The Poet Who Prays Like a Human
AUT's "Dear God" is everything we've been taught not to say in church—and it's beautiful
In this moment, I am going to introduce you to a poet who assures us all that when it comes to God the truth is enough. No fancy wrapping required. No spiritual makeup to cover the mess. Just raw, honest humanity meeting holy love—and somehow, that's exactly what He's been waiting for.
Her name is AUT, and she's managed to accomplish what most of us spend years avoiding: she prayed without a filter. No religious jargon. No theological safety nets. Just a human being having an honest conversation with her Creator, and frankly, it's liberating.
You see, we've gotten quite good at performing faith. We've mastered the art of saying the right things at the right times, of crafting prayers that sound impressive and struggles that seem manageable. We've become experts at making our mess look like ministry. AUT, apparently, missed that memo. Turns out, God has always opposed the proud but shown favor to the humble—funny how that works.
This is what the end times church actually looks like—not the sanitized version we've been selling, but the kind that bleeds truth and still believes God shows up in the wreckage. It's the difference between performing righteousness and simply being human in the presence of holiness.
"Dear God" by AUT
What Revival Actually Sounds Like
Forget the revival meetings with perfect lighting and choreographed responses. This—this questioning, desperate honesty—this is what the Spirit stirs up when people stop pretending and start praying.
AUT wrote what half the congregation thinks but lacks the courage to vocalize. She asked the 3 AM question: "What makes you so sure about me?" She confessed what we all know but rarely admit: our own love is conditional, inconsistent, and often absent entirely.
This is peeling off the mask of religion. This is slaughtering self-righteousness. This is confessing our actual sins—our doubts, our questions, our inability to love ourselves—so healing can begin.
When we stop trying to be the "super" in supernatural and allow God to handle that part, something shifts. Broken people discover they're beloved. Questions become doorways rather than dead ends. Weakness coupled with a mustard seed of faith sets the stage where the word of God performs. His grace, it turns out, is sufficient—and His power works best when we stop pretending, we have any.
If this resonates with you, you'll want to know that AUT has an EP called "January" releasing June 17th, 2025. It's a collection exploring the peculiar ache of loving what remains forever out of reach, while discovering how God meets us in that tender space of longing. Produced by @teaagreen, it's the kind of project designed not just to move you, but to break you open in all the right places—the kind that might leave you crying, but in the way that feels like coming home. APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY
Here's to poets like AUT who remind us that the most profound prayers often sound nothing like what we learned in Sunday school. Sometimes they sound exactly like the human heart finally telling the truth—and discovering that the truth, as promised, actually does set us free.