Grace.

So many emotions.
Pent up.
No outlet.

It's so hard to hear Your voice
when my emotions are screaming.
Can't they just shut up?

It's all my fault I know
Bad choices.
Not listening.

I'd rather have fun
than be right with you
again.

And yet You say there's grace?
With all this blood on my hands?
You can wash me clean?
No way.
No chance.

I'm a sinner.
I'll always be.
And You have the gall
to expect more from me?!

I'm fallible!
I can't be good!
I can't be perfect
. . . as I should . . . as I wish I could . . .

Oh God save me.
I can't do this on my own.
Unstop my ears.
Take out the cotton.
Yell some sense into me.

God knows I need it.

I try so hard.
I think I'm good.
Only to realize
I've misunderstood.

I'm doing it on my own again.
Will I ever learn?
No.
So I give up.
Give in to my yearnings.

Then I realize that's not working.
Cause I feel worse and worse.
I'm not listening to you on purpose.
I blame it all on Adam's curse.

Blame blame
deflected from myself.
Isn't that how this all started
back in eden
way back when.

They made mistakes.
They passed the blame.
Tried to reap the joys
without the pain.

But it doesn't work.
History shows.
Heck, my own past
is full of those.

Failed attempts
To stifle my conscience.
When will I learn?

So here I am God.
Crawling back on my knees.
You're prodigal son.
Although You're probably sick of these . . .

Can I be Your slave?
Can I make it up somehow?
I was stupid, mislead.
I messed up again!

Is there anyway
You'll give me
just one more second chance?
I'll be Your lowliest servant
just take me back
from eating some pig's slop . . .

Oh please?

Wait, what's this?
A hug? A kiss?

You mean You still like me??
After all this???

How can You?
What grace!
Hardly possible.

Are You in Your right mind?
I've messed up
So bad.
So many times.

I'm arrogant, I'm greedy, I'm selfish, I'm vain. I'm attracted to evil and all my own gain. I'm mean, I'm hurtful, I'm too easily hurt. I pretend the world revolves around me. Inadvertently throwing You out. I let my emotions get the best of me. Pretty much every day. I'd rather watch television for hours, than listen to what You have to say. I view the world through "me" colored glasses. While the "God" ones sit on the shelf. I fight with my conscience day in and day out. I am a wreck of a wretch.

A mess of a human.

Another example of the sinful condition.

I'm just another problem for You to solve.

How could You then
welcome all that mess into You arms?

Where's the line?
When do you throw me out the door?
When do you refuse
and leave me in the cold?

I'm waiting.

I deserve that.

God, how long is this hug?!?

A party?!?!
For me?
For all this?
This mess that I am?

You're happy to have me back?
Lord, stop!
Those are Your most expensive foods!

Agck!
I don't deserve extravagance!
You're ring?
You're right hand seat?
You're coat?

You're Son?

Oh God no.

Not for me!

. . .

For me?

*I begin to cry . . . *

Me?

But...but I've let You down so so much . . .


"You were never holding Me up."