I had set aside a week to take a silent retreat. My hope was that during this dedicated week, I could rekindle my relationship with God. During the first two days of the retreat, I began to journal prayers. I was trying to figure out why I was feeling distant from God. The evening of the second day, I recall writing a question in my journal. "Am I doubting your love for me, God?" I pondered for a while. After deep consideration, I concluded that I didn't doubt his love, but instead, I disagreed with it. I thought God was a fool for loving me. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I began to weep bitterly. I remember writing in my journal, "I am so disappointed in who I have become." I knew that God loved me, but I didn't think he was wise for doing so. 

I cried quite a bit that night and didn't come to a resolution before exhausting my energy and falling asleep. I woke the next morning with a new clarity about my own anger at myself. See, I had imagined that my life would be so much purer, more holy, and more committed to God than it was. I longed to be so much better than I knew that I was, but I had not lived up to my own standards for myself. Over the next several days, I felt God's love draw me in. I couldn't fight it anymore. He loved me even though I wasn't what I had wanted to be. 

Maybe today you feel similar. Others have harmed you over the years, but you also acknowledge that you too have caused significant harm. You are not who you had hoped you would be. You wanted to be better than you are, and now you are angry at yourself. 

You could write a confession about all of the things you wish you were but are not. Acknowledge it in the presence of God and then take a moment to embrace a love that seeks even the worst of sinners. Romans 5 tells us that he loved us and died for us while we were his enemy. He didn't love us only after we fixed ourselves up. He loved us before any renovations. God loves you; deal with it. Now, maybe you can forgive yourself because the God of the universe does. 


by Aaron Bjorklund