Mountain Climbing

I'm wishing God kept His promises the way I expect Him to.
He does keep His promises, I'm not saying He doesn't, He just doesn't do it "the way I expect Him to".
Read this:

7But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.
8If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.
9If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

That comes from 1 John chapter 1.

What Christian feels he's been cleansed from all sin? or that he's been cleansed from all unrighteousness? Actually, reading the whole chapter just confuses me.
First it says He'll cleanse us from sin, but if we say we have no sin, the truth isn't in us, then it says He'll cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Make up your mind. Do I have sin or don't I?

Actually, that isn't much of a question at all, because I can answer that one easily. I do. I do have sin. I'm tired of sin. I'm tired of seeing it in me. I'm worn from looking at my own life and seeing so many stains of my sins. I sincerely, and with a grieved heart CONFESS.
There isn't one sinful charge in the world that can't be brought against me. How many have I murdered in my heart by my thoughts? How much have I stolen in my greedy, jealous thoughts? Who haven't I hurt? Who haven't I cheated? Whether in thought or in actual deed I've done it. And He knows I've done it. I'm guilty and I admit it, and I need Him to do something about it.

I don't want Him to leave me here in my wretchedness. If I thought killing a cow, setting it on fire and sprinkling blood all around symbolically would cleanse me from unrighteousness, I assure you I would have long since purchased myself a cow.

But it won't.

Someone, the only Someone, that can cleanse me has already died.

And I need His cleansing.


To try and describe it, it's like mountain climbing. You reach a peak where you're able to see higher up the mountain and anyone looking at you - rather than the mountain- thinks you've gone a long way. But when you turn your eyes to the mountain, you see the long long journey that's ahead. You see the steps you haven't taken and it makes where you're standing seem not nearly good enough.

Where I am isn't good enough.

Don't get me wrong, I'm amazingly glad to have made it this far spiritually, but I can't tell you how much higher I need to climb. How desperately I need to climb. A life without climbing, is no longer worth living to me.
I wish I could describe for you what the Mountain looks like, how high it is, and how insignificant it makes you feel clinging to the side of the Mountain seeing how mind-blowingly huge it is.
It's more than I can take in.
He's more than I can take in. But, OH, I want so much more.