Lord, I’m sorry for thinking You love me the same way others do. For assuming You’ll withhold affection until I’ve paid penance or until You’re “over” whatever I may have done.
For imagining that You hold me at arm’s length and invite me in only when You want to want me.
For thinking You view me through eyes of disappointment, seeing only how far I am from all I could be and should be.
For presuming You only love me because You have to and not because You want to.
For guessing You hold my mistakes against me, just as I do with myself.
For acting as though You think I’m discardable and unwantable.
For forgetting that You love me for who I am and not for who I can be.