Well, it looks like I've messed myself up. Again. My Father has been training me not to, but here I am, wallowing in my own filth. It seemed like the most logical thing to do at the time. I needed release, and it's so much easier to do it the way I'm used to; my way comes a lot more naturally to me.
As soon as I thought Father wasn't watching me, I snuck off into my corner and did my business. But the funny thing is, I couldn't shake the feeling that He was completely aware of what I was doing. Fathers seem to have a way of instinctively knowing what their childeren are up to. Even worse, I found that I just couldn't feel the same kind of satisfaction that I used to. It was easier to do my thing before He began training me. Now I know there is a better way than my own, but why do I find myself going back to the familiar?
This stinks. Literally. I can't even stand myself. How can anyone stand me? I see the way noses wrinkle when I walk by; my escapades are often the butt of many jokes from my brothers and sisters. If this is how THEY feel about me, how must Father feel? He never has any accidents; He wouldn't understand. Maybe I should just avoid Him altogether. I'll find a way to clean up my own mess; then I can come back to Him and we can enjoy each other's company.
Aw, who am I kidding? I'm just a baby--I don't know the first thing about cleaning myself up! I don't think my brothers and sisters will be much help in that area either. They're still pretty young and clumsy; if they try to fix me, my mess will probably end up all over the place. Only Father knows how to get rid of my filth. He's always done it before, and when He cleans me up, He REALLY cleans me up.
But if I go to Father for help, He's gonna know what I've done. He's gonna know that I haven't been putting His training into practice. He's gonna smell my disgusting stench and see my putrid mess. What if I make Him so angry that He decides I'm too bratty to train and stops being my Father?
I want to keep hiding. I'm embarassed that I soiled myself even though I know better, but I know I can't stay this way. If I continue to live in the mess I've made, it will probably make me very sick. I have no choice but to go to Father, even if it means exposing my shame.
Besides, He probably already knows what I did. I'm a baby; making messes is what I do. He's training me to grow up from being a baby. In the meantime I just have to keep coming back to Him and letting Him cleanse me the way only He knows how. When I look back, some of the best times I've had with Father has been when He's been wiping me clean. That's when we have each other's undivided attention.
I'm gonna do it. Who cares if it's embarassing! Who cares if it takes some time to clean me. I'm going back to Father. I need a change.