The Prodigal's Plaint Poem by Brenda Lee Renwick

I’ve given up perfection
‘cuz it didn’t suit me right.
I’ve given up pretending –
It just wasn’t worth the fight.

I’m livin’ my life the way I am
For all the world to see;
But I haven’t given up on Jesus
‘cuz He’ll never give up on me.

God’s people have a funny way
Of showing that they care.
Even after several months
No one’s noticed we’re not there.

I hate it when they turn around
To shake my hand “on cue.”
Some don’t even give their names
Or say “how do you do? ”

I hate to be invisible;
And no one knows my name.
The people there won’t meet my eye
Or say they’re glad I came.

I’m not a very good Baptist
‘cuz I like a little wine;
And when it comes right down to it
I think that beer is fine.

I dragged my kids to Sunday School,
To VBS and more,
And when I gave them each the choice
They headed for the door.

A preacher man I know will say
I’m just a rebellious fool;
But I can’t help but wonder
If it’s him who’s the devil’s tool.

My husband, too, has given up;
He’s tired of phony friends.
Like me he just looks forward to
The place where the journey ends.