The Heart of the Storm


In the heart of the storm where judgments roar, As a pastor, a shepherd of God’s own core, A beacon of faith, yet so much more, Queer, neurodivergent, once a convict’s score.

Emotions rise, like waves upon a shore, Anger surfaces, a lion’s mighty roar, Not the primal beast, but a guardian at the door, Protecting softer whispers of what lies in store.

Fear that curls, a snake on the floor, Anxiety of judgment, of what might be in store, Sadness that lingers, an old, painful sore, Cloaked in anger’s armor, ready for war.

Yet beneath the cloak, in the heart’s deep core, A gentler truth begins to soar, An understanding, never seen before, That anger’s just a guide, nothing more.

Living authentically, an oath I swore, A balance, a dance, never a chore. In all my identities, God’s love I bore, Neurodivergent, Queer, once behind a locked door.

Facing the world, as criticism tore, Felt the sting, the wounds, the painful pour. Yet Ephesians reminds, as it has before, “In your anger, sin no more.”

With God’s love as my compass, His Word an oar, I sailed the turbulent seas, reached a safer shore, Cast all my fears upon Him, let my worries soar, For He cares for me, forevermore.

Understanding, compassion, in my heart’s store, For those who judge, their actions explore, Their words but whispers of their own internal war, “A gentle answer turns away wrath,” says the proverb’s lore.

In this journey, authentic to the core, As a pastor, a guide, so much more, Neurodivergent, Queer, no longer keeping score, I stand in God’s love, forever restored.

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