Last night I wrote a blog about being far less than perfect. This morning, I woke up, still flawed, still battered, still in pain.
My perception of Christianity has skewed, Satan whispers, drilling rules and regulations into my head, rules I can never live up to, lists of behaviours that I don't conform to. How being a Christian is all the things I will never be.
A lengthy conversation with a dear friend has helped.
Throwing insults around is not bad, but neither is it nice. I don't loose 'God points' for being miserable, I don't need to win back His love because I haven't read my Bible for a few days. He loves me. End of. And really, I should live in the way He wants me too. I should love my neighbour (even when she has 3am arguments) and when I think bitter, angry thoughts I should try, really try, and pray instead. Not because I should. Not because I think it'll win me my place in heaven. But because I want to, because I love God and I want to be closer too Him, because that's what Christianity is about.
My second time in church I came out in tears, I learnt that Gods love never fails. How He holds you, snug in His arms, and, if you pull away, He squeezes that bit tighter. My first time in church I learnt the freedom of forgiveness, and applied it, truly and honestly, into my life. It was amazing.
I haven't gone to church for the last two weeks.
Right now, I'm sat in peace, the only noise coming from the washing machine. Rinsing clothes, dirty with life and living. Right now, I'm praying that He will help rinse me of the paralysing pollution happening in my mind. Right now, I want rekindle the love, burning in my heart.