An ode to the fall

I hate that the fall means speaking the truth will sometimes hurt people I love.  I hate that the the fall means that I frequently trip over the line between speaking truth in love and speaking beyond truth in anger. I hate that the fall means that my pride can make me a hypocrite who is quick to speak and slow to listen. I hate that the falls gives me prideful confidence in my own wisdom.

I hate the fall.

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?

On days like this I can but cry ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come!’

What do you think?