My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
If you thought the gift of self so unworthy of God, why then did you offer it to him? Let God judge the worthiness. Believe his acceptance, his delight in what you offer. Trust you are not a gift he puts in the back of his closet.
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