Sanctified but Still Human

A Pastor’s Daughter’s Lament on Love, Faith, and Letting Go

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Unholy Reason

I’ve just unearthed the truth beneath his lie—

The reason he blocked me, left me high and dry.

He knew I was right, saw the light in my voice,

But turned from the truth, made a coward's choice.

He searched for a flaw, a reason to flee,

When all he had to do… was let go of me.

I told him before, so plain, so clear:

Say you don't want me—and I’ll disappear.

Why the drama, the storm, the twisted mess?

Why drag my soul through needless stress?

Is it my crime—being a pastor’s child?

Born in pews, with faith reconciled?

Yes, I grew up steeped in sacred songs,

In knowing what's right and feeling what's wrong.

But aren't Christians still flesh and bone?

Not saints of stone, not hearts of stone.

We cry, we long, we yearn to feel,

We break, we mend, we need what's real.

We crave love too—our spirits ache,

But he left me cold, for heaven’s sake.

All because of that—this twisted cause.

It hurts. It stings. It gives me pause.

But it's fine... I’ll heal in time.

This chapter’s closed. I’ll write my rhyme.

The pain was deep, but now I see:

His loss, not mine—I'm breaking free.

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