So it was around two months ago that I changed the blog's title and switched it to private. I changed the theme to confessions because quite frankly I have a lot to confess. But this morning I listened to a sermon about freedom, not just political freedom, but also the kind of freedom from sin and from rules. I just took a couple minutes to give thanks for everyone who had enabled my freedom. I of course had to start with the military personnel, given that I live in a nation where I can be free to worship God, write music, hang out with friends, etc. But I also gave thanks to all the wonderful people that have helped me on my march, including all the guys in my men's group (which ended just this last week... sadface), family, and friends and strangers in all the communities with whom I commune.
Freedom has lately become a big word for me, so big that at times I almost don't want to hear it (embarrassed at it, maybe?). But it's not just the physical aspect. I mean, I'm free to go to Vineyard on Sundays, and to go to Rubicon during the week, and to go home at night and go other places at various times... but a friend of mine with whom I've talked about this told me that I was still in a prison of some sort. I would say that this friend was right: I used to isolate and hole myself up so much in previous years to the point that I'm still surprised it didn't kill me. Thanks to the growing God has enabled me to do since I moved back to Chicago, I am much more free than I used to be. But along with this series of risk-taking, there has been immense spiritual warfare, thus driving home the point that freedom still is not free.
This spring I've been taking huge risks in two areas (although one of them doesn't feel so huge): 1.) learning and spilling the true original pain(s) in my life (and not what I'd been deceived into thinking it was) with several friends, including those in my men's group; 2.) learning how to be better friends with females. With one of these areas, I've been springing way forward, far ahead of where I thought I would be; the other, well, it's still very much a work in progress. But last week I received encouragement from multiple sources in that God was pleased with me in the work that has been done. I wish I could have cried. That's the kind of stuff that will make most people on this earth cry. I'm one of the unfortunate few exceptions.
But the reflections from the strides I've taken this spring and the sermon I heard this morning both combined to make me think of my life since I visited California last year. When I returned to Chicago in September I knew there would be a war. I didn't know how big or how long or where it would go, but I knew it was time to dig in. It was a war against sin (which I knew right off the bat), but also war against the legalistic, "by-the-rules" mindset (that one surprised me). I wanted the former gone so bad that I dragged myself into the latter, which resulted in me being angry for months. There were a few areas in my life I wanted nothing to do with, involving setting up defense-mechanism-based mindsets, shutting off from certain periods in my life, as well as alienating a few friends. Thankfully, the separation from some of these friends was not permanent, and some of them have been very helpful to me in this -- what's the word I used earlier? -- right, march; this march to freedom this last year. So thank you to Nate, Jason, Dan, Audrey, Toya, Mike, Eric, Jim, Michelle, Thelma, David, and many others that are not immediately coming to me off the top of my head. You don't know how much you've blessed me in this time. Or maybe you do... ;-)
The other thing I wanted to talk about was the whole confessing thing, y'know, since I changed the blog title to be this. Part of this "freedom" thing is to be able to confess anything that's on my mind to anyone I trust, and I'm not there yet. I still have friends with whom I want and need to share some things, and because of one reason or another I haven't yet. This has been one main story in my life, not feeling free to share (often a lie), and I hate it. It's one reason I started blogging, period, and more to the point, why I changed the blog's title from "amid the noise and haste 2" to "confession by a [insert identity here]." I'd seen my posts from last year (2010) and realized that I'd been confessing a lot of stuff, including things that may have been better off not being on the internet. But this space is kind of a shortcut for me to be able to share crap if for whatever reason I didn't feel free to share it with the right people. I have had friends that I've treated unfairly over the years for no reason, and I still want and need to apologize to them (Chris and Erik come to mind). There are others that I knew when I was younger that I no longer am in contact with, and I often feel I still need to confess it, if for no other reason than to not hide it anymore. I still want to go to Cincinnati for a day to do something specific (I won't share on here; ask me in conversation if you must).
Maybe that's it: confessing sets me free. Of course, it is always best just to trust in the Holy Spirit to give me my freedom to choose, change, and care, but sometimes confessing is part of the package. At this point in my life, I feel that it is the case.
Happy blessed fourth. I pray each and every one of you take the time to remember who has blessed you and given your freedom.