Faith

I feel almost blasphemous being here,

A non-believer sitting in the Lord’s house

…I only came because of you

Everyone says faith is intangible, invisible,

But I can see yours in your expression

I hear it in the passion in your voice

I know you feel Him here with you and,

Watching you, I almost wish I felt it too

I have faith, but only in…myself,

In myself, and maybe in you

Just not in wonderful ideas that seem

Too damn good to be true

If having faith in my own father failed me,

How can I believe in one that is somehow three?

I was raised to be my own rock,

To lean on no one but myself

The pastor, he’s asking people to come up

People like me, Godless, Churchless folk

To come accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior

I see you, head bowed, eyes closed

And I wonder if you’re praying that I go up

I don’t…understand

How can you ask me to do this?

How can you have given yourself over so wholly?

What proof, what reassurance, do you have?

…I already know what your response will be:

This faith, this beautiful faith that I can see

The faith that makes me so uncomfortable,

For there burns no fire in my heart,

And I live my life to live, not to worship

And I’ve made it this far, made it here

What could be harder than these first almost-twenty years?

Disquieted, really, for the things I would give my life for

Are the things that make me…me

Are things I can reach out and touch, can see

…And a voice in the back of my mind reminds me

That I can see your faith.