The title sounds a bit somber, and I am entering into this post not entirely meaning to be that way. I would like to say funny things and make everyone laugh, but it might not turn out that way. Just to ease your worries, there are no bodies or wounds or illicit substances. In fact, it might seem a little silly to some that I would even feel the need to confess this, because in relation to one of the above activities it's kind of a wimpy confession. But I want to start off with something that I meant to explore in January, and that I feel I really need to get out in the open so that I will deal with it. And if I am going to make this any kind of blog where I grow and share my faith with the few other people in the world that read my ramblings, I had better be honest. Right?
Here goes... but wait.
First of all, the women's conference I attended last night and most of today was amazing. The message God gave to our speaker just filleted me right open. And I have enough to write about after all we heard to easily fill a month worth's of posts. But, I am going to pause on all that, because I have a couple of conversations that I need to have with God before I can even begin to wrap my mind, and most of all my heart, around what He has in store for me.
Back to January. New Year's-ish time. Pastor handed us back some envelopes with our names on them. In these envelopes, he explained, were our own personal lists of things we were praying that God would do in our lives in 2011. We were to pause, reflect, pray, read the list, review, repeat, etc. This was supposed to be a time of examination and reflection. A time to think on our lives over the last year, to thank God for the things He had done and pray about what God wanted to do in our lives in 2012. A church-ified New Year's Resolution ritual. Meant to be inspiring and exciting.
Filled me with dread and regret.
I was busy at the time, probably dealing with helping Leilee shovel M&Ms or some other candy in her mouth so she wouldn't holler 'AMEN!' at the end of every prayer (which she does regularly) or digging through my purse to find a pen so that one of the boys could graffiti an offering envelope. So I just put the envelope in my purse and figured I would have a quite coffee moment at home later and flesh out the list with God in the comfort and privacy of my own home. Because I had the nagging feeling that I would be disappointed in myself when I looked at the list.
I also didn't make another one. I just (probably) got all of the kids a piece of gum or asked Leilee if she needed to go potty.
My plan was to write up a post about my list and the reality that did not match the list and then put in some funny reflections about what a heathen I was and how I had spent a good deal of time with God since then repenting and that I had come out smelling something like a daisy or a carnation (not quite rose level but good enough to get by because of the grace of my Father in Heaven) and fooling everyone around me into thinking I had changed an awful lot over the last year and how I was also going to quit writing run-on sentences in 2012. Especially ones as horrific as that one (just behind you).
Here's what really happened.
I never opened the envelope.
I still haven't opened the envelope.
Every time I fish in my purse to find something and accidentally pull out the envelope, my stomach knots a little. I quickly glance around to make sure noone else noticed the obscure white envelope with a neon sign flashing "failure" over the top of it and hastily shove it back in the closest pocket. Since that time, my purse has developed a black hole in one corner and has alternated between spewing things at random or belching loudly after eating whatever it is I was looking for at the moment. I haven't cleaned it out, because that would mean I would come face to face with my list.
The things I don't remember writing on that list are nagging at me. I know I need to face them and admit I didn't really work on anything in 2011, but I haven't been ready. I'm still not really ready. But I have confessed. You just might get the carnation post this month.