I stand here. Humbled and contrite.

I've been going to church for as long as I can remember.
I've served and done 'Christian duties' for nearly all my adult life.
On appearances alone, I may seem like a model person for youth to emulate.
Yet despite all that, I have failed as a Christian many times over.

This week was one of them.

And it was NOT borne out of a troubled situation.
The family is well. Work, although difficult, has been something I could cope with. I've never felt abandoned, despised, threatened or discriminated against.
In other words, there'd be a sore lack of a reason for me to have acted the way I had.
No other reason, perhaps for the fact that I have been impatient, and my faith was tried and it faltered.

I can't say just yet as to what exactly I had done. But I will say this: It had brought me close to the place where I was before - when I started feeling numb and not caring whether I did wrong or right, so long as it felt good.

What some would call guilt, I call the pleadings of the Holy Spirit - reminding me of my sin, telling me it is wrong. But most importantly, that I already am forgiven and I simply need to acknowledge my sin, repent from it and ask for restoration.

And so... here I am to be broken once more.
Pride, folly, selfishness, insincerity, vanity to be purged.

Despite the many times I've gone through these, it never gets easier. If at all, it's more painful to see myself repeating the same mistakes over and over. To fail Him with the same task again and again.

And yet herein, too, lies the comfort and reassurance that despite the shame, He will take me back.

Grace has promised it so.

I can't say for sure when the prodigal daughter will be fully restored, but she certainly has asked to be lifted from the mud.