WHO MINISTERS TO THE MINISTER?
We are a specious species
The only ones who lie,
This does not make us special,
In fact, it’s how we die.
The Truth is but a stranger
We glimpse, but shield our eyes
Afraid our dark dissembling
Unmasks our sordid lives.
We shout ‘this is my truth’
As if it’s our invention
In truth, this is a lie
A sort of truth prevention.
We create a fiction
Of who we really are
Hoping no one notices
The role we play so far.
So many poor pretenders
Believing their own pretense
But truth will out some day
Unmasking makes one tense
And what then will you say
Revealed just as you are,
When truth slaps you in the face
Leaving a searing scar?
Or is it a form of healing
The shock of reality’s reach
You’ve suffered long from truth decay
Believe now what you preach.
The maxim ‘physician heal thyself’
Is one you now must heed
Allow the Lord to remake you
To give you what you need.
Yes, a course correction
Take that humility pill
Your future faith is now at stake
For good or for ill.
Repentance is the medicine
For a sin sick soul
Even for a minister
Whether new or old.
The God of second chances
Is stretching out his hand
If you will just take it
You’re still within his plan.
English (US) · 