Morning breaks and thankfully his mercies are new, because as per usual I am a mess. Habitual sin seeps in and snatches me up before I want to be awake. Why is it that I don’t feel the distance from God after sin like a feel the distance of a far away friend? After it happens, sometimes it is as if I want to scream. How can I leave the one I love? How could I choose this? I slip into a confessional, head hung low. I whisper what I have done and it never seems like enough. He came to earth in the lowliest of ways, died so that I might be free, and all I can do is whisper “I’m sorry” to him behind a priest on a rainy winter day? “Go in peace,” he says. So I wait upon my savior, he comes as a child. How far he would go for a scrambling, running, sinning woman like me. All of the mess, its not too dirty for his love. In fact, he opens the door wide to let me back in when I whisper to him in the sacrament. I flutter down the church steps, whispering my “Hail Mary”. I realize I am nothing without his love. His love will always redeem me, his grace will always carry me. He is the one who sets me free.