Stream of consciousness...

I wrote this at about midnight last night and just wrote, only going back to correct my horrific spelling oversights so if it doesn't track quite right then.. well. that'd be why

This evening I was sat with my roommate talking about confession and what a powerful method it is to release us from the fear and shame that sin holds on us.

But bow often do I confess my sin and seek forgiveness?

When I'm told to before I take Holy Communion?
When I know in my heart that I have wronged someone?
When I feel the weight of guilt of an action I know I shouldn't have committed?

How about those daily niggles?

Those bitchy, throw-away comments that sometimes slip out.
But they're ok because 'At least I'm being honest.' Right?
The criticism I justify because its 'constructive'.
The sarsacm I just can't seem to keep inside because, well I'm Brtiish.
I mean, so what if I  allow a look to linger just   a
                                                                                 little  
                                                                                            too                    long        ?
Or I hold onto a thought that I shouldn't nurture.

Before I know it I've categorized sin into 'Small' 'Medium' and 'Large' '
I dismiss confessing 'minor' sin because, well, its hardly worth mentioning.
But it is still sin and no matter how small, how trivial, how faint a blemish it might make to the eyes of those around me it is still a mark on something God desires to be perfect.
All sin is serious and yet I still put them in trays to be 'dealt with later'

Yet soon the box labeled 'Small' is actually quite large itself and I'm beginning to wish I had sought forgiveness sooner because at least then the burden would be lighter.
The guilt battles with the desire to be free and yet to be released means admitting my faults, my failures, my fickleness and putting up my hands to say,
'These are the things I've thought I've said I've done. I can't cover them on my own, please help!'

My common sense shouts loudly behind me: 'You're only human! Just hide the box and run!'
As if in support, the voice of the World reasons logically,
'Don't worry, no body knows. Just relax. This is who you are, it can't be changed'

Both sound loudly and with confidence but they soon grow worn out with all the effort of their show and as they tire I can't help but hear the comforting cheer of a voice that has been there along, speaking with a deep yet gentle authority,
'Do not be afraid, you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated'

I daily fail and yet not matter how seemingly insignificant and unnoticed those failures still matter and separate me from the one I love.
But this does not deter me because God's love is so much greater than my mistakes.
The battle still rages inside of me, saying that He is tired of my prayers for help, he is tired of my basic inability to go one day, hour, moment without slipping up and that actually, I've gone too far this time.

He demands perfection, and I am far from that, but we have His Son, interceding for us, covering our shame and giving us the confidence to kneel before Him in his Holiness and be accepted as His child.
'