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Growing up, I was always very hard on myself. I was very critical and even self-abusive, of no fault to my parents. I knew that what I did was never good enough and that drove me to self-loathing. I hated myself because I could never remove the guilt my wrong actions brought with them. A spanking was justly given - and many did I rightly receive - but my spirit knew better: I was guilty. So, I tried harder. But when continual failure met even my best efforts, I became even more self-loathsome.
When I began to trust Jesus at the age of six, I became indebted to Him. At times I loved Him, but usually I feared Him. I was unsure of His love for me, though everywhere I turned I heard that "God loves you." I had a lot for which to pay Him back; how could God love me when I still did wrong?