Confession - Ugh

I do not like the word confession. It ranks right up there with the word sin. It is so us and so bad and so black and so evil.

Confessions are tear-laden sobs of misdeeds and conduct. Penitent hearts crossed, that ne'er will evil thought or action cross this feeble mind. But are they?

Where is it written confession is always of a negative origin. There are ardent confessions of love. There is confession of a secret, luscious, life-changing secret. These are not bad. Why, on the contrary, they are extremely good.

So if confession is part of my relationship with my Father, and I accept that fact, why do I limit it to this litany of do's and don't's. The monolithic drone of sins of ommission and commission. The hangman's gallows I build stick by stick by my guilt. Or as adding tender to the righteous fire of His anger.

What if confession is none other than the murmuring between best friends. The whisper of hope and anticipation for things too good to be true. The tearful sorrow at a friend lost for a time or forever. The hesitant, heart-felt confession of wrong done and wrong to be forgiven. The things truly soul friends can hear and say without one smidgen of fear that they will not be accepted, even enfolded for their utterance.

I like that better