A Threadbare Carpet

Placating prayers

blanket friendship bereft of depth.

Sales transactions and business endeavors

foster camaraderie, alluding to stronger ties than actually woven.

Then constant comments on public interest posts insinuate superiority and the author’s lack of personal faith.

When worldviews are shared, aside from entrepreneurship,

one party is left “guilty”, apologizing for existence.

When apologies are offered

and the other brushes off responsibility,

all weight of arguments flared ensnares the approval addict in a pit of self-doubt.

After months, possibly years, of this woe, a filter is placed to sift out deceit and assuage debate.

A sense of this rift leads to a stream of texts.

At the end, the soft illusion of accountability, unity, and community is stripped bare;

exposed lays the hurt of misconceptions and fake friendliness.

In an act of personal mercy, the communication is asked to be severed,

at least while individuals remain only connected via electrical wires.

At the end, I kneel asking if Christ would have left a friendship.

In a year of Jubilee, when debts are to be completely forgiven,

I wonder if I acted justly, in a manner befitting a Christian label.

At what point is toxicity poisoning individual faith?

Do we need to chatter or can we distance ourselves?

What is the balance between enabling and assisting?

What is the protocol for ending communication, is it ever acceptable?

Under normal circumstances, without technological influence, the natural progression of the tie would probably have ceased due to a lack of proximity.

When co-dependency seems to be rising, is it Christ-like and loving to quit the bond?

I feel relieved, more at peace when I ponder the authenticity of the “friendship” and ending a reciprocation of views shared, lives exposed, and prayers requested.  On the other hand, I wonder  if my actions glorify God or if I should have tried harder to mend the wearing line, if I should have put more effort into reconciling a clearly fading link.  There are the friendships where one feels closer to the other party; feelings of benefit not mutual.  There was a glimmer of a skewed perception of closeness here.  Was I right or wrong? Only time will reveal an answer…or perhaps one might never come and I have to trust that my faith is authentic, even if it remains questioned by the grieving cast-away.


My mind is so cloudy with conflicting opinions on the resolution of this matter.  The poem could be more cohesive, better written.  I have had too little sleep, due to an infant with any number of issues that can’t be verbally expressed, and being a prisoner of my own contemplation.  Forgive my writer woe.


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