"I promised, God. I promised and have not yet followed through. If you want this of me still, please, show me."

And He opened the door. The words were preached, some piercing my skin so harshly I had to double over with the pure nausea which was created. Shaking. My legs were shaking. My hands held together tightly as to hide the fact that they were shaking, also. I was seemingly wrapping my whole self as tightly as I possibly could, so as to keep myself from melting into a thousand different pieces right then and there. 

Conviction, In its most pure sense.

I had to say the words which I needed to dig from the very depths, every hidden crevice of my broken and lost and shattered soul. I loved God. I gave my heart to Him. and yet still held onto the idea that I was strong enough to do this on my own. Convinced myself that I could fight it. Even though I fell 

Over

and 

Over

and 

Over

Again.

I disgust myself, Lord, how could I not disgust you?

"Just say it." The voice gently urged. "Just speak. I will listen. I will hear. I will love."

In a quick breath, the words left my mouth, and entered the still air, surrounded by an aura of panic and urgency. A need to inhale them as quickly as I had exhaled them. A feeling of pure disgust in myself, but yet, a feeling of sudden relief, the need to never hold onto the words again. To believe I truly was forgiven.

"I love you, still."

Four simple words, and I knew. Without a doubt. I am loved by a God whose love surpasses all. I am loved by a God who still wants me, in spite of everything. I am loved by a God whose love I could never understand.