A whole year has passed

and here I am again.
I'm in that same broken place with that same devastating, sickening sin.
I'm getting nowhere.

Nothing has changed.

I can be so full of myself . . . to think that I've come so far . . .
To claim so joyously that a year and a half ago I was a completely different person.

How You love me, . . . Lord . . . I don't think I will ever know.


This is the only real difference, I'm sure:
A year and a half later, I know that You love me.

Somehow, someway, Your grace has opened my eyes to a small part of what You've always seen
Always known
And I hate it

But somehow, someway
You love it.

You love me


And that's enough.