Most People

I hear all the time–“Most people are good.” There’s even a country song about it.
Most People Are Good

I don’t believe this. Most people aren’t good. Most people are selfish. Hurtful. Say the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. THINK the wrong thing. Cut each other off in traffic. Scream at their kids. Act impatiently. Demand perfection, yet fall short in every single way a human can because…simply because we are not Jesus H. Christ. (the H stands for Herbert, betcha didn’t know that)

Most people are spiritually bankrupt. In fact, all people. In fact, me. I have no currency to enter heaven or even behave in a Godly way. Because I’m human. But thank God that he left us his Holy Spirit. To inhabit our lives so that we may be those good people we tell everyone we are.

I believe that most people wouldn’t murder someone. I believe most people wouldn’t steal. I believe that most people wouldn’t set a bag of poo on fire on their neighbor’s porch. If that’s what you mean by good. But come on. THAT’s the bare minimum. That doesn’t make you a good person.

Most people are people. Meaning–most people are human. All people are human. Except Mark Zuckerberg and Nicolas Cage.

An old woman came up to me last night, after the show, and poked my belly. She said, “That’s not you.” I don’t know what she meant, but I assured her THAT was all me.

I’ve lost so much weight. I have mucho excess skin. It still looks like I carry quite a few extra pounds. My legs are saggy. I basically have a saggy meat apron where my stomach should go. I don’t mind. I feel great. But to have someone poke your belly? Well, that’s just downright mean.

People have been saying all kinds of mean things to me lately. I try not to let it bother me. But this is exactly why, for years, I insulated myself with food. Extra fat. Isolated from community. Refused to love other people because I didn’t want to be hurt over and over. Protected my vulnerability and extra sensitivity. Avoided confrontation because I was ill-equipped to deal with people’s ignorance and arrogance. Unable to say completely what I wanted for fear of never stopping.

Where does some old woman get off poking me in the belly? Most people are dicks. But I don’t have to be. The only way I can be saved. The only way I can claim goodness. To accept the Holy Spirit each and every day and cling to his providence of fruits. Then my vine shall blossom.


God fill me with your holiness. The Spirit of your Son. So that I may love this depraved world. Let me complete your work. That is my purpose. That is my strength. That is my whole reason for living. For your sake. For our collective sake. Amen.

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Have it your way

Hypocrites always tell you
How to live your life.
But do you ever see them
Taking their own advice?

Know-it-alls: dime a dozen.
Always telling you what to do.
How to do it, where to go,
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!”

These type of people
Live their life in fear.
Able to see others’ mistakes,
But their own quickly disappear.

If you really did know it all,
Perhaps you would realize–
Nobody likes “I told you so.”
Unwise to self-aggrandize.

You’re toxic and arrogant.
Selfish and impolite.
But somehow, in your opinion,
You’ve always got it right.

Riding high upon your horse
Must make you pretty sore.
Above it all, until you fall.
It’s going to hurt worse when you hit the floor.

I would offer you some charitable words,
But I assume they are not prized.
So I’ll just say, “Have it your way.”
Alone and rather surprised.

Footprints

I love the story Footprints in the Sand. If you haven’t read it, go read it now. I grew up with this story on my mother’s wall. It was a pretty picture with the prose mounted in a frame. Did you know that no one claims ownership of this story? Author unknown. That’s kinda cool, too.

I know some people might think it’s cliched. But that’s only because it was so popular. Read it again though. As if reading for the first time. It’s still good because there’s a surprise. Good writing has a surprise.


There are more than just two sets
Of footprints on my beach
There are prints everywhere you look
As far as the eye can reach

One set for God
One set for me
A thousand sets for everyone else
Who has walked along my sea

I don’t do life alone
And the sand is never smooth
Loving other people
Requires one to move


Evidence of life
Is not a car/house/money
It is well-worn shoes

Making People

Each of these people
Were made by two parents.
Molded and shaped
By opinions, thoughts and variants.

These two people
Made four more humans.
They didn’t do it perfectly.
In fact, our family’s in ruins.

Their legacy was not premeditated.
Their good intentions paved the way,
To Hell and back and there again–
Four lanes without delay.

This kiss and marriage caught some place
Between Heaven and Hell.
A dark, rock-hard place between their love
Is where my childhood fell.

Like a photograph that floats down
Behind a dresser, trapped by wall.
Forgotten with time, buried by dust.
Neglected, unseen by all.

But.

Their love made me.
Shouldn’t I be thankful for this?
I couldn’t think of something more lovely
Than a passionate wedding kiss.

Thankful to be here. No matter what.