A Confession

Last week I learned about Thomas DeQuincy's "Confessions of an English Opium Eater" in one of my classes. One of my assignments was to rename his essay. I decided it wasn't much of a confession--no contrition, no regret in his account of the things he had done. The following comes with a contrite spirit and a little bit of a defense of myself. I know I'm accountable for my actions, but hope that the whys might bring a little understanding. Regardless, the Lord's patience and forgiveness cover me and I can rejoice in that because I am free.

For the past year, I've visited a place called The INN on a weekly basis. I had a crazy hard year all the while, felt pretty insecure about coming into a new community as a former Bible College student and really wanting to be respected and able to make use of my talents and giftings. The desire to be used and the insecurity along with the fact that I could do very little about the chaos I experienced every time I walked though the door of my apartment put me in a peculiar place. The Lord told me to confront someone at the INN, I did and didn't stop there. I took my concern for the INN and brought it to a whole new level of criticism--the kind that doesn't please the Lord--non-constructive, judgemental prayer and talk with others. I dragged the name of this precious ministry through the mud for the sake of feeling like I had a degree of control over my life because I wasn't strong enough to constantly battle the wars in my apartment.

I was freed of my apartment and the situation I had created at the INN when I moved to Alaska for the summer to work. I became stronger. I saw the beauty of the Lord. I had a lot of time to be and not do. I came to myself. Then, I came back.

I walked in the door of the INN three weeks ago, standing tall, confident and ready to love that ministry. I'm having a Bible study on the side, pursuing a place on the Student Support Team, signing up for Fall Retreat, thinking about helping with the monthly worship night and looking for ways to lift her up, belong.

I'm a little older than a lot of the students--six years older than the Freshmen, but still feel this is where I belong. Why? For my own maturity? For the connections with others? For the INN itself? I don't know how much they will let me give, but I'll stand where the Lord lets me and do what he has asked of me.

And now, may the Father of all creation bring you into a maturity and greater intimacy with Christ as you go through your struggles in this life.




Update: At the retreat I mentioned before, the Lord told me it was time to go. When I wrote this, I was excited about The INN. I think the Lord knew I needed to be excited about it before I could leave and leave well. I'm in another good place now.