For When Shame Won’t Let Go
A Prayer Inspired by Psalm 103:8–13
Some wounds don’t bleed anymore, but they still ache.
That’s how shame feels. Shame lingers in the shadows, whispering, “You’ll never be enough.” I’ve carried it longer than I care to admit, replaying old mistakes, wishing I could undo moments, conversations, decisions.
But then I read Psalm 103 and hear it like a song from another world:
“The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love… He does not punish us for all our sins… He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.”
And I remember:
Shame may cling to me, but God doesn’t.
God lets go. God frees. God heals.
Even the parts of me I’d rather hide.
For When Shame Won’t Let Go
A Prayer Inspired by Psalm 103:8–13
God of Compassion,
You know the things I wish I could forget,
The words I can’t take back,
The moments I disappointed others,
The harm I’ve caused, even unknowingly.
Shame clings to my mind.
It wakes me in the middle of the night.
It whispers names that aren’t mine,
But I start to believe them anyway.
Yet your mercy is larger than my memory.
Your grace doesn’t rehearse my regrets.
You don’t define me by my worst day.
You liberate me from my sin,
Farther than east is from west.
That far. That free.
You don’t shame me into holiness.
You love me into wholeness.
You hold my face, not to scold, but to soothe.
So help me let go of what you’ve already released.
Help me rest in your kindness.
Help me live like I’m forgiven,
Because I am.
And when the old voices come back,
Let your love be louder.
Let your name be the one I trust.
Remind me of who I am,
Your beloved child of God.
I am a beloved child of the God of Love.
That is who I am.
Beloved.
Amen.
Sometimes, it isn’t even shame. It’s the residue. Things happen. Painful things. Sometimes I have a part, but not always. Sometimes it’s important for me to learn something Bigger. Something I’d never seek out on my own. Genuine humility, for example. Being the right size. When these painful lessons come, I do learn and grow, but I live in an imperfect world and time so along with the necessary growth comes pain that often lingers. It’s all too easy to feel and see only the residue, which, for me at least, is where an active and disciplined practice of gratefulness comes in. There are days, sometimes whole swaths of time, when prayer and meditation and focusing on gratefulness are an absolute slog. “Not “feeling” it.” That’s where patient endurance comes in. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.
Shame is very painful.