At the close of each day, I often write a letter to God—a quiet prayer wrapped in words.
One evening, as I sat down to write as usual, I suddenly grew curious about what I had written in the past. I opened the file where my old letters were saved and began to read. As I scrolled through them, long-forgotten emotions came rushing back. Some letters made me smile; others brought a sting to my eyes. But as I kept reading, something else stood out—many of the letters sounded remarkably similar. Even the confessions I had written years ago were nearly identical to those I had penned recently. It embarrassed me to see how I had been making the same mistakes, year after year.
Repentance means not only regret, but reform. I had often felt sorry, but seldom changed. That is not true repentance. So from now on, I will end each day not only with reflection, but with renewal. I want the letters I write to God to be filled not only with tears of remorse, but also with the joy of growth.