confessions of a lazy mower, pt. 1

I want to confess:

I'm a lazy mower.

I mow my lawn not nearly as often as I should.  Every year I try and convince myself that "this will be the year" that I keep up with it.  But then spring rolls around, then summer, and then... well... my lawn ends up looking like a hayfield.

There she is to the left - my poor mower, plugged up with about 3 weeks worth of a deadly mixture: 50% dead grass from previous overgrowth, and 50% dead grass from the latest overgrowth.  I bet my mower died about 15 times tonight just because she couldn't spit the grass out fast enough.

And yes, my mower is a "she."  Don't ask me why.

Why do I find myself at this point every summer?  Because of a different deadly mixture: 50% busyness, and 50% neglect.

I'll have a long workday, come home tired of the to-do's, and would rather just check out for a bit.  Ah, the voice of busyness.

Of course, the lawn scolds me from beyond the picture window in the living room.  But, "I'm too tired.  I need some rest.  It's good to spend some time with the family.  I'll get to it tomorrow."  And there's the voice of neglect.

Eventually these two voices will have captured your ear so long that they've got you dreading the day when you know that you'll simply have to stop listening to them and face the consequences - in my case, extending what should be a 45 minute job into a several hour project spanning two, maybe 3 days, involving mowing, trimming, raking, bagging, and most likely a trip to the dump because my yard waste can is already full.

It's hard not to listen to these voices, and even harder not to submit to them.  The minute you've drowned out the one, it seems like the other is in your ear.

I can hear these two voices singing these deceptive duets in a lot of areas of my life.  "You're too busy to be disciplined; cut yourself a break."  "You're so far off track already; what's another day?"

These areas of my life where busyness and neglect are singing over me are also shrouded in a dark haze of my own making.  I try to both hide them and hide from them [shame].  Maybe because I'm not looking forward to that day in which I'll have to deal with them [fear].  Maybe because I'm embarrassed to let others see them [image management].  Maybe because I don't want others to feel obligated to help me out with messes that I know I and I alone created [pride].

Who knew that a lawn could be such a hotbed for all kinds of sin?

But I'm taking a good first step.  And I'm not talking about the hour and a half of mowing/raking that I put in tonight.

I'm confessing.

Confession brings light to the darkness.  It brings into the light the areas of your life that you'd rather just let remain in your secret thoughts and your secret (weak? unanswered? half-hearted?) prayers.

Confession forces you to conclude the same thing about yourself that God's Law has already concluded about you.

Confession closes the gap between what you're telling yourself about your life and how you're actually living it.

Confession helps you to forsake the path that you had been previously stumbling down.

Confession reorients you towards the Light.

Confession reminds you that you are broken, but that your brokenness no longer has the right to rule you.

Confession before Christ and a trusted friend helps you to find and embrace forgiveness.

Confession lightens the load.

Part 2 to follow:

How do you react when someone you know decides to confess?