…I see a reflection of myself, and bashful with shame I turn away from the script that has been my life. I am utterly confused at how anyone could love me in light of my past. Broken, bruised and baggage-laden is the narrative of my emotional and spiritual journey. Where I am now, only a tangential occurrence, sincerely only by God’s grace.
I am completely uncertain as to where I could have earned His love. I have nothing to offer but the fragile pieces of my life and the malignant fragments of my heart. Everything rotting from the inside out.
Numb to the degeneration I can see the potential for so much more, but I feel so bogged down in the filth of my mistakes and bad choices. My hands covered in my own mess, lathered in the illusion of goodness. I see my grime but cannot stop myself from rubbing it all over my face.