I’m carrying something deep within me — something that feels heavy and haunted, something I’ve tried so desperately to control and manage on my own. And yet, no matter how hard I try, it keeps coming back, it keeps taking a hold of me, it keeps reminding me that I’m not as strong as I pretend to be.

It’s painful to admit, God, but I’m stuck. I’m trapped by something I thought I’d never struggle with, something I’ve told myself I could overcome if I just tried more, or prayed harder, or believed in a deeper way. I’ve asked for forgiveness a thousand times, I’ve promised myself it would never happen again, but here I am, weighed down by the shame of the very cycle I keep repeating.

Honestly, God, I feel like a fraud. Those I care about in my life see the version of me I carefully curate and present to make them happy. They see the smiling, faithful, put-together version of me who seems to have it all figured out. They don’t know the war I’m silently fighting. They don’t know how often I doubt my worthiness, or my strength, or my right to stand before you. 

There is a voice inside of my heart telling me that I’m too far gone. That I am beyond forgiveness, beyond grace, and beyond healing. It convinces me that if anyone found out, they’d abandon me. They’d judge me. They’d reject me. It tells me that I’ve failed you in ways I cannot come back from, in ways that cannot be redeemed.

But God, today I’m choosing to believe that voice is a lie. Even though I’m scared, even though the shame feels overwhelming, I’m choosing to trust that your love isn’t conditional. I’m choosing to believe that there’s no sin so heavy, no secret so dark, no mistake so destructive that you would turn away from me.

Please, God, give me courage to finally be honest — not just with you, but with myself. Help me to stop hiding, help me to step out from behind the fear that has kept me silent. Bring safe people into my life who will meet my confession with compassion, and grace, and accountability rather than judgment or condemnation. Let me experience the healing that comes when darkness is brought into your light.

Remind me, God, that shame isn’t your mission. Remind me that, no matter what, you will always call me back gently, and that I’m not too broken, too flawed, or too lost for you. Remind me that you so selflessly died so I wouldn’t have to carry this alone, so I wouldn’t have to stay constricted in this ache, so I could be free.

God, teach me to accept your grace as something you freely give, and not as something I need to fight to earn. Remind me that honesty, not perfection, is what you have always desired from me, that true healing comes only when I stop hiding. Remind me that you already know every corner of my heart, and you still choose me.

Here I am, God. I am messy, I am flawed, and I am still struggling. But I’m ready now. I surrender this secret to you, trusting that it won’t change the way you love me. Remind me, every day, that your tenderness heals even the darkest of things. 

Thank you for holding me completely, God. Thank you for seeing all of me clearly, and for staying beside me, even here, and even now.

Amen.