Another New Beginning

About three and a half years ago, I started this blog as part of my journey into what I called "the real world." Little did I know how long it would take me to get there.

As I look back on the early posts here, I can't help feeling like it was a different person who wrote them.  I guess really it was.  I can hardly believe all that God has led me through in this past season, and the changes in my life have been both internal and external.  My soul and my situation are both so different now.

Not to say there weren't some really good things going on at the time I started all this, but as I look back I see a kid with some big talk and not much substance to back it up with.  In this season, God is calling me into manhood.  Into hard work.  Into courage.  (Things about which college graduate me had so very much to learn!)

God has also been providing me with new opportunities to share my thoughts.  It's become apparent to me that if I don't have any place to express what God is teaching me, I don't know what to do with myself.  That's part of why I started this, really.  I had all these ideas and no forum in which to teach them, and I was pretty much boiling over.  Now I lead a small group and a worship team, and God has finally given me chances to teach in church again after a long break.  I couldn't ask for more opportunity!

Another thing about the time when I started writing on here was just that: the time.  I had all kinds of it.  Much more than I knew what to do with, in fact, and I wasn't really using it well to be honest.  Sadly, those blog posts are one of the only truly productive things I was doing in a large part of that season.  Now I have a full-time job in addition to all the teaching opportunities I was just talking about.  I certainly don't need to try to find ways to pass the time!

Of course, much more could be written about how I'm in a different place now than I was then.  However, another thing God has been teaching me to leave behind is my compulsive desire to say everything I think needs to be said all at once.  With that in mind, here are just two of many things I think are important moving forward from here.

First, God owns everything.  There's already an appalling number of I's in this post and this blog, and there will be a few more before I get done here.  But he owns everything, and the more I realize that, the more I enjoy life.  He just isn't that concerned about my agenda.  I hold on to my freedom and time in self-employment, and he tells me to get a job.  I pray about a girl, and he tells me... to get a job.  Seriously, he knows what to do, and my time and effort belong to him, not me.  If I'll let him use those things as he sees fit, I believe with everything I am that I'll experience the blessing I've tried (and failed) so long to produce on my own.  Not that it's some magic formula-- it's just that where the Spirit of the Lord is there's freedom.  That's the ultimate blessing.

That brings me to my other point.  I've noticed that my life goes better when it's lived with a healthy dose of just not caring so much.  Now, I don't mean to say that life and doing the right thing aren't important.  What I mean is that a great deal of what I've cared about has been misplaced.  I've cared so much about my own safety and what other people think of me, and that has never produced anything but death.  I just don't have the energy to keep caring about that stuff, and I become the person I really am more and more as I let it go.  I end up accidentally walking into the freedom I thought I could find myself but couldn't!  I have life less figured out than I ever thought, and I can only hope that blessing continues.  Figuring everything else out is someone else's job anyway, and guess what? He's already finished it.

These days, I care more than ever what God thinks about me and less about what everyone else does.  The nice thing about that is that what he thinks doesn't change like people's opinions do.  I don't have to manage it.  Nor can I: no matter what I do, God is only looking at me with love and planning me a future filled with hope.  100% love, all the time-- Even when that means he has to discipline me to get something stupid to stop.  It never changes his opinion on me: beloved son, covered by the blood of the beloved Son.

So, that real world thing I was talking about?  I didn't mean getting a grown-up job (although I did do that).  I mean seeing that this is my Father's world, and no matter what happens I have him.  His question to me in this season is the same as to the disciples in the sinking boat in the storm: why are you so afraid?  And as I realize that he will always be there, I start to fear less.  With him there, it will always be ok... and even if it isn't, I still get to go be with him in heaven at the end.

Still, eternal life starts now.  That life is the light of the world, the streetlights' call.  What is eternal life?  That I may know the only true God and Jesus who he sent. I can do that now.  I can let his light shine through me more and more-- another new beginning, every day, every moment, every prayer.

Want to try it?  Want to see what happens?  Well, you won't read about it here.

Come live it with me.

Sports and Worship

Today I'm going to address two subjects. One has been a big part of my life for a long time, but interestingly not a very big part of this blog.  The other has been an even bigger part of my life but not for quite as long, and therefore has been a huge part of this blog since its beginning.  Now, had I come up with a more creative title for this post I could make a dramatic revelation of what these two mystery topics are at this point... but instead I'll just refer you to the top of the post.  They're even in the right order!  How convenient.

To begin with, I want to subdivide the sports category into two parts: being a sports fan (i.e. watching/following sports), and being an athlete (i.e. playing sports).  I'll take on the subject of fandom first.  I got thinking about this because I had the opportunity to go see an Indians game with a collection of very cool people yesterday.  It was a wonderful time (and the home team actually won, a rarity for games I've been to recently) and I feel very thankful to God to have been part of it.

I'm a worship leader at my church (don't worry, this is relevant to the previous paragraph, just hang on), and God has been challenging me to lead a life of worship, not just when I'm on stage or playing my guitar but all the time.  I was struck again at the baseball game how much seeing a live sporting event is like going to a worship service.  I mean, there's singing, clapping, listening, watching... even prayer sometimes.  All the elements are there-- the question in my mind is just: what is being worshiped?

I'm still not sure what I think about this.  I do know I used to be one of the biggest sports fans of anyone I know. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that I followed all the major sports religiously, and I'd go so far as to say that sports were an idol for me.  Even as God has been helping me put things back in the right order, though, I've been wondering what the proper place of sports is.  I think it's easy to use sports as an escape from the real struggles of the real world-- that's what I was doing before.  Part of me wants to say I should just throw it all the way out of my life if it could cause me to sin, but I don't think that kind of legalism is what relationship with God is all about.  Plus, even after God has broken my idol, I still really enjoy watching sports! So what do I make of that?

My current take on it is that I just need to stay in the real world.  I'm not sure I can explain what that means, but I know when I've left reality to live in a false world, whether of sports, video games, or whatever.  I also know that I didn't feel like that after the game yesterday.  I felt like the game was secondary to the fact that we were able to build community, at least for me.  I think it's a good sign that I had at least two conversations that were more interesting to me than the game.  In fact, the game can even help keep things from getting awkward or uncomfortable by removing the pressure to talk about something all the time.  If you pay attention, though, you can have meaningful and important conversations in and around the action in a totally natural way.  Baseball works especially well for this since there are significant stretches where literally nothing happens, but it applies to all sports I think.

See, even for people like me who are pretty serious and intense, it's impossible to have "important" conversation all the time.  I don't think human beings can support it... and I'm coming to realize it wouldn't even be healthy to do so!  We have to prove ourselves to our friends by being present and real in the little things before we have any credibility on the big things.  And sports, it turns out, are just about the easiest and most enjoyable common ground point I can think for making an initial connection with someone.  So if I can stay in the real world (that God rules) and not lose track of what's really important (living a life that honors Him and recognizes his presence), I can not only enjoy a fun game but also honor God by building relational equity and new friendships (and then by thanking him for all of it!).  If I lose track of reality, sports can swallow my life.  Simple as that.

I think the same thing applies to playing sports as well.  I've always loved running around like a crazy person chasing a ball or frisbee or really anything else sports-related-- never met a sport I didn't like.  It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't have it, but there's this innocent joy in just testing what I can do and enjoying what I'm physically capable of.  I never really understood how that related to worship until recently.  I just read, though, about how all of creation worships God its maker.  Let me quote Psalm 19: 1-5--

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course."

How do the heavens have a voice?  How can the sun praise God?  These are inanimate objects we're talking about, remember.  I think they worship God because they do exactly what he designed them to do.  That's why all of creation worships God; we're the only part of it that sometimes chooses not to.  But God's design for us is multifaceted for sure.  Yes, we're designed to worship and praise and love, but God also gave me athletic ability and joy in using it.  Can't I worship him by using that gift with a joyful and thankful heart, following in his design?  If you thinking I'm reaching in making that analogy... well, David made the same one in verse five above!  No, not the bridegroom... that's a whole different kind of worship! I'm talking about the champion. Now, I'm not always a champion by any stretch of the imagination, but I know that feeling of rejoicing to run the course.  I praise God for it.

And that's how sports have become part of my relationship with God.  As we keep the focus on him, all his blessings come into proper focus for us.  The question isn't about making a rule of what's right or how much sports is ok, but about learning to walk with the Lord and submitting to his design, staying present in the reality where he reigns and where he deserves more praise than any sports team.  He loves us and has given us so much, but we can only appreciate the gifts fully when they point to the great giver.  Just like at the end of that same Psalm, what matters is this:

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer."

Poetry and Life

Did you know that April is National Poetry Month?  Somehow I didn't until this year, but I spend so much time in libraries now that it's hard not to pick up on these things.  I suppose it makes sense-- the first important poem in (semi-) readable English begins with a reference to April, which was also later called the "cruellest month" by T.S. Eliot in the first line of possibly the most famous (and most overrated) poem of our time.  Anyway, in honor of all that, I'm going to NOT post another one of my poems (and split my infinitives with pride-- poets can do that!).  What I am going to post is a list of good poems by much better poets than myself for you to check out if you're interested.  All of these poems should be easy to find online if you don't want to spend your time hanging out in a library like I do.  As a side note though, I do find that reading a poem out of an actual book seems to be more enjoyable than reading off a screen-- don't know why that is exactly, but try it and you'll see!

Starting at the beginning, I want to talk about a longer poem that I referenced in my last post but I feel is too big to include in a list.  Possibly the best free verse poetry I've ever read is found in The Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot.  Yes, The Waste Land is more famous, but the The Four Quartets is better-- and much more encouraging.  Trust me.  I can't recommend it highly enough; it takes a little bit of effort but it's well worth it.  So start there if you can, but if all you have time for is shorter stuff, here is a brief list of some inspiring shorter poems that should make a great jumping-off point into the wide world of poetry (and if you want a much longer list just let me know and I can easily furnish that as well)!

John Donne-- Holy Sonnet 14 (Batter my heart...)
George Herbert-- Redemption
Andrew Marvell-- The Coronet
William Wordsworth-- Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
Percy Shelley-- Ozymandias
John Keats-- Ode to a Nightingale
Emily Dickinson-- "Hope is the thing with feathers"
Gerard Manley Hopkins-- "As Kingfishers catch fire"
Robert Frost-- The Road Not Taken
                    -- Two Tramps in Mud Time
Richard Wilbur-- Hamlen Brook
Mark Strand-- Keeping Things Whole


So there you go.  A closing thought: our modern way of life tends to cause us to miss the beautiful in the midst of the mundane.  I think one of the (many) reasons poetry has such value is that it is intrinsically an appreciation of the beauty God has embedded all over the place in this world.  Reading (and writing) poetry helps me remember to look for the beauty of the world... and then I just start seeing it.  To appreciate the beauty that God has made is a way to worship him, and that's why we're here, no?  Also, we are God's poetry (see Ephesians 2:10-- "workmanship" in that verse is the Greek poiema which is the word we get poem from), so we were made to experience the creative and specific design of beauty because it's who we are!   So enjoy the rest of National Poetry Month... and don't stop there.

Trying

I'd like to begin today with an extremely random quote: "Do or do not; there is no try"  --Yoda.  Our favorite green jedi munchkin utters this line while trying to get Luke Skywalker to use the force strongly enough to lift his X-wing out of the swamp that inexplicably exists on (in?) the asteroid where Yoda lives.  At least I think that's how it goes; I haven't seen the old Star Wars movies in quite a while.

Anyway, that particular line has always been one I've loved to quote, partially because Yoda is one of the only voice impressions I can do with any level of proficiency whatsoever and partly because it just seems applicable in many situations.  You have to watch out for Yoda, though.  As the main philosopher of the Star Wars series (along with Obi-wan, I guess), he's always saying things that are obviously meant to be profound costumed in a mystifying array of vague spirituality, ambiguity, and reversed syntax.  When you look closer, though, his statements usually fall somewhere on the spectrum between pure nonsense and outright falsehood.

This one is a prime example.  Now, I think it's true that people tend to use the phrase, "I'll try" to indicate that no one should expect them to succeed, either because they aren't up to the task or because they don't actually plan to expend that much effort on it.  So in that sense, Yoda's instruction could be legitimate.  A jedi saying they'd try would be a cop-out of that order, since the force should enable them to do basically whatever they want (an interesting issue never really addressed in the films, by the way-- why can't they fly? why can't they all shoot lightning out of their hands? If Vader can choke people with his mind, why does he even bother with a lightsaber? But I digress.)  Here in the real world, though, there is no force.  Here, we have God.

The most powerful force in the universe is not a formless power that can be used to good or evil ends.  Far from it, He's a person (three of them, actually) with a very specific will for how things are going to go in his world.  His sovereign will puts us in the position where we clearly do not have control over our own success or failure.

I'm not trying to get into the whole free will vs. sovereignty argument here.  I think it's self evident, though, that our best-laid plans tend to "gang aft a-gley" as Robert Burns said (rough translation: they go straight to crap a lot of the time).  A much more intelligible quote from another poet sums it up quite nicely, I think: "For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business."  --T.S. Eliot.  Now, Mr. Eliot wrote some really depressing poetry (and some very snobbish literary criticism) early in his career, but then an amazing thing happened: he met Jesus.  The quote above is from after that happened, in the midst of his crowning accomplishment, a very long poetic meditation on the value of life (and other things) called The Four Quartets, which I highly recommend.

I think T.S. Eliot was wiser than Yoda.  I also think that the preceding is a sentence that has never before been written in the history of literature.  I'm ok with that.  All I know is that the Bible is filled with verses backing up the idea that we have very little control of the "do or do not" part of life.  For us, there is only try!

"Who can speak and have it happen if the Lord has not decreed it?  Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both calamities and good things come?"  Lamentations 3:37-38

"Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain."  Psalm 127:1

"Lord, you establish peace for us; all that we have accomplished, you have done for us" Isaiah 26:12

Far from being depressing, this is freedom.  If our success or failure as men or women-- as Christians, as people-- depends on our own efforts, we are screwed.  But God takes the pressure off!  He is already doing things; the things that we have accomplished are all things that he did.  Instead of worrying about whether we succeed or fail, we get the privilege of discovering and participating in the plans of God.

"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them"  Ephesians 2:10 (ESV).

I quoted from the ESV here because the NIV makes the verse sound unnecessarily Yoda-ish by inexplicably translating the Greek word for walk as "do" in this verse (and in no other place for whatever reason) and adding another "do" before good works, where there isn't even a verb in the original!  Their carelessness caused me to misunderstand this verse for years, thinking that I had to somehow make God's plans happen.

What if instead, God is already at work in His world?  What if his plans are already in motion, and we can just walk right into them as we pursue relationship with Him?  What if all we have to do is try, and He handles the success and gives us failure when we need it?  What if we can trust that He is strong and He loves us, and the rest is not our business?

Can we really be led by the hand of God, hear his voice, and work alongside Him in his perfect plan?

It's something I'd like to try.

Integrity in Community

I've had a couple conversations recently that really got me thinking again about the issue of how we relate to each other within the body of Christ (i.e. the church). Long story short, I ended up expressing a lot of my thoughts about it in a poem, so I'll start with that:


Euphemistic Eucharist

Howya doin’? What’s up?
Pretty good, not too much,
life goes on, praise the Lord,
the usual and such--

By pretty good I mean
my family’s a mess--
we fight, except not here:
in this house we just bless.

I’m saying in not much
my schedule is insane:
it’s filled with noise and stress
it hardly can contain--

Life just keeps on going,
and so I don’t have time
to let you see beneath
charade and pantomime.

To praise the Lord I smile
and just sing happy songs;
pain stays behind the mask
where it, of course, belongs--

The usual just means
I’d tell you I’m depressed
were I allowed to break
facades so nicely dressed

And such and such and on--
a thousand pointless things
I’d rather say than tell
you anything that stings.

Safe. But are we happy?
We smile; are we alive?
The one place where it seems
reality should thrive,

instead we hide away;
we put our pride above
our pain--how can we throw
our masks aside and love?

Because we need help and we need
to be saved and all of us are
pretty much the same kinds
of messed up so why not just be real?

Can you see here what I’m driving toward?
Maybe then we could really praise the Lord.


So, I realize that my poem is a bit caustic.  I'm just trying to honestly address a real issue, though, and the fact that it keeps on coming up among people I talk to lets me know I'm not the only one who feels it.  The issue, as you can probably guess from the poem, is that church (not just mine, or anyone else's specifically, but church in general-- the conversations I mentioned at the beginning were with people from three different ones) has a tendency to become a place of fakeness where people don't feel like they can come with their real problems, instead of what it should be: the place where they could safely be honest and receive healing.

3 questions come to my mind:  why does this happen, why is it so bad, and what can we do about it?

Let's break my OCD tendencies toward order and symmetry and start right in the middle with the second question.  I don't want to belabor the point that the phenomenon I'm talking about is bad news, but I want to start with what I see as the basic reasons why it is so harmful.

The first is that everyone has problems, and problems don't just go away.  Of course, drawing near to God is helpful in dealing with them.  God can supernaturally solve them whenever he wants to.  The problem comes when churches start teaching (or just believing, consciously or subconsciously), that this supernatural encounter with the healing Lord is only a one-on-one deal.  Now, I know that God has healed me at times without any help from anyone else--he's just that good.  However, the general model that he has laid out for us is something totally different.

"And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven.  Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." (James 5:15-16).  This is God's model for healing.  We get other believers involved, and they pray for us so that we will be healed.  Catch that?  James is letting us know that if we won't share our brokenness, both spiritual and physical, we won't access all the healing that we could because it comes through receiving prayer from each other!  So that's one reason why it's a crisis that we don't feel like we can be real in church-- where else will we find the righteous men who can pray powerful and effective prayers for our healing?


Another reason is that everyone has problems, and everyone knows this is true.  Even (or especially?) people who aren't Christians yet.  We might feel like being real with the stuff of our lives will scare unbelievers away, but I propose that the fakeness we choose instead is infinitely more frightening.  Everyone knows that people have problems.  Everyone knows that they themselves have problems!  So if you walk into a group of people where no one seems to have any, what do you think?  You think, I'll never fit in with these people.  So another reason this fear of dealing with real issues in church is a problem is because it is actually driving away the broken people who desperately need to receive healing by being prayed for (and who God wants to make into the powerful and effective prayers who will then help restore others!).

Finally, and potentially most seriously, being fake in church will hinder our worship.  We might think we can sneak in and deal with our problems alone with God and have ourselves fixed by the time we have to talk to anyone.  The problem there is that God is looking for worshipers who worship him in spirit and in truth (John 4:23).  If we won't be real with God and with our family, we can't worship him in the way he desires.  This is serious stuff, and if you don't think so just read in Exodus and Leviticus about people who tried to worship God in unauthorized ways.  If we want his healing presence to be with us, we have to be willing to worship in the spiritual integrity God is seeking.  Otherwise, our thanksgiving (Greek: Eucharist) will amount to little more than empty words we use to avoid saying what we really mean.

So, why does it happen that we feel like all we can be at church is just fine and peachy-keen, etc.?

I think it probably comes down to fear, mostly.  Just because we all have problems and we know it doesn't mean we necessarily feel comfortable sharing them with people!  If our fear of being judged for the things that are still messed up about us trumps our desire to be healed from those things, we won't share, plain and simple.  If we have a history of being judged, that makes things worse of course, as does seeing other people be judged in places (like church) where they should be welcomed instead.  Put all those things together, and fear wins out a lot of times.

Also, I think there's a misunderstanding in the church of what the Bible really teaches about joy.  When it says to be joyful in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:16), is that the same as being happy all the time?  If the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10), and a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), are we weak Christians who don't have the Holy Spirit if we go through struggles and trials?

All of the answers are no, in case you're wondering.  No one is "too blessed to be stressed" either (although some might be in too much denial not to smile).  Joy is not the same thing as happiness, and godly joy is just as compatible with sorrow as with happiness.  Jesus himself wept (John 11:35), but he was given the oil of joy more than all his companions (Psalm 45:7).  He also got so stressed that he sweated blood (Luke 22:44).  So godly joy must be something different than unceasing happiness.  What if, instead, it's the ongoing security of knowing that eventually everything will work out for your good because it's all in the control of the all-powerful God who loves you?  Then you can feel the pain of loss and brokenness without losing hope, and when you are happy you can be happy for the right reasons.  That's the joy that will bring you strength.

One further note on why the problem of disingenuousness happens at church:  it kind of gets to be a vicious cycle.  No one wants to be the first person to do anything, so if no one is talking about any real stuff, it's that much harder for anyone to break the trend.

Which segues nicely into the last question: what can we do about this thing?

First, let me say that I'm no expert on this.  I'm actually more of an expert on being fake, to be quite honest.  All I know is that I deeply desire to be real, and I'm starting to learn what that means.  So how can we be the ones to step out and start being real in the one place in all the world where the truth should win out?  How can streetlights shine into darkness that has clouded the home of light?

The main thing I can see is that we have to start wanting more of God so desperately that we don't care about our own images.  We have to care more about what he thinks of us than what anyone else does.  This is what it means for him to be our Lord.  His opinion is the final word, and what he says goes, no matter what it makes us look like.  If we start believing that, maybe we can be the ones to step out and take the first risk.  We can't make anyone else be real, but we can show them they won't die if they try it!

Also, we have to confess and repent of our judgmental spirits.  This will allow us to bless other people who are real enough to be honest about their problems instead of comparing our own struggles to theirs to see how we stack up.  All judgment is comparison, and all comparison is irrelevant because God's love is infinite.  What if ours started looking more like his?

We also have to stop getting the truth backwards.  It's not that God is so good that his followers shouldn't have any problems; He's so good because welcomes us in spite of them!  He fixes them too, but for whatever reason he hasn't chosen to do it instantaneously in most cases.  We have to let him be who he is in this instead of making him into a false image of what we want him to be.

I'm sure there is much more to be said on this topic-- does anyone else have any ideas to share on how we can help?  I'll end with one I just thought of, which is actually the most important one: prayer.  I want to start asking God to change the problems I see instead of just worrying about them.  I want to talk less and pray more.

So-- God, change what you want to change.  Make us more like you.  Make your body whole.  Let us walk in integrity, bravery, and community.  Give us real relationships with real people, and let us worship you in Spirit and in truth.  Amen.

Confession and Repentance

So, I know in the past I've said in my introductory paragraph that a blog entry would be short... and it's turned into a total lie.  However, this one really is a quick one (by my standards at least).  I think its importance actually comes in part from the fact that it's so simple.

Basically, God showed me this past week that I haven't really been understanding the process of confession and repentance.

I tend to fall into what Timothy Keller (in his book The Prodigal God, which is an excellent book that also derives some of its effectiveness from being short) would call the "elder brother" category.  Now, I'm an only child, but this refers to the story (Luke 15:11-32) of the lost son(s), in which the older brother is angry when the "prodigal" son is allowed to return.  He had been slaving away sedulously (vocab word for the week) all those years, and the rebellious younger son was welcomed back despite being profligate and wicked.

I don't think I begrudge people their welcome back to God, but the point of the "elder brother" idea is that dedicated people often use (or attempt to use) their morality as leverage on God.  I've been slaving away, so you have to do ____ for me, etc.  Now, when these slavers (like me) actually do mess up, they try to earn their forgiveness the same way.

Ever spend a lot of time beating yourself up for your failures?  I know I have.  I thought that was just part of the deal, like a specific amount of self-flagellation would be necessary as proof of being properly sorry so God could forgive you.  The "bigger" the sin, the more beating up of self needed, right? Interestingly, this is also the younger son in the story's plan, but the father cuts him off in midstream when he tries to execute it.

That's what happened to me too.  I (gasp!) sinned this month, and I was starting to grovel about it when God challenged me to put my silly English major brain to work and remember what some words actually mean: confession, and repentance.

Confession essentially just means stating what you believe to be true.  We confess Christ, for example, when we say we believe he is the Savior.  It's just telling it like it is. 

Repentance, in the literal sense, means turning away from something.  It's not the same thing as being sorry at all... it's more like facing in a different direction.

Confessing sin, then, is just telling God what happened. 

Repenting of sin is the part where you stop thinking about it.

Is that shocking? It is to me!  Something in me doesn't even want to accept that it could be that easy, but the fact remains that Jesus already dealt with our sin on the cross, and God continues to be the good father who cuts us off in the middle of our beating ourselves up.

It's so practical and efficient that it has to be God's design.  We get to just tell God, "I sinned, and this is how."  He is already fully aware of how bad it was, so no editorializing or grovelling on our part is necessary.  Then we're allowed to just leave it behind, trusting that confessing is all we need to do to be forgiven (1 John 1:9). 

By the way, not thinking about sin is just like not thinking about a pink elephant (which you just did, of course).  In order to do it, you have to think about something else, not focus on what you're trying not to think of.  If we try merely to turn away from sin, we have to keep checking to make sure it's still behind us. If you just try not to think about sin, not only are you still thinking about it but you also are much more likely to do it again! We become what we look at, I think.  That's why I recommend instead thinking about Jesus dying on the cross, or the fact that no matter what happens, I'm God's son.  Don't turn away from sin, turn toward Him.  Looking that way moves me to awe and worship instead of gloom and self-focus.  I think that's the only way to do it.

"One thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14).

What a privilege!