Tag: faith, forgiveness, god

Bethany Pierce

The sun was up, the neighborhood waking. I wiped my face clean with the back of my sleeve, the warming air soft on my wet cheeks. A prayer welled up within me, a new kind of prayer. I was done begging God to forgive me for being too bitter, too needy, too egotistical, too tired. Repenting one day for being too much, the next for not being enough.Now I clearly understood my real offence against heaven: the stubborn refusal that every failing that I had—from the first—had been forgiven.

Bethany Pierce

The sun was up, the neighborhood waking. I wiped my face clean with the back of my sleeve, the warming air soft on my wet cheeks. A prayer welled up within me, a new kind of prayer. I was done begging God to forgive me for being too bitter, too needy, too egotistical, too tired. Repenting one day for being too much, the next for not being enough.Now I clearly understood my real offence against heaven: the stubborn refusal that every failing that I had—from the first—had been forgiven.