It is an altar call to the world, an invitation to see a new kind of Christianity and to hear the confession of a church on its knees asking your forgiveness for the mess we have helped create. And it is an "alter" call to the church, to alter our vision from the patterns of this world and create new ways of living.

Christ knows all that is true about our story, the parts we own and the parts we would delete, and He invites us to bring them all into the spotlight of His grace.

Lord Jesus, Your love is beyond my understanding but I believe it's true. Right now I offer You my shame, the filthy rags of my past. I choose to step out of this storm of condemnation and into Your peace. Thank You for loving me and for making me worthy, In Your great name, amen.

Every time a man knocks on a brothel door, he is really knocking for God.

You and your sins must separate, or you and your God will never come together.

When I was a kid I inhaled frequently. That was the point.

As much as Tim blamed himself during the next morning's postmortem, I recognized it as a systems failure

Shoes would interfere with her conversation, for she constantly addresses the ground under her feet. Asking forgiveness. Owning, disowning, recanting, recharting a hateful course of events to make sense of her complicity. We all are, I suppose. Trying to invent our version of the story. All human odes are essentially one, My life; what I stole from history, and how I live with it.

Forgive me, O Heavenly Father, according to the multitude of Thy mercies. I have lusted in my heart to break a man's skull and scatter the stench of his brains across several people's back yards.

When the spirit passed through him he groaned, throwing body and soul into his weekly purge. The Amen enema, as I call it. My palindrome for the Reverend.

A disappointed-looking Jesus eyed her from the wall...Look, look, her steps called out, here is a red headed sinner on the move.

If his guilt made him a tyrant before men, it made him like a child before his God. Not a helpless or pleading child, but a petulant one, the type of tough boy who's known too little love and is quick to blame others for his mistakes.