Surviving the Light

I sin daily. I sin hourly. I sin with every notion of myself ahead of others. I sin because I am human, and this is what humans do. The onus of awareness of my sins weighed upon me so relentlessly I sought refuge in denial. But I could not hide from what I knew. Somewhere inside of me was a spirit, a tiny wretched spirit that cried out for help. A friend heard the cry. On Easter Eve she pointed me toward a light. I had known of this light and at times had tried to see it. I'd peek at it now and again, but for some reason I felt afraid to look at it directly. I trusted my friend, and with this trust I dared to look straight into the light's burning essence. Jolted and troubled, I slept little that night. Easter morning I arose earlier than usual, feeling uneasy and strange, lost. Then, without warning, Jesus Christ reached out to me. I felt His touch and I knew beyond all reasonable doubt He was with me. He loved me. He forgave me, for being human. I still sin, every day, every hour. I'm human. So was Jesus.