“I let all my searching lead me, I confess.
And the more I pried, the more I neared the edge.
Can a man enter the womb again, I ask.
Can a zealot embrace humanness?
I was leeching on the confidence of men
While I separated righteousness from sin.
I was preaching, but my heart was wearing thin.
Can a zealot become human?
Understand me, I’ve never had a rebel’s heart.
But they say pressure only shows you who you are.
And besides, it was my friend up on the cross.
And I felt his rejection. If I turned, I’d be lost.
Now I’m bleeding for a faith I’ve never seen.
But the fear that held me is finally loosening.
I will leave it, and let my conscience make amends.
So a zealot becomes human.
Now Finally, a voice came rushing through the walls:
“Love freely, it’s what makes you what you are.”
Then the pride fell like ashes from the fire.
And I knelt there….born…born…reborn.”
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