Sometimes I fear
that my private story,
if ever found out
will keep me from glory.

An evil concoction
of anger and lust,
of judgmental thinking
and questionable trust.

Sequestered thoughts
shown on a screen,
in heaven’s courtroom
nothing unseen.

All the assembled
stop singing and stare,
mortified whispers
and looks I can’t bear.

From his holy throne
God shakes his head,
his disappointment
becomes my worst dread.

But I’ve read my Bible
that’s not how it goes,
because of Christ’s blood
we’re no longer foes.

When I leave this earth
and enter heavenly space,
I’ll step not into judgment
but into my Father’s embrace.