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March 10, 2004
Blogger Idol - Week 8: I Confess ("B.I. Blues")
I’ve got the “B.I. Blues.” I confess. I didn’t think it would happen. In fact, I was pretty confident that the inspiration that I was getting from the weekly Blogger Idol themes would make it very very difficult. But, I confess. I confess that I don’t want to write an entry for Week 8. I feel like I don’t have any real ideas, but I don’t think that’s the case.
And, my inability to write is not the only thing that’s getting me down. Part of it is the fact that others seem so apt to confessing — I mean, how did people who aren’t even playing this “game” come up with completely appropriate Blog entries this week? First, take a look at my pastor’s Blog: all about our environment and ecology, but wrapped up in an honest yet tidy little confession. Then, of course, there’s the Preacher’s confession. Man, this would be the winner of this week’s Idol competition if it had only been entered. It gives me the chills. I wish I could be this open.
So, I confess: I can’t confess.
But, that’s not the whole story, I know. The reality is, I’ve alway had a hard time confessing anything. Why? Pride. I know this. It is more comfortable for me to keep things inside than to suffer humiliation or embarrassment or exposure or any other feeling that comes from opening up. This seems strange, though, being that every time I have ever actually confessed something (to anyone aside from our Creator), it has begun a healing process in which I ended up becoming a better person. So why am I so scared?
(You’re all smart readers. You surely caught the fact that I just confessed of my pride in the previous paragraph. And that wasn’t so scary was it? But, I’ve confessed of that one before. Pride is nothing new. Especially not to me.)
So, I began this entry confessing to have no confessions. That moved quickly into an old favorite. And now… Now, I confess of being blue; saddenned by the fact that a subject as simple as “I Confess” can be so utterly complicated for me. Not only am I unable to grab on to the reigns of this God-given gift of spiritual cleansing, but I let it continually frighten me. It looms off in the distance. It hides behind the far corner. It creeps up behind me and breathes it’s warm breath on my neck.
And I am left with nothing.
Confession. My nemesis. I confess that I am powerless against you.
Posted at 4:23 pm
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