I feel like an imposter. I feel exactly like the Pauper of the Prince and the Pauper. I'm in a palace, and I'm pretending to be something I'm not. I'm not royalty, who am I kidding?? And here I stand, invited into the presence of the King and afraid that he'll see me for what I really am, a prostitute, and his eyes will darken with a sense of
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I am completly, utterly, bankrupt. Helpless, hopless, incurable. And God knew it infinitly more than I can when He did something about it.
And He loves me infinitely more than I understand, knowing that I am not going to get out of this flesh and all its corruptions until I die.
And so now all I have to do is not be helpless or stuck in this body and its corruptions so that He doesnt find out what a wretch I really am so that He will keep loving me.... wait...
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