Of unrepentant sin that so easily entangles. That wraps around me and refuses to let go. That engulfs me in its wordly pleasures and senses that I become powerless and blind to what is Right, Pure and True.

This is my confession of my weak ability to cast it off, of my lack of strength against the Devil’s continuous attacks.

This is my declaration. Of dependence on the only One who can grant me sufficient strength, grace and forgiveness for me to lift my head and face the new day with His new mercies.

This is my acknowledgement that when your mind is not set on things above, then neither is your heart and neither is your will. You are what you expose yourself to. I must be foolish to think that I can prance around in the world, defenseless from the worldliness that accompanies it.

How do I remind myself that I am a child of God and this world offers Nothing for me? How do I hold fast to His promises that He washes us clean time after time after time, even after we knowingly run straight into that puddle of mud to soak ourselves in it again and again. Kicking and screaming and having so much fun but hating the stench and dirt that accompanies it later, longing for cleanliness so desperately. You cannot stay covered in mud.

I digress. This is my letter to the One who washes me with the Blood of the Lamb. I am not worthy to be forgiven and made right over and over. Yet this is the beauty of the cross and I will never understand it. I may hate myself to the core and yet the Cross extends its everlasting arms toward me and crowns me with its splendour. How can one make sense of this? I cannot. I can only come before Him and whisper my words of repentance which may come to mean nothing as my actions negate it the next day. But He understands. He Understands. And that is more than enough for me.