Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not. Every broken promise, withheld idol, things I’ve hidden behind locks.
Empty words of praise I sang when I couldn’t find the heart.
Second-hand prayers I said, like who cares if they matter or not.
Last minute cries I whimpered when I know that I should’ve come to your first.
The idols I set before myself when really they left me more empty than I sought.
Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not. Every selfish act, malicious word, jealous remark I’ve tried to besot.
Lies I’ve told myself to cover the hurt inside.
Anxiety I’ve bottled up, as selfish as my pride.
The depression that I cling to as if it were my first line of defense.
The worry and fear that rob me of my proclaimed innocence.
Father, Forgive Me, For Everything I’m Not, but praise the Lord that the God I serve is a forgiving God even and especially when I’m not.
That even in my weakness.
In my struggles…
Selfish, anxiety, worry, fear…
Depression, doubt, and pride…
He stands at the foot of the cross, arms stretched wide, and bears my issues for the price of His life.
So Father, Forgive Them, For Everything They Are Not.
Because even on my greatest days, at my highest heights, “I’m no better than them,” rings an afterthought.
For if you loved them enough to die a humiliating death, hanging from a tree.
I sure as heck can give a life worthy of the one I’ve received.
-Father, Forgive Me.
Agape,
Amber
