The Burden of Guilt

I did something wrong. I failed. I let you down. I’m sure that you must think less of me now. I don’t know how to be right with you again. Every time I look at you I see how I let you down. So I turn my eyes down. That way you can’t see in to my soul.

I look down. I cannot see outward, cannot see forward. So I look inward. Inward at my inadequacy. My wrongdoings. My shame. My guilt.

All I see is the emptiness that once was me. A huge hole where I was once whole.

And it will never be made right.

I’m so sorry.

Not even God will forgive me.

And so the burden of Guilt takes hold. Gripping. Controlling. Suffocating. It can weaken even the strongest of bonds. Yet it is one of the worst types of bondage there is.

We’ve all been there. Some are still there. Inside a prison cell, without a key.

I look up. For the first time in what seems like months I let you see my eyes. Afraid. Anxious. I look at yours. The eyes of my Savior. I see compassion where I expected anger. Acceptance instead of scorn. Love, where contempt should be.

Is this the key to the cell door?

How can this be? I hurt you so deeply. I don’t deserve this kindness. Not from anyone. Not from you.

You simply stand in front of me. You raise your arms, but not to strike me. They are stretched out, inviting me to embrace you.

You offer hope, where I had none. You offer forgiveness, in exchange for my guilt. Healing to make my hole whole again.

But the choice is mine.

Lord Jesus, help me to let go of the guilt and run into your waiting arms. I want to be whole again.