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Facing where I've been a fool. My heart breaks over things that have broken the heart of God. Life, relationships, responsibilities are all too confusing. Easier not to truly care, or if I alone would bear the consequences of my risks. I have neither luxury. And I have failed.

Specks in others' eyes, logs in my own. Perhaps this realization is His call for my repentance, for my holiness. Indeed, how could it be anything else? Yet I fear I cannot bear to see more. What I've seen already makes me want to die.

I am sorry. I will likely be sorrier still.

This will be a long, hard night.


I'm praying for you right now.
I don't have a clue what to say. I know what I'd do, but I can't 'cause my arms aren't long enough. But anyway, here.



A broken heart and contrite spirit- He has yet to deny.

contrite: Broken down with grief and penitence; deeply sorrowful for sin because it is displeasing to God; humbly and thoroughly penitent.

You have a beautiful heart my friend.