... Kellan ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry, ... poetry ...

The Pentecostal

Long ago, I was very
Pentecostal.

Imagined that I was in
God’s tangible presence
many times. As if it were
like completing a Rubik’s
Cube or whispering the
secret password through
the small iron window of
a seedy bar’s back entrance.
I felt God overcome me. Felt
Him touch me. Heard Him speak
to me. It was so easy. God
was my boon companion.
I was the one-eyed,
three-legged mongrel in
rapturous joy, and He, the
excited belly-rubbing Passerby.

One day, God vanished. And I
felt Him only once more, and
then never again.

It was actually Halloween morning.
It was early as I
helplessly held my four
day old daughter in the
ICU and watched
her breathe her last perfect
breath.

I felt God that day.

I felt His massive, simple
Spirit fill the room, every corner
contained only Him. You could not
breathe, or utter a sound. Even the
beeping of the machines went silent.

He stepped up to me and took her
from my arms without a word.
I do not know
if He looked me in the eyes,
I could not see Him. But
He paused for an instant,
His power hovering just
beside me. Truly tangible.
Then as quickly as He came,
I felt Him
turn and walk out the door,
taking my daughter with Him.

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3 thoughts on “The Pentecostal

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