Repentance in the Suburbs

Repentance in the Suburbs

Bethany Besteman

Omniscient God, you know the moldy rags
And rusty dumpsters of our hearts, those parts
We hide in alleyways or tie in bags
stuffed under kitchen sinks-until they start
to stink, a stench no Yankee Candle flame
could hide. We smell of death. Bring life. 
Throw open hidden doors, drag out our shame
and pride, evict our squatting grudges, rifle
our righteous records-dump them on the pyre
with household gods of comfort, wealth, and ease. 
See black smoke rising from the soul’s bonfire. 
See hoarded filth now swirled in ashy breeze. 
Do this so from the embers of this purge,
dressed in your grace, we spotless can emerge.

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Bethany Besteman
Poet & Worship Coordinator

Bethany has been published in Reformed Worship

Photography by Samuel Han