talk

This morning I’m going to have a nice, long chat with God about how much I fail Him, and I’m going to ask Him for forgiveness, and then, because He promises He always will, He’ll forgive me completely.  God knows my faults and my sins, and He knows what I’m going to do that day before I even get out of bed in the morning.  He likes us to talk, though, and He likes me to fess up when  do something stupid or mean or just plain wrong because, I think, He wants me to realize that He didn’t just die so that the vague group of real “sinners” can go to Heaven if they believe in Him.  He died so that the sinner I see in the mirror every morning can go to Heaven, knowing full well that I was saved by the grace and the compassion of a Father who loves me.  A grace I will never deserve.

Compassion and justice can only fully coincide, can only peacefully co-exist, in a perfect being, which is why God is the only one allowed to judge.  I am a-okay with this.  If it was up to Judge Judy, I would probably be staring at the business end of a hissy fit before receiving my vast, eternal punishment for failing as a human being.

Coffee is ready.  Time to go have a chat with Dad.

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