Confess. That word can be so bad and ugly. Confess to the crime you have committed. Confess to something you have done wrong to hurt someone else. Or, you could flip it on it’s head and put a more positive spin on it. Perhaps, out of the kindness of your heart, you have done something for someone and you didn’t want them to know about it. But, they find out anyway, and ask you, “Did you have anything to do with this?” and you smile and say, “Yes, I confess I did it.” The two of you exchange a smile. A warm fuzzie fills your stomach and chest. All is well with the world. Wouldn’t it be nice if all confessions were that way? From places of warmth, and kindness. The unselfishness, of doing things for other people without wanting praise from others.
Some of my personal confessions:
I confess that I have a serious obsession with books. Books with pretty covers even if the story is awful. Books by my favorite authors, books that are old (mostly so I can stick my nose in them and sniff, because I love the smell.), and books that are new.
I confess that I am a glass half full kind of person. I look at the negative side of situations before I find the positive. (Still working on this one.)
I confess that I love anything chocolate. Need I say more?
I confess, that I could be a little, but only a little less temper mental since I have quite the temper, and it gets the better of me a lot of the time. (Still working on this one too.)
Just to name a few…..