Mistaken Love

Mistakes or wrong choices in life, most of the time, are what breaks down and destroys one's own soul. I don't know how it works exactly, because I am sure anyone who has been ashamed or felt remorse for a mistake would choose not to feel the unwavering torment that you are no longer innocent. You're broken inside from all of the mistakes and wrong doings, and no matter how hard you try to be better or different nothing will make it disappear or be forgotten. It is something your body and brain react to together, making yourself feel so worthless. If you could control it, those feelings, you would certainly go easier on yourself, but you can't control it and it is always written on your life. If your life is a mural, it is so disorganized and smeared that you sometimes don't recognize it. That is the kind of guilt and shame I am talking about, the kind you can't say oh everyone does that, or I didn't know any better, or have an excuse for it at all. It is in those times, those moments, that you feel alone and unlovable. There is no explanation for it or why you do things that are just wrong. We all have a need to be seen or feel like we are perfect, and maybe that is the feeling when we do wrong it is just one step closer to being imperfect. So, once you make a mistake and screw up you are no longer perfect, you are no longer innocent. I think that is when we don't see a way out and just keep doing things to cover the pain of that self rejection or try to forget it. I never get over this part of finding God right in the middle of my messy ugly imperfect life. I am so unfaithful to God's love towards me, I have mistaken his love for me no matter what I do. His love breaks down that barrier of needing to be perfect, or needing to be innocent. I am not sure that God forgets what I have done more than he loves me with all of my mistakes and wrong choices. I wouldn't be me without all my choices, and mistakes are choices I have made. I believe God accepts what I have done, and knows deep down inside I punish myself more than anyone else could. Instead of dismissing me to an eternal hellish dwelling along with my mistakes, instead of simply rewriting over my own existence and saying he has forgotten, I think and hope Jesus shows up all messy and unorganized like a child who doesn't judge me for being mistaken, and just hugs me for who I am. Deep in that love I'll forget what I have done, God won't, but I will. I know I am with and for him and he is with me. That makes me perfect enough.