I don't have anything to sell, barely anything to give. I'm tired more than I'm not, my body aches most mornings, and I lean toward dysthymia as a default.
Look at me and see that I have ticked most of the boxes of success. Still, I feel that I have disappointed most people, especially those closest to me, the ones whose approval I crave the most.
Thank the Lord for grace. I have fucked up in ways big and small. Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. Give us our daily bread. Our daily grace. It allows us to sin freely, but oh how it makes me feel like a toilet bowl.
Thank the Lord for grace. Even if I don't feel it, don't believe it, it's there. Grace doesn't care if I believe in it or not.
Mr. Jason Isbell sang it perfectly in "Cover Me Up":
Cover me up
And know you're enough
To use me for good.
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