You say I say-by Susan Thomas

You say God is dead.

I say He is alive.

You say science is the explanation.

I say science and god complete each other.

You say his existence cannot be proven.

I say it is not possible to prove he doesn’t.

You say the church brainwashed me.

I say you don’t understand church.

Church is a place of support and acceptance.

It gives you a choice.

I simply chose to believe what they said.

You say prayer is a public threat.

I say why are you afraid?

You say Christian media somehow is offensive.

I ask why does it scare you?

Why do you protest,

if you don’t believe.

Why does our choice of entertainment,

or personal belief offend you so?

A book about atheism,

does not bother me.

You spouting your nonbelief,

on your precious mountain top,

does not bother me.

If what you see offends…

don’t look.

If what you hear offends…

don’t listen.

If  a person offends…

don’t pay them attention.

I respect your choice of nonbelief.

Can you respect my choice to believe,

as a simple courtesy.

Stop throwing your words at me,

and tune out the posers…

who give people with a religion a bad name.

You say my religion is full of hate.

You point at gay protests and times in history,

as your concrete proof.

I say since when does media portray the truth?

Media refuses to show the Christian…

shaking their fist in fury,

at such hateful posers.

I believe in love.

I embrace the gay and oppressed.

I believe in grace.

I know God embraces all.

I believe in forgiveness.

My sins are no better than yours.

You say you had a bad experience.

I would kindly remind you,

that I am not them.

I remind you…

all have committed the atrocious crime…

of doing great harm…

with the best of intentions…

unaware of the destruction in our wake.

My belief is a choice.

My belief is a way of life.

A gift…

that is hard to grasp.

Which is why I suppose,

so many reject it.

You know what I believe.

You know its high standards.

I try my best,

but remain human.

I am sorry to say,

I will never reach perfect.

I will never be pure.

I ask you judge me…

not on my failures,

but on what I did right.

I ask you judge me,

and not the stereotype,

you cling to so tightly.

I am me.

I am unique.

Not a cut out,

meant to fit your idea,

of what is Christian.