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Description
I lie a lot.
It's how I was raised.
I lie and I get by.
And it's odd
because I'll be straight up honest with you about things that most other people will dodge around.
You can ask me about being suicidal.
I'll own up to how wrecked I was.
You can ask me about my porn problem.
I'll be as hardcore as the stuff I've watched.
You can ask me about my quiet times with God.
I'll fess up that sleep is a lot more comfortable than waking up early in the morning, and that I've missed way more than I should, that I've been skimping out on the God whom I love,

but ask me how school's going.
I'll tell you I'm busy with things,
but I won't tell you that I've been busy with a crap ton of things that aren't related to school at all.
Ask me about how many books I've read this semester, and I promise I won't tell you that I've read part of Dawn, all of Neuromancer, and that's about it.
Ask me about my homework.
I won't tell you that I've done practically none of it and that my grades are probably in the single digits or probably should be.
I'll tell you about the fantastic ideas I've had for essays this semester, but ask me for a copy and I'll tell you my printer's jammed or something.

Trust me, I lie a lot, and it sucks,
because I know that in several weeks my finals are going to roll around, and I'll be staring at a blank screen or lines on a paper, and I'll have no idea what to do.
I'll look real damn good right up to the moment my parents ask to see my grades,
and I'll try to blame it on something else, as if it wasn't my fault, but to be honest, it is.
I got by on lies, because I wanted to be loved, because the world around me was going great, because successful is a perfect report card, so when God said He'd love me with my A, D, H, and D, AND the long list of F's after that, I was skeptical.
Desperately hoping it was true, but skeptical, because everyone else was looking for perfection.
God said, "You can't hope to reach that,"
and I wasn't insulted by this truth thrown in my face.
I was relieved.
Finally there was truth in the lie that I had been living.
Finally I could stop pretending that it was all OK, and could sit in the arms of someone and cry it all out and say, "No, I can't."
I was finally set free from the lie I was living in, because God didn't want my best, but my worst.
God wasn't after empty virtue and "good" works, with a hope to earn His love.
He wanted me.
In my bad grades, Body Odor, and shorts that I tried to patch up with duct tape.
My righteousness is like filthy rags, and my good works hold like duct tape through the wash of His blood.
It all fades away.
So I'm sitting there
naked,
nothing to wear,
And He gave me His robes.
I didn't do squat but mess myself up, and He set me free.
He cleaned me up.
He set me on the right path.
He loved me to death, when I was still far off.
I still deal with feelings of inadequacy, but God has reminded me that I am His beloved and adopted son, and that's the truest thing about me.
I can step out of the lies, because He has set me free even from myself.

Description
I lie a lot.
It's how I was raised.
I lie and I get by.
And it's odd
because I'll be straight up honest with you about things that most other people will dodge around.
You can ask me about being suicidal.
I'll own up to how wrecked I was.
You can ask me about my porn problem.
I'll be as hardcore as the stuff I've watched.
You can ask me about my quiet times with God.
I'll fess up that sleep is a lot more comfortable than waking up early in the morning, and that I've missed way more than I should, that I've been skimping out on the God whom I love,

but ask me how school's going.
I'll tell you I'm busy with things,
but I won't tell you that I've been busy with a crap ton of things that aren't related to school at all.
Ask me about how many books I've read this semester, and I promise I won't tell you that I've read part of Dawn, all of Neuromancer, and that's about it.
Ask me about my homework.
I won't tell you that I've done practically none of it and that my grades are probably in the single digits or probably should be.
I'll tell you about the fantastic ideas I've had for essays this semester, but ask me for a copy and I'll tell you my printer's jammed or something.

Trust me, I lie a lot, and it sucks,
because I know that in several weeks my finals are going to roll around, and I'll be staring at a blank screen or lines on a paper, and I'll have no idea what to do.
I'll look real damn good right up to the moment my parents ask to see my grades,
and I'll try to blame it on something else, as if it wasn't my fault, but to be honest, it is.
I got by on lies, because I wanted to be loved, because the world around me was going great, because successful is a perfect report card, so when God said He'd love me with my A, D, H, and D, AND the long list of F's after that, I was skeptical.
Desperately hoping it was true, but skeptical, because everyone else was looking for perfection.
God said, "You can't hope to reach that,"
and I wasn't insulted by this truth thrown in my face.
I was relieved.
Finally there was truth in the lie that I had been living.
Finally I could stop pretending that it was all OK, and could sit in the arms of someone and cry it all out and say, "No, I can't."
I was finally set free from the lie I was living in, because God didn't want my best, but my worst.
God wasn't after empty virtue and "good" works, with a hope to earn His love.
He wanted me.
In my bad grades, Body Odor, and shorts that I tried to patch up with duct tape.
My righteousness is like filthy rags, and my good works hold like duct tape through the wash of His blood.
It all fades away.
So I'm sitting there
naked,
nothing to wear,
And He gave me His robes.
I didn't do squat but mess myself up, and He set me free.
He cleaned me up.
He set me on the right path.
He loved me to death, when I was still far off.
I still deal with feelings of inadequacy, but God has reminded me that I am His beloved and adopted son, and that's the truest thing about me.
I can step out of the lies, because He has set me free even from myself.