I spit in His face. I run away. I find comfort from everyone and everything but Him. I destroy His temple. I've destroyed this beautiful thing He created. And then I'm broken and crying, and whose always there? Jesus He's on that cross and He's still taking those beatings for me. FOR ME... I use His name. Abuse His grace. And He's still there... Nothing knocks me to my knees quicker than that realization.