I’m Not a Service Project

You invited me
To sit with you on Sunday.
That’s nice.
But why would I want to sit
In a place where most don’t even care if I am there?
Neighbors fill the pews on Sunday
To learn about love and kindness
And then leave the building
Only to ignore me throughout the week
They avert their eyes when I wave during my morning jog
Or look straight ahead as they pass in their cars.

I’m the stranger in a familiar land
The prodigal who has yet to return
A gentile raised as a saint
Shunned for my selfish sins.

It’s hard living on a street where nobody knows your name
They only know me as the gay guy.

I will sit with you
If only I could be fully included.

But I would rather have my neighbors smile when I say hello
Thank me when I shovel snow from their sidewalks
Inquire about my life
And sit with me in the shade of my front porch.

I will sit with you when it isn’t written on your agenda
Part of a special event
Or an assignment from your priesthood leader;
I would rather be loved
Than be your service project.

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Published by

M. McMann

I am a writer, an artist, an athlete, a brother. I have the crazy dream of making my part of the world a better place. I like to do kind things in secret and observe the joy I bring into other people's lives. I can't stand seeing others being treated unjustly. I hate the direction our government is taking this country. Since when did taking care of those who can't take care of themselves become evil? Everybody deserves to be treated with dignity, and I think we all appreciate when someone else has offered to lift us up. I am your neighbor. I am Mystery McMann.

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