It began as a still small voice,
When life still seemed shiny,
Crying during The Way of the Cross,
This young girl was desperate for Jesus.
The sacramental incense was sweet in my nostrils.
The name above all other names,
Was a joyful song in my heart.
"Little girl you belong to Me!"
When blossom of adolescence turned to thorns,
Pills were ingested,
This young woman desperate to run away,
Run away and die.
Standing at a cold metal screen door,
I was crying again.
This time not for God but to The Divine Parent.
The voice louder, more stern,
Like rain on a tin roof,
"I Am here, go to bed little girl."
God and I,
Off and on again,
Ebbing and flowing,
Other gods took The Almighty one's place.
A new song filled my soul,
Honky tonk replaced hymns,
Jack Daniels replaced Jesus Christ.
My Creator's call came louder still,
"Choose life little girl!"
Like a scene from a morality play,
A chorus of wingless angels came singing,
A song that saved my life.
The call came again,
A request to be of service,
To do His purpose,
Fear became like cotton in my heart's ears,
As the familiar song played again.
"You are My hands and feet little girl!"
Every time I pray I hear it.
Every sacred word I read I feel it.
The calling comes,
Along with the fear.
" Serve My flock,
Be the woman I made you to be,
God always calls me little girl.
But does God know,
Under this smooth brown skin,
Are chicken feathers?
In this heart full of love and mercy,
Is prejudice, intolerance and lust?
In this mind full of the knowledge
Of His word and immeasurable loving kindness,
Is porn and the word Fuck?
Does The Master of the Universe know that I not afraid of,
If I can do it but if I should?
When I asked the answer came as a question:
"Does the want of loving and serving Me outweigh lust and serving self, little girl?"
That question made me feel,
Like Atlas under the globe.
Pins and needles,
Needles and pins,
Pierced my conscience and my soul.
Me a minister of Gods' word and love,
A vicar to Christ's people?
Me, Tamara Dolores Broussard?
The very thought fills me with,
Desperation to do God's will,
Joy at the possibilities,
Excitement to see people's shock.
A application to seminary has been filled and signed.
God calls me 'little girl'.
Soon they will call me...