I am struggling with whether God genuinely forgives me. Intellectually, I know that is blasphemous. But right now, it is not easy.

I am evermore conscious that I can be so hurtful, so selfish and so proud.

If that was not enough, I can be so private that sometimes it feels that even the left side of my brain does not know what the right is doing. So carefully do I reveal specifically what to whom that I can appear dressed in white, while my flesh is decaying underneath.

It is exhausting. It is like I am running anaerobically, and feel that since I am going far, I must be travelling well. Eventually though, the oxygen debt catches up. And now I think the bailiffs are knocking on my door.

I do not feel God when I pray. I feel abandoned. More than that, I feel I deserve to be abandoned. I know this looks like self-pity – but no one is reading this. I write here, and not just in my personal journal, because I publish more than just my first thoughts.

That is enough for now.

Although as I write this, I picked up my Bible and read part of Romans 7:24-25:

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Maybe there is hope.