I don't understand it all. . .

Tonight I fell to my face on my bedroom floor
And found myself in the throne room of God.
I am wicked and evil, shame is upon me once again.
I am dirty inside. I am unclean. I am nothing.
Yet here I am standing before the One who is everything.
You are everything that is lovely and true and praiseworthy.
Everything I am not, the antithesis of me.
Yet here I am.
I do not deserve to be here. I didn’t come here on my own.
I was called here.
The God of the Universe does not need me.
He is perfect, lacking nothing.
Yet here I am, standing before Him, trying to hide out of shame.
I don’t want to be here exactly;
I want to cover up my vileness, not have it exposed.
Why am I here?
This doesn’t make sense.
I am wanted?
Impossible. Simply ludicrous. Are you insane?
Could it be? Really?
I am wanted?
I didn’t do anything to be wanted.
I did everything that would make me undesirable.
Yet here I am and I have not been struck down, although I deserve much worse.
What?
I am wanted? I am loved? I am forgiven? You aren’t giving up on me?
How?
Where did all of my dirt and filth go? Why am I not wearing my shame?
The only explanation:
Grace.
Undeserved, freely given.
Jesus loves me.