I wanted to ask you…

I wrote this a couple years ago. I’m not sure if I want to call this a poem, though. More like a slightly rhymey mumblefest.

I never intended it to be read, but only heard and seen. It makes a lot more sense when I perform it. But since this is a blog, it’s going to appear here in a written form. Cool? Cool.

I tried to use punctuation and spacing to sorta kinda-ish represent how it might sounds if you heard it spoken. Almost. I tried. It probably will not make much sense unless you really play along with with the indicaed pauses and whatnot.

Imagine these are the words of a slightly awkward, fumbly-tongued young man who’s quite sure about his own thoughts and feelings but worried that they might not be acceptable to someone else. He’s trying to say some simple words but finding only complicated ones. So… um… yeah. I wrote this.

Here’s the one I call “I wanted to ask you…”

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Third-world, first-century Jesus doesn’t understand my worries. Oh, wait. Yes he does.

One day last week, I woke up quite anxious, fretting about the day and sorta about my life in general. Naturally, I turned to the most popular passage about worry to glean some help from Jesus’ words. To my surprise, I found it not helpful at all. He totally missed the mark with what I was feeling. Here’s the passage:

Matthew 6:25-26, 31-32 … Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father Continue reading