“Impostor”

 

I tuck my right hand under my left,

Accept the gracious gift given to me,

And say “Amen” with a friendly nod

Knowing that I am an impostor.

After I return to my seat and recover my bearings, 

I shift my weight as I struggle to find comfort

Within the unforgiving wooden pews

That keep my body and beliefs in place.  

The peaceful palm of my wife

Calms my unsettled, unsavory nerves

As she escorts my perspiry hand

Over to the safe nest of her lap. 

She knows of my disinterested past

Regarding religion. 

I am no atheist or agnostic.  

I was raised to believe God was possible and present. 

There was just no urgency on my part

Or the parts of my parents

To instill and install the notions

The Bible was willing to cement in my mind. 

Many passages and psalms are news to me,

Yet the lyrics linger longer than I expect.   

My indifference makes no difference now. 

I mouth the words I have learned through repetition,   

My voice a whisper lost in an ocean of vibrato.

No one pays attention to how swiftly I sign the cross

Or how straight my posture is when I rise.  

I am in attendance

But I am not always present

Like God is.   

There is hope for me,

I hear.  

Charades come to an end.

Impostors come clean,

Get exposed as frauds

Or realize, 

Like I will

That they were never pretending

To be something 

They were not.