It was saddening and upsetting to see happen at our church this Christmas,
Was there a member of the congregation sidelined by traditional plans/actions when they had something they wanted to contribute in spite of struggling with their faith
A Jonah moment?
(It’s gone way beyond that…)
Im drowning in these thoughts,
Trying to reject them
Trying not let them ferment
Infest, poison everything,
Try as I might to ignore them,
A tidal wave overwhelms me
Feel like I’m drowning
In confusion and pain!
You see,
I’m sat at the back of the church
Waiting,
Wanting to contribute…
Watching the same old same old
By the same old, same old…
“The programme is quite full right now?
May be next year”
We’re on a tight schedule,
it’s all been sorted out!
Whatever,
I tried to contribute,
To pay my part,
Ok, I know what I have
to share won’t win any awards,
but,
That comment
Hit me hard,
deflated me,
Put me in that place where
Negative feelings overwhelms me
I’m just tolerated…
I see it in their eyes,
That glazed look,
The monosyllabic conversations,
That makes me feel not welcome, alienated
not part of the ‘In Crowd’
I don’t want to be a preacher,
or lead the worship band,
But I thought there might just be a moment, a little corner,
A little time for me to contribute something I wrote?
What hoops do I have to jump through?
What is it that I have to do
to be recognised,
At my age,
who knows how many years, weeks, days I’ve got left,
Might not be around next time
To contribute
What’s the point?
This time next tear
I maybe only a shadow,
A distant memory,
A faded mark on the paint work
where I once stood,
people wondering
Who made that mark?
Where did it come from?
As hope fades
I just give up,
melt into the background,
Be insignificant
the invisible soul at the end of the row
Just sitting here unnoticed twiddling my thumbs
Waiting for that chance,
That chance to contribute,
Won’t hold my breath hoping, don’t know which will happen first,
Just sit here til it’s my turn for heaven
(That’s If I don’t get slide-lined from that as well?)
Will I be missed? doubt it,
With me gone they’ll be able to get on…
Shall I not bother going to church
say ‘goodbye world’?
Or just watch the service on line
While fiddling with my phone?
Will I only be appreciated
when I’m six foot under?
Will I be remembered then?
Or will I just be a postscript at the bottom of the notices?
An addendum
One of those…
“Before I forget”?
You know “what’s his name?”
Don’t bother trying to rally around…
Damage done…
It’s too late,
Just leave me under the withering fig tree
Fading away…
Not pointing the finger
portioning blame…
Rant over
See you the other side
Of this pity party…
Maybe…
Was there a member of the congregation sidelined by traditional plans/actions when they had something they wanted to contribute in spite of struggling with their faith
A Jonah moment?
(It’s gone way beyond that…)
Im drowning in these thoughts,
Trying to reject them
Trying not let them ferment
Infest, poison everything,
Try as I might to ignore them,
A tidal wave overwhelms me
Feel like I’m drowning
In confusion and pain!
You see,
I’m sat at the back of the church
Waiting,
Wanting to contribute…
Watching the same old same old
By the same old, same old…
“The programme is quite full right now?
May be next year”
We’re on a tight schedule,
it’s all been sorted out!
Whatever,
I tried to contribute,
To pay my part,
Ok, I know what I have
to share won’t win any awards,
but,
That comment
Hit me hard,
deflated me,
Put me in that place where
Negative feelings overwhelms me
I’m just tolerated…
I see it in their eyes,
That glazed look,
The monosyllabic conversations,
That makes me feel not welcome, alienated
not part of the ‘In Crowd’
I don’t want to be a preacher,
or lead the worship band,
But I thought there might just be a moment, a little corner,
A little time for me to contribute something I wrote?
What hoops do I have to jump through?
What is it that I have to do
to be recognised,
At my age,
who knows how many years, weeks, days I’ve got left,
Might not be around next time
To contribute
What’s the point?
This time next tear
I maybe only a shadow,
A distant memory,
A faded mark on the paint work
where I once stood,
people wondering
Who made that mark?
Where did it come from?
As hope fades
I just give up,
melt into the background,
Be insignificant
the invisible soul at the end of the row
Just sitting here unnoticed twiddling my thumbs
Waiting for that chance,
That chance to contribute,
Won’t hold my breath hoping, don’t know which will happen first,
Just sit here til it’s my turn for heaven
(That’s If I don’t get slide-lined from that as well?)
Will I be missed? doubt it,
With me gone they’ll be able to get on…
Shall I not bother going to church
say ‘goodbye world’?
Or just watch the service on line
While fiddling with my phone?
Will I only be appreciated
when I’m six foot under?
Will I be remembered then?
Or will I just be a postscript at the bottom of the notices?
An addendum
One of those…
“Before I forget”?
You know “what’s his name?”
Don’t bother trying to rally around…
Damage done…
It’s too late,
Just leave me under the withering fig tree
Fading away…
Not pointing the finger
portioning blame…
Rant over
See you the other side
Of this pity party…
Maybe…