The Day I Spoke My Truth




The day I spoke my truth

was the day I told

Mrs. Priestly, the 6th grade

Sunday school teacher,

I thought God was bunk.

I didn’t believe in the six-day

creation or that I was made

in His image and likeness.

I didn’t understand why

He changed His mind and

started over so many times

if everything He’d made

was perfect to begin with.

And furthermore I didn’t

believe in prayer or that

anyone was up there

listening and granting,

for if He was omniscient

what was the point in our telling

Him what He already knew

and why would we propose

our own self-serving revisions

to His providential plan.


I was relieved

after parting my own Red Sea

to plant my feet on the other

side. Now I could never go back.

I only regretted having caused

the tears that cut a moist path

down the powdered cheeks

of Mrs. Priestly, who had done

her utmost to propagate the myth,

whose Goliath faith was no

match for a child’s sling-shot

logic. Her Tower of Babel

aspiring to Heaven collapsed

and fell to pieces the day I

spoke the truth that set me free.


Margaret Van Every

This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

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