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Often

Often I wonder…

If I had my own prophet,

My own revelator,

Would my life be different?

What changes would I make?

Perhaps it’s better not to know,

And endure life’s hardships,

Only to learn from the pain,

To salvage a lesson

Often I am frustrated…

By mistakes and failures of the past,

How they haunt me,

How I act as my own tormentor,

Punishing myself,

With regret and self-loathing.

Often I’ am astonished…

By the forgiveness of a loving God,

Who saw the ugliness of my heart,

But cleansed it with the blood of His own,

Though I was most unworthy,

A God who believed in me,

While I could not believe in myself.

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