My Shiny Bible


I go to Church about every other Sunday.

Then I’m facing the mirror again every Monday.


If I don’t try on my dress the night before,

With anger I’ll scream, not make it out the door.


I always feel I owe them an explanation.

A black sheep in this Congregation…


I’m fighting a battle that they cannot see.

There’s a dark war going on inside of me.


My black, leather Bible is shiny, looks new.

I hurry past Greeters to find my back pew.


I’d do it over, and over, do it over again.

Be baptized for Jesus to wash away my sins.


Fifteen years ago, I did right when I gave my life to Christ.

But a Bipolar whirl shook me, every moment became a fight.


Mania and depression messed up that sweet girl.

But, I didn’t know in that clam was a pearl!


So much happened that I did not plan.

But I know someday we will all understand.


I’m pressing on, I’m working, and being all that I can be.

For I know I can do all things through Him that strengthens me!







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