I spent most of this afternoon listening to Kris Valloton and other Bethel leaders, but primarily Kris. I mulled over his story of pain and healing and salvation. I went to his website and took his Prince or Pauper quiz. I was dissatisfied with my score, but as I went through the questions I foresaw the results. Some things need to change in me.
So tonight, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, totally unable to, I began to pray. I uttered only the word “God,” before I started crying. And as I admitted out loud what my heart never would allow me to confess before, I realized that in all the times I had cried out to God over these things, I had never spoken to my own spirit about them. (Another suggestion from Kris.)
So I turned on my lamp and wrote out a letter to my own heart. I wanted to share it in case one of you out there needs to say the same things to yours. Here’s a place to start.
I forgive you. I forgive you for betraying me. I forgive you for being blind, what’s more: for being disobedient. I forgive you for ignoring sound counsel. I forgive you for leading me astray. I forgive you for hurting–wounding–people I love. I forgive you for tempting me to sin.
I forgive you for looking back.
I forgive you for lying.
I forgive you for refusing to heal for so long.
I forgive you for being discontent and for not seeking the peace which could so easily be ours. I forgive you for trading the truth for a lie. I forgive you for closing yourself off to the one true God, for forgetting your first love.
I forgive you for being adulterous.
I forgive you for weighing me down.
I forgive you for being broken.
I forgive you for the past. I release you from your shame. I give you both permission and encouragement to start a new day without fear, without despair or condemnation, without heaviness, fully expectant of the joy and goodness and glory which our Father longs to give us.
I free you from my control and I give you to Messiah, our Beloved.
P.S. You are still beautiful.