I confess that I am getting really tired of being sick! The flu turned into pneumonia and has totally slammed me. I lost ten pounds last week, can you believe that? … not a weight loss plan I would recommend. Anyway, Dr. Scott gave me some sort of nuclear-powered antibiotics and I’m finally starting to feel a little better. I’m hopeful that this will be a week of productivity and healing. I confess that I owe my wife big time for picking up the slack while I’ve been struggling of late. She’s good people.
I confess that during the winter I often hang my Diet Dr. Pepper out of my office window in a plastic bag instead of walking it out to the fridge. I know it’s kind of a trashy thing to do, but it gets much colder that way and saves me a few steps. It’s a win/win situation, yeah?
I confess that I have not run since the Saturday after Thanksgiving Day. I confess that I have hardly taken a deep breath in the past week unless it was in the middle of a coughing fit. I confess that I am just starting to glimpse how hard it’s going to be to crank the exercise routine back into full gear.
I confess that we are working through Isaiah during advent, and I really love this book. In fact, the prophets in general are such an incredibly rich corpus. If you want to have your imagination shaped by the imagination God has for the world, the prophets are your guys. I wish that I had taken more classes on prophetic literature during seminary. I am especially thankful this week for the Feasting on the Word commentary, edited by Barbara Brown Taylor. When you follow the lectionary, there is simply not a better preaching resource out there. I’m also really thankful for Walter Brueggemann’s commentary on Isaiah… WB is the man.
I read today that more wives Google “is my husband gay,” than “is my husband cheating,” or “is my husband an alcoholic.” I confess that if my wife were Googling worries about me, I’m pretty sure they would be something like “Does my husband have a book fetish?” Yes… Yes is the answer you are looking for.
I confess that straight up vulgarity is less and less funny to me these days. Ron Burgunday notwithstanding (really any Will Ferrell for that matter), I’m less and less impressed with comedians who only seem able to work blue. It’s just too easy to go for the crotch. I want people to work for irony, teaching me something funny about our species and our society, and tell good stories. While I was sick I tried to watch Sarah Silverman’s stand up special on HBO twice, and literally couldn’t get through the first five minutes. Come on comedians. We need you to be on your game. Step it up a little bit, and stop using the f-bomb three times in the same sentence.
I’m sure there is much more that I need to confess here, but I’ve got to get to work. So, this confession will have to do for me. Now it’s time for you to make yours…