I found God and a Spare room

I stood outside with a suitcase and a lease I couldn't pay,

Six hundred square feet in Adams Morgan,

gone the very same day.

Sister Margaret opened up and said "You're here for the room?" The

hallway smelled of candle wax and something on the stove.

I said "I've never prayed a day" — she said "Well,

you're in luck,

The Wi-Fi's better than confession,

and the rent's a hundred bucks." When the rent got too high,

I found God — and a spare room,

A twin bed and a crucifix and a closet with a view.

They said "Bless you" when I sneezed and "Bless you" when I

cried, Turns out habit-forming's easier when the habit's by your side.

When the rent got too high,

I found God — and a spare room,

Never thought salvation came with a curfew.

Three months in and Sister Anne's teaching me to make her bread,

Sister Rose knows my ex's name and prays for him instead.

We split the cable,

split the chores, she splits her chocolate too,

Turns out grace looks like a woman doing crosswords in her pew.

I used to think community meant brunch on Sunday morn — Now

it's vespers, then Chardonnay,

and laughing till we're worn.

My mother asked if I'd gone strange,

gone holy, gone away

— I said "No,

Mum, I just found the cheapest flat in D.C." The nuns don't

tithe my paycheck, they just split it three ways fair,

Turns out heaven's rent-controlled,

and Sister Rose does hair.

When the rent got too high,

I found God — and a spare room,

A rosary on the doorknob and a novena for the flu.

They said "Bless you" when I sneezed and "Bless you" when I

cried, Now I'm the one who's praying that they'll let me stay

inside. When the rent got too high,

I found God — and a spare room,

Turns out heaven's got a lease,

and I renewed.

Spare room, spare room,

bless this spare room — Cheapest miracle I've ever known.