There are many definitions for “confession,” but the most prevailing one, at least in my mind, is that of telling God about my sins with a repentant spirit. It’s the part of prayer that I don’t exactly rush to get to, and sometimes I feel shame knowing what I have to confess. However, I think this might be the most important part of prayer, not because God just can’t wait to condemn us for our sins (nope! Romans 8:1), but because it really opens up our hearts to receive. Receive what? Grace, mercy, forgiveness, gifts, love… the list goes on and on.
For me, worship is the place where God breaks down my stubbornness and I’m able to confess and therefore really take hold of what He has for that particular moment. There’s something about lyrics to songs, or verses in hymns, or even a certain chord progression that cuts to my core.
And that’s how God made me to operate, and it’s beautiful. From a very young age I had an affinity for music. My mom tells me that at eight months I could rock to the beat (I think this could be an exaggeration…). At 7 I started taking piano lessons. I grew to be a pretty good pianist, picking up organ, guitar, and clarinet along the way.
At the center, I always prefer acoustic piano, guitar, or cello to anything else. And simple, biblically and theologically sound words. It gets to me every time. I’m encouraged every time. The wall around my heart falls every time, and I let Him in, my confessions falling at His feet.
Scripture readings for the week:
mercies per mile 