


instead of bending down on weary knees


to listen to the resonance of soft, quiet pleas.

Some loved to use me as a punchline


or a scapegoat for their hate.

Others chose to point me like a weapon,


now I’m just a martyr for their cause.

Yet when my veins spilled open,


none of them stopped to question


what they had done,


uplifting side one,


while stomping on the other letters


because the SSS Ally


preferred lectures to lessons,


and built their own boxes


of what we can or cannot be,


the places we can or cannot seize.

But Lord, Your universal eternity


cannot fit into any shape


these Pharisees shove you in,

they will try minimizing


or manipulating for their own aggrandizing,


but given two paths, I will always walk in humility.

They uplift a binary,


night or day with no room


for dawn, dusk, and the in-between.

Yet I never liked the claustrophobia


of tight, limited expectations.

Because the beauty of a broken,


baffling, bejeweled band of misfits

battling the blight of Biblical mistranslations

is the bewildering beacon of the beginning


where brief abridgment of the otherwise


endlessly limitless befuddled the beggars


who bequeathed their backward, belittled


besiegement of Your biopic


Yet You blessed me with belonging


in my absconding from presumption


when my dual reality of bisexuality


became not a burden to bear


but a benediction from my greatest best friend

by my side to the blissful end.

So, I thank You for building me into Your balanced, beguiling, boundless beloved.

In the name of Jesus,


Amen. Amen. And Amen.