The Real Church


There are some who say

The church is a sacred place—

And to let my feelings show

Would be a real disgrace.


So as I dressed for church

And finished with my hair—

I glanced into the mirror

To be sure my mask was there.


I heard the Lord so gently

Speaking to my soul

“My child, I long to touch you—

I want to make you whole…”


“I brought you here today—

Not for you to hide—

But that others on life’s journey

Could help you see inside…


“In the world, it’s hard

To let the real you show—

But here, My child, you’re safe—

It’s where hurting people go.


I long to help you children—

That’s why My church was born—

Come unto Me, I’ll help you mend

When you feel tossed and torn…”


My tears began to flow—and

My mask slipped to the floor—

But it’s OK—I’m welcome here—

I won’t need it anymore.

Author Unknown


Blessings to you.


3 thoughts on “The Real Church

  1. Its a shame that there is pretense even in the house of God. Great poem and i’m glad you have found truth.

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