Censored Guest There is a man that I know, who knows me all too well. That man, in his own right, was in high standing with friends and saints at his local church. Most of his peers tabbed him as a real stand-up-guy. He was a loyal servant to anyone he associated with, always willing to lend a helping hand. He was a witness to the fact that anyone could be redeemed… Yet still, he felt that his faults screamed out loud. This left me to wander- if he might have felt less than highly esteemed? One day a rumor took root, sprouting - up out of the miry clay… he shrugged it off. But more questions than answers swirled about him, such as a charmed cobra uncoiling, striking, sinking its ugly fangs into one’s derriere… So a meeting of the saints ensued. “You know the type, where only the pure in heart can judge; those who have paid their heavenly dues.” That night, an agonizing sigh arose from within the meeting place, especially from the saints who already had heavy burdens piled on them. Finally, it was announced from the floor that a fault was found in him, too legal to be ignored. A quick glance over the alter tolled all. Saints drop their heads in shame, wrenching their hands, waiting for a pin to drop or another cross to bear. “How could he?” Anxiety boils to a head…as he becomes their censored guest. “Oh, look how my words and their meanings have become misconstrue.” He reflects. A sullen hush was broken… Mixed with loud clamoring, pointing fingers, and gray fuzzy syllables. Even a rare devious thought or two fused in. How could one, who at one time was admired by all… be chasten? The saints turn to each other… I heard their whispers slur into a cursing loud – “I told you so!!”