Frosted Glass

Looking out the window

Through frosted glass

Is kind of nice

Safety through my refuge

Is slipping from my life

As the fog clears

Looking at Gina

It's so easy for her

How can she do it?

She just believes in this way

That I never could

Or would

I read these passages and think

I don't mind gays

But I have to

My friends shouldn't change

Just for me

I rush to confession

Then if I don't believe

God won't love me

And I'll be lost

Or He'll love me in that way

That God loves sinners

The love/hate

The love that dies

With our bodies

And isn't quite the same

Why did God let me grow up

And dare to wash the window

And fall from grace

I know I could have saved myself

But I had to wash the window

And see the other side

Even if you don't believe me

I know deep down

That He still loves me

A/N: This is a poem I wrote about a friend who wondered about her faith.  It's not my story (just in case.)