“We are not our sins,” the book said.
I desperately want(ed) to believe it. But when
I think, my thoughts swirl together,
adding together sin upon sin, proclaiming a
terminal illness: inability to be known,
and to be loved.
“BUT NO!” my brain says. The neuropathways
trodden down day after day make it
to ever reclaim a life of joy, a life worth living.
Then, the song comes on.
“All of a sudden, I am unaware
of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
and I realize just how beautiful You are
and how great Your affections are for me–
how He Loves us.”
And it gives me hope. Hope that the beaten path
can be healed,
that lies can be abandoned,
that Truth can be believed,
and that on even the worst day,
One thing does does not change:
I am not my sin,
and my God Loves me.