Jesus Stole My Wife
by Whitney Reynolds

When we married
She'd never been to church,
Never heard a hymn
Or raised up and shouted "Amen!"
She was a heathen, through and through
Like me, and all our friends.
Religion was a faerie tale
Told by wackos on the street.
It didn't exist in our world
And we were happy out of the sight of God.
Then those guys came to the door,
All clean cut and dressed in suits
They'd parked their bicycles in our yard.
I wasn't there to stop them from
Giving their pitch.
Before I knew it, they'd reeled her in.
I don't see my wife much anymore
She's always at her church meetings
Or going door to door
Wreaking other homes with
The power of Christ.