You can’t judge me, for I condemn myself. I don’t ask or want forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. I’ve made far too many mistakes in this life. I’ve made more mistakes than 10 men combined. I’ve hurt more people and caused more pain than you could ever imagine. I’ve been a disappointment from day one. I disappoint myself! And I often question the thoughts behind my actions, and I don’t have a good answer. I’m compulsive, self destructive and a walking talking disaster. I question every decision I make just because I am a thought away from another bad decision.
The Apostle Paul wrote in first Corinthians 4:3 that he doesn’t even judge himself. Maybe this is another bad decision judging myself so harshly and condemning myself as being unforgiven. But that’s the way I feel, so why hide what you truly feel about yourself? I know that I am not worthy of forgiveness. I live with a daily guilt that runs so deep. A guilt over Connie’s death, over Sarah, Ann and Adreesa, that just eats me alive. I live with the guilt about the way I treated Lisa, a guilt of allowing Josie to ruin her life. A guilt of not being a better son to my mother. A guilt of Charles Carter’s death, the death of Ronald Willis, the death of my friend Jimbo. I live with the guilt of the death of the couple I hit head on in a car wreck in August 1987 that cost them their life. I live with the guilt of not being more responsible, getting my dumb ass off drugs and alcohol. I live with the guilt that most of you could never possibly imagine. So I am my own judge and I find myself unforgiven. I know my faults, my crimes and my heart, and I am not worthy of forgiveness.
It is written in Exodus 10:20 that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart and because God did this, who is to say he did not show mercy and compassion to Pharaoh? For it is written in Exodus 33:19.b “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” In my instances, if I am shown compassion and mercy, so be it but “I” know that I do not deserve compassion or mercy. I don’t want prayers. If you want to pray for me, you send my prayers to God for that child that is dying and suffering in your local hospital. Send your prayers to that mother who is praying for that dying child. For there are too many deserving people in this world that deserve a blessing, an answered prayer and I am not one of them. I’ve had contempt in my heart for God, from the moment I came into this world, or at least from when I lost my Big Ma, another painful, guilty memory.
I don’t have the answers to the mysterious questions of life. I only know what I’ve experienced and what I feel, and you can not say this, that or the other. For you have not walked in my shoes, and thank God you haven’t! For this has been one rough path that I wouldn’t wish for anyone else to have to travel. I have no problem showing mercy and compassion to others. For I know the heart of fallible man, and how we sit back and question our own mistakes, our own stupidity. Yes, I probably should be more forgiving to myself, but the reality is, I can’t. I am the unforgiven and I wrote this because of my sister Mary and others who have said “you need to learn to ask for forgiveness.” But I don’t forgive myself, so I can’t ask others to forgive me. All I can say is “I am very sorry for the pain and anguish I have caused, and for the mistakes that I have made.” Sorry doesn’t cut it, it doesn’t fix a broken heart. So yes, I remain to be the unforgiven.