Letter To God: My Secret Sin

Dear God,

Good day. I thought that would be the most appropriate greeting since I can’t tell what the weather is in heaven from here.

In my head, I feel like I should begin this letter in my praying format, you know, where I start by calling you nice names and all that. But I just want to cut right to the chase.

I did it. Again.

I remember swearing, casting and binding on the 31st of December, that come this year, 2019, I would not dip my hands inside the cream bottle, rub it down below then massage it till it makes more cream. I swore never to click when my whole body itches to hear those animated moans and screams.

I swore. I prayed. I casted. I meant it.

Today, I did it.

It’s not Your fault. I mean, you didn’t take my hands to the porn site. In fact, you kept warning me, gently. I heared Your Spirit all the time asking me to stop. I wanted to, but couldn’t. So yes, it’s my fault, I know. I feel the guilt as I usually would feel. But You know what? Writing this letter to you now actually makes me feel better. It reminds me that I’m human in constant need of You. I will fall, but I will also rise. Though I’ll admit, falling and rising sucks. It sucks big time.

Perhaps, if I had occupied my mind with Your word, it wouldn’t have had space for anything else. Perhaps, if I had less confidence in my flesh, and more in Your word, I wouldn’t be writing this letter right now.

That’s it!

Yahweh, You rock mehn. I love how You reply me while I’m still writing. You don’t even waste time sef.

I will write You soon. Hopefully, not in this matter again.

Your son,
You know my name.