One of the most infuriating aspects of existence for me, is to not be apologised to, especially when I was a child.

The injustice of it all still rankles, and to be honest, if I left it, this feeling could easily turn to bitterness and anger. Having seen the emptiness of bitterness, I think I’d rather avoid that thank you very much.

I learned about confession at a young age.

I was at primary school and I had brought a packed lunch with me. There wasn’t much in it compared to some of the other children and I finished it quickly. So quickly that my friend asked me if I’d had anything at all! I said, no, someone had stolen my lunch.

This was a lie.

The word confession for me used to conjure up three things: memories of being a teenager listening to Usher; Katherine Zeta-Jones’ character in a confession booth with Zorro in the 1998 film; and watching murder mysteries where the culprit always comes clean by the final 5 minutes. What the Bible means by confession is something else entirely.

When we confess our sins to others, we will hopefully have some accountability, a bit of the burden will be lifted and we will be supported, it’s good. We also need to confess our sins to God, he will break the chains, forgive us and we can be in His presence, what we were made for.

I remember as a child misbehaving and then hiding from my parents. I knew they knew what I’d done, but I hid in my room and shut the door because I didn’t want to admit to it…even though they already knew.