Awe-Filled

Dear God,
If I simply tell you I'm in awe, do you understand?

Because I don't have words to tell you how sorry I am for the ways I am not you.

How do I even begin to tell you how humbled I am when I give you every reason to retaliate, to walk away, to say I've gone too far, and instead, you do these crazy things that say, "You think you're inadequate for this, but let me show you what I really have in mind," and it is so much bigger than I could ever dream?

How do I hit my knees fast enough or long enough to change enough to be remotely what you are worthy of?

And I walk down a path I think is the right one, and smack my head into a wall because I was small-faithed and small-visioned and instead of telling me how you are greatly disappointed, you put out all these wildly amazing reassurances that I haven't fallen off the path, just maybe stepped a bit wrong, but even that is still open for discussion because you are God and you have miraculous ways of making missteps the steps that couldn't be missed, and somehow in my stumbling and bumbling you know I really want desperately to be perfect for you to show you how much I know you are worth being perfect for, and you really are so worth it.

And I want to ask, "How?", but how could I ever know, except to know you are God.

And that is it.
You are God,
and I am in awe.