Hmm

The first row. Altaring within reach. A chance at change, redemption.

If somebody would just ask me what I believe maybe I'd find myself giving the answer.

Church, a time of reflection. Christian, not Churchian. Where were the fanciful garments or gold plates or not letting people marry because of a passage in Leviticus in that gospel?

Wait. A new induction into the order.

Raise your arm, the right hand of man. And readings and repeatings of church church church stop stop stop say something about love.

I can imagine through the Fyodors a Jesus return and a strange conversation to follow. The bottom is not where the problem lies. Try looking up.

Does this make me bad, striving for what the servant taught? I must not cast any stone. Most of these people are better than I.

I can only ask Him for help. Him, whose love never faltered, whose arms are wide open even in death, the One who remains when you strip away the fear.

It must be in Him that I choose to believe because the rest is shrouded in obscurity.