“Right now someone exists who has disappointed and offended us, someone with whom we are continually displeased and with whom we are most impatient, irritated, unforgiving, and spiteful than we would dare be with anyone else. That person is ourselves. We are so often fed up with ourselves. We’re sick of our own mediocrity, revolted by our own inconsistency, bored by our own monotony. We would never judge any other of God’s children with the savage self-condemnation with which we crush ourselves. We must be patient, gentle, and compassionate with ourselves in the same way we try to love our neighbor.” (p. 142.)
I find myself asking questions like:
- Am I willing to let myself be loved as much as God wants to love me?
- Am I waiting to be worthy of such love?
- How long a wait would that be?