Monday Morning Confessional

I confess that I started The Instructions by Adam Levin but never finished it. I loved every bit of it for the first fifty pages, but was put off by its length (1019 pages). I’m not sure I want to invest that kind of time in the book right now.

I confess that money cannot buy happiness, but it can buy vacations to fun places, and those are pretty cool.

I confess that I think limited atonement is a complete joke of a doctrine.

I confess that I am bothered by pleated pants.

I confess that I’m judgmental of anyone I might feel competitive with.

I confess that I’m probably too over-protective with my kids. I confess that I just pretty much assume every adult is out to get my children and so I try to never let them out of my sight. I’m sure that this is due in no small part to the fact that one of the challenges of being a pastor is trying to be hopeful about humanity given everything we know about people and how they hurt each other.

I confess that I bite my fingernails.

I confess that I don’t care about professional baseball. I had no idea Derek Jeter broke his ankle. I confess that I do care about NASCAR (I know this makes no sense), and yet I did not know that Dale Earnhardt Jr. was out for two weeks with a concussion. I have been reading a lot about politics… that’s my excuse.

I confess that I took my friend Randy to rehab this morning. He’ll be there for 28 days. I confess that I hope that he’ll be able to stay sober. I confess that I hope we can help him find a job when he comes out.

I confess that I find myself distracted and zoning out for long moments on most Mondays. Today is no exception.

Okay friends, I made my confession, time for you to make yours.

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  • Wendy

    I confess that I have become a much happier and person by no longer watching or listening to anything regarding the big election next month.

    I confess I’m very critical of myself and regret having passed it along to my kids.

    I confess I feel very silly eating cookies while drinking a Diet Coke.

    I confess that the older I get, the less I enjoy crowds. I confess I feel like my extrovertedness is slowly diminishing. I confess I love my animals so much because I don’t have to watch my every word and never have to wonder if I’m talking too much.

    I confess that I’m struggling immensely with hand outs vs. hand ups. I confess the more I serve, the more I believe more is accomplished with a hand up and that hand outs cripple.

    I confess this feels better then I thought it would 🙂

    I confess I am trying still to learn that my way isn’t the only way. I confess that it ticks me off more often than not. 😉

  • Chris Pittenger

    I confess that even as a little girl, I never liked the idea of public confession. It’s the premise that even as I am in the act of confession, I am committing transgressions that, by definition, would require confession as well. The never-ending cycle seemed pointless. I confess that I wear my ‘game-face’ during confession and I believe everyone else does too. No one confesses their true darkness– only their socially acceptable sin. I confess that I am trying to seem contrite and think up something to say to hide what probably really needs to be said.

    I confess that I resist things that are good for me–especially those suggested by anyone else– this includes confession.

    I confess that true healing and permanent transformation seem like chasing daylight sometimes and it takes connection with God and community and every fiber of my energy and optimism not to lose hope.

    I confess that even though I make it seem like my husband and sons force me to watch baseball, I secretly love it and watch it even when they are not home. I confess that I like the Yankees and that goes against my typical loyalty to the underdog–which now they are without Jeter. :}

  • I confess that I think all is well and all manner of things shall be well…

    While I do not think that contemplative prayer (loosely speaking) should (or even can) be used as a means to any practical end, I confess that my rather eclectic practice does seem to have made me a little more at ease in social situations (which I still tend to avoid). But even so, I confess that after spending an afternoon or evening with people, I still tend to suffer post-traumatic flash-backs for about 24 – 36 hours [not to worry, though — “I can be the space for that” (as I seem to recall Eckhart Tolle putting it)].

    I confess that I bit my fingernails for most of the first 33 years of my life, but quit when I and another nailbiter agreed that we would give $1.00 to charity for each time we caught ourselves biting (I don’t think she lived up to her end of the agreement, but I did and I soon quit biting my nails).

    Having said all this, I confess that I am not the doer — glory be to God for all things! ♥