Dear Father,
I have sinned,
Even when I knew it was wrong.
I sinned when I acknowledged your presence,
I rebelled against you and didn’t care.
I am dirt who hates you at heart,
I can’t stand being in your presence.
I am filled with malice and spite,
I break bread with my sin,
I dig up the bones of my weaknesses.
Dear Father,
You loved me still,
You cared for me despite this.
You saw me as precious,
You called me holy.
You lifted me up,
Held me close,
Drew me near,
Called me to you,
Claimed me as your own,
Adopted me as your child.
You loved me still.
Groanings of my heart, the reason the gospel is so hard to believe is because I am so evil, and the Lord loves me not because what I am or what I do, but because He claimed me as His.