I am 35 years old. You know this. You know every hair on my head and every dark secret of my life. So you probably know what I’m about to write but I’m going to write it anyway.
I’m tired of praying for you to forgive me for only ever being just what you created me to be. I’m tired (and I mean physically and spiritually exhausted) of asking you to save me from this world of your creation.
On one hand, I am told I am made in your image, born of perfection, meant only to guard that perfection, to live a righteous life, and to love others as I love you and as, they say, you love us.
On the other, I am born of sinners, born into sin. Not only am I born with evil thoughts and desires in my heart, I am marked by something called Original Sin…something for which I am actually blameless except that I happen to be the same species as the people who committed it in the first place.
But, God, you knew they were going to commit that sin.
And you knew I was going to be born as this person I am and grow up in the world you created for me.
And you put them in the Garden of Eden and me on Earth anyway.
If there is an “original sin,” it really seems like it was yours. You had the first and ultimate choice.
You are the alpha and the omega. All things, people, choices, lives, countries, and sin begin and end with you and they always have.
Sometimes, when I read what your followers tell me, I think to myself “wow, how big of God to forgive me for being exactly what he made me to be in a world he created.”
I love you and have never doubted you. Even when I have been angry at you, when I have hated you, I have believed in you with my whole heart. I can’t see this ever changing nor do I want it to, but something has to change, God, because I’m tired of feeling like I’m doomed just because I am who you made me.
I hope you love me. Sometimes I have doubted that I am worthy of your love, but in my soul I really do hope that you love me and never stop. The older I get, the more I believe that you do.
I hope you keep loving me, too, because I will keep loving you. But I don’t have the strength for the rest of it—for the guilt that comes with just being who I am, for the constant praying that you’ll save me from forces you created in the first place, etc. I’m tired to the bone with it all, Lord, and I’m giving it to you.
If I need forgiving, I hope you forgive me. If you want me to know something, I hope you’ll tell me. But it’s really up to you, God. Your love and acceptance have become a burden I can no longer lift alone.
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I wanted to add this song to the entry.