My best beloved, most trusted, my intimate companion since your childhood. I know your faith is imperfect. I know that old worm doubt gnaws at your heart and tears wash your cheeks.
You think you sin in murder. But hear me, as I have told you every way I know how: you would only sin if you stayed your hand. If you do not chain a rabid dog, are you not responsible for the children the bitch attacks? If you do no crush the spider in your infant's crib, are you not responsible for its venomous bite? If you leave a fire unchecked, are you not responsible for every innocent burnt?
In every case, Sloth would make you a murderer. You would not need lift a finger and still be a terrible killer in the mind of God.
Just as every life you do not take that could even maybe defeat The Enemy, who would murder and rape the whole wide world, is killing by sloth. For the Enemy is surely rabid, and venomous, and a hungry inferno.
Hold fast. Push the knife. You need no forgiveness because you do not sin. Know that Temple Gate needs you. Know that I love you. That God loves you.