God’s poverty of the heart.
My life is not as neat as my green lawn. Please know this.
My stuff does not make me different.
It makes me want it less. Tweet This
I feel money growing up
In my city, county, sidewalk
Through the floor cracks of Starbucks, church, and Trader Joe’s.
I pray the need will search me out
As I drive neat streets.
Often I go looking for the beating in God’s chest.
Here, I feel it coming with a crash.
This is Day 24 of 31 Days of Poetry.
What do you do with the crash of wealth and poverty in your world? Tweet This