I Have Been a Sinner My Entire Life

https://youtu.be/DO175UCac1Q?si=PPWhP7VKuzxL9imE: Visual Art

I would define myself as someone who is deeply loving, calm, caring. I go to church as frequently as I can. I donate monthly to my local animal shelter. I try not to curse. Or yell. I pray as much as I can, and forgive more than I probably should.

But I have been a sinner my entire life.

I make mistakes. Sometimes, purposeful mistakes.

I’m envious. I have a jealousy issue. A short temper. An on and off again battle with lust. A tendency to lie. A habit of assumption. Lifestyle of overconsuming. Lack of emotional control. Not all of the time, but often when it seems to matter the most.

There’s a theme here that I have grown aware of over the past few years: that is

Sin and purity. Love and hate. To be spiritual yet grounded. To be aware, yet ignorant.

She’s a hardworking, multi-business owning entrepreneurial woman. Yet her biggest downfall isn’t her laziness. It’s her inner desire to escape the lifestyle of materialistic obsession. To avoid the cursed land of fame and success. Her financial status displayed as greed and it feels like sin. Realizing the true key to life is contentment and real success is defined by love. So she pauses. Tries to find balance. Picks up soul soothing hobbies and listens to mind expanding forms of auditory consumption. No longer dictating her community, but she’s involved in her community, no longer directing the decisions, but a part of the difference making, becoming a leader, but to something much bigger than herself. The same driven woman, but she has traded the height of her bank account for the depth of connection.

So she’s an overgiving, endlessly compassionate light beam of a woman. Her biggest downfall won’t be her inconsistency. Yet it’s her inability to prioritize the care for herself. The constant cycle of low energy, low resources, and empty cups that are starting to collect. Her sink is overflowing but with more cups that she gives out of her own and those that she takes in to fix and refill, her sink is both empty and flooding. Her cabinets have nothing in them yet the weight is comparably heavy. It becomes a sin to herself. So she pauses. Tries to find balance. Makes the bed, folds her laundry, her hair is detangled. Slowly, her dishes are washed. New dishes are bought. Healing herself to give more healing back. Generating wealth to give more wealth back. The same caring woman, but she has traded the quantity of giving for the quality of receiving.

Now a woman who lives for herself. She dances wildly, sings loudly, and laughs freely. But it seems as though the bigger the house she builds, the more steps she has to take to get to others. The bigger the garden she grows, the more weeds she has to clean up around the flowers. A downfall that will not be created by loneliness, but the underlying illusion of self expression hidden in sin. She is the same free-spirited woman, but she traded connection for isolation, selflessness for ego, vulnerability for protection. Fear of cracking, fear of breaking, fear of over pouring, under pouring, she doesn't know how to be perceived because she does’;t know how to perceive. What is right? What is wrong? What is success? What is greed? What is lust? What is human biology? What is being full and what is indulging?

She learned that when not met with the correct amount or direction of sunlight, soil can become filtered with this fear and hesitation. Sin is easy to grow when it is buried in the dark, occurring without others viewing.

But I’ve learned that sin can exist in the light as well.

It can exist in success, it can exist in community, it can exist in loneliness. It has no boundaries it knows no empathy. It keeps no score.

It feels impossible to escape. It is shameful and angry. No matter how many identities I shift into, how many times I reprioritize my priorities and rewrite the script for that given time it still finds me in moments when I’m late for work, when a project isn’t going the way I planned it, the food I ordered was missing an item, a shirt doesn’t fit the way I intended, when disagreements turn into fights, dinner turns into 5 drinks, watching a movie turns into sin of the flesh and morning coffee turns into sin of the eyes.

I’ve been a sinner my entire life.

Carrying this heavy cloud above my body, a thunderstorm of memories pounding into my head when I try to change. Holding me down as a weighted blanket does saying that I can’t move I can’t change. As I lie here in this puddle of sin, this shallow pool of shame and regret, wanting to change but not knowing what needs changing, thinking I've changed and realizing my ways have stayed the same, I just found easier ways around the term sin to make it look justifiable. Changeable.

But if sin is just a cloud, then the sun will clear it away. And if sin is just a blanket, then the warmth of my body will do without. And if sin is just a weed, then surely the flowers will still survive. It has so many boundaries, it knows no empathy, it keeps no score. Therefore the presence of a sin does not dictate my being, much as a drop of rain does not dictate whether the sun is still shining or not.

I have been a sinner my entire life.

But sin has never been the whole story.

I have been a sinner my entire life,

But underneath its clouds and roots, I find grace and renewal.