I think God hates me, if I may be honest. I can't tell you how many times any chance at success or happiness I've had has been cut off at the knees. Still, I'm compelled to try to trust in Him. After all, it could always be worse. I just wish I could feel that love everyone says He has for them. But why would God love me? I'm a wretch. A filthy man, a chief of sinners.