I am not you
Baptist preacher,
Pentecostal screamer,
charismatic dreamer.
I am called to be
a Truth teller,
pastor, preacher,
evangelist and teacher,
a portent and surprise,
not least of all to myself.
Why, O why did I
think I had to become
just another one:
from emergent iconoclastic,
to purpose driven plastic.
Because I need to be
liked.
Who wants to be
ignored?
Not me.
So I try to fit in,
but I’m still locked out.
I reach the rejected,
who, once empowered, leave
to join the ranks of the respected.
I cannot make them all happy!
I cannot even be
who they expect me to be.
O, Yahweh,
set me free to be
me, just me:
not who they think
they need me to be,
not who my feelings,
inspired by the Liar,
lead me to believe I am,
but the me I am
when the Son of Man
lives within,
and I remain in HIm.
I am who I am
by the grace of the I AM.