Once in a saintly passion
I cried with a desperate grief.
"Oh Lord, my heart is black with guile,
Of sinners I am chief.
Then stooped my guardian angel
And whispered from behind;
"Vanity, my little (Woman),
You're nothing of the kind."
I walk the difficult, steep steps of trying to be honest with myself. Yes, I should record the pieces of chocolate I ate in my food journal, even if it pushes me over my limit. And sometimes I take the fast way down by beating myself up for not being 100% honest in all my actions. It is vanity to see myself as a saint and as a liar. Neither is true.