Tag Archives: confession

How to Confess Your Sin

Feeling bad about something you’ve done? That’s a good start. It’s not enough to gain forgiveness, make it right, or change the behavior, but it’s a good starting point. This little explanation below might help you to understand how to confess a sin and get victory over it (in other words, stop doing it again and again!).
The whole thing begins when you do something bad (i.e. selfish, unkind, harmful, cruel, debilitating, disrespectful, addictive, etc.). God’s standard is holiness, so pretty much that dumps most of our behavior in the unholy category. Event most of the nice things we do, we do with ulterior motive–being nice to others helps our lives function better. But after we do something wrong, the need for confession begins–

1. You feel guilty. The question to ask yourself is–how does this behavior line up with God’s standard? Then you know if the guilt is from God or you mother. (Sometimes they agree on the standard.) If God says it’s wrong, it’s wrong, no matter what the government or your friends think or what great reason you can give for its occurrence.
2. You apologize for the behavior, to the person you hurt and to God. This is confession. You must call it what God calls it so you consider it in all its nastiness. Without looking at the depravity of your choices, you won’t want to change them; you will only hope to change the ramifications of your choices. Don’t make excuses about how you didn’t mean it or how you reacted to their actions out of habit. You sinned. If you don’t own it, you will continue to do it. And it will own you.
3. You ask for forgiveness. This is a crucial step for you and for the offended party. It frees you both to continue the relationship. Without forgiveness, bitterness and resentment build up, and they will destroy you.
4. You ask how you can make it right and make it right. This is called restitution. Correct the gossip, return the money,  give up whatever is needed. Restitution hurts. Because it hurts, it’s a great preventative for repeating the behavior.
5. Replace the behavior with the opposite behavior. This is called repentance, a turning away from and moving in the opposite direction. In Eph. 4:25, the Apostle Paul says to “put off lying and speak truth.” Whatever you’re doing wrong, stop doing it and start doing the opposite. If you don’t replace it, you will slip back into it.

Victory! Yes, confession and repentance is a process, but it’s a process that leads to victory. Don’t take any shortcuts to repentance just to assuage your guilt. Do the work. You will reap the rewards of peace and victory in your life. You will change.

1 Jn. 1:9–“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

RE-POSTED FROM http://www.7prayersthatwork.com/2015/09/how-to-confess-your-sin.html

Confessions of a suburb mom

I am not a philanthropist, not a CEO, not a socialite. I’m just a suburb mom, and I have some confessions to make. Frankly, I’m a little tired of the pressure put on our families to succeed and surpass. At what, I don’t know. Our city? The world at large? Whatever this lofty goal is, it’s exhausting. And it’s cramping my style. I have a few bones to pick with suburban culture.IMG_3330

1. I don’t think I should feel embarrassed to walk to the bus stop in my pajamas. We all wear them. And our kids go to school early. None of us moms wake up with make-up on and hair done. Just because I’m not magazine-ready at 7 am, that doesn’t mean I won’t be doing anything today. I don’t even have elementary kids anymore, but this still bothers me. Pajama moms, I salute you! My embarrassment has subsided now because I usually drive my kids to school and no one can see my pajama pants or bed hair from outside the car. I will shower, I promise. I just don’t think I need to impress the other moms who are on their way to work already.

I work. Just later. And sometimes in my pajamas.

2. Swim team is not an essential element to summer. There, I said it. My kids play sports all year, so we like to take the summer off. No competitions, no practices, no schedules. Except for swimming lessons when they were little, of course, because it would be a crime if my kids couldn’t swim. I just wish I didn’t feel the need to explain it. Obviously, the pressure is still getting to me because here I am putting it in a blog. My kids didn’t do swim team. Yet another great American tragedy. They didn’t do cotillion, either. Gasp!

3. I like to do my own housework. I do. It’s a confession because the truly successful suburb moms hire out all their housework. Lawn guy, handyman, dry cleaning, maid service, day care, spa, hair salon, dog groomer, pool guy, nanny, take-out. But not me. I iron. I cook. I dust. I weed. Don’t get me wrong–sometimes I resent it. But mostly, I just resent feeling feeling provincial because I do it. I actually like laundry. You wash it, dry it, fold it, ta-da! Something got accomplished today. Something that can’t be compared to someone else, that will never be discussed because it’s too insignificant. 

4. I’m a soccer mom, but I’m not a soccer mom.  (You know the difference if your kid plays soccer!) I don’t like soccer moms and dads. They are birthed sometime after their kids stop chasing butterflies on the field and before their children actually become skilled. Soccer parents’ behavior gets incrementally worse until their little soccer stars become older teenagers and threaten them into silence. But until that time, moms and dads are screaming at refs and calling fouls they don’t understand. And their kids are learning that life should always treat them fairly and that performing is critical in their relationship to their parents. Hence, the next thing I have to confess.

5. I am so over the competitive spirit of the suburbs. It’s akin to Olympic fever. It amasses intense training, strategy, and celebration, all with a sense of family patriotism and urgency to win now because we might not get another chance. Kids are placed on course to achieve, plain and simple. The future seems to hang in the balance over every event–school, music, sports, manners. Parents pick the kind of college they want their kids to attend, and they plan backwards, all the way into preschool. Every kid must have a sport, an art, a premiere education, a social life, a religious foundation, and a host of extra-curriculars like Boy Scouts, community service, and foreign travel. It’s all good stuff. I’m not arguing that. But unlike the rest of the world, we believe that all of it is essential. And to provide such illustrious opportunities, both father and mother must work themselves to death.

Solution?

No idea, other than move to a farm and try non-schooling. But that would really stress me out. And I draw the line at growing my own food. That’s at least one reason I am a suburb mom.