I woke up to slightly snow covered streets and driveway this morning. This threw me off, totally, b/c I began to make sausages, bacon, eggs and English muffins (my hubby's favorite and I love to spoil him w/good food!) and had a great big breakfast with the family. It was wonderful till I glanced at the clock.
This cooking extravaganza, in turn, threw off my weekly scheduled outing to food shop. This great money saving store opens at 7am and I am there at approximately 7:15am every Saturday morning for the past few weeks.
Not today. I did not arrive till about 7:45am, which meant I HAD to get a whole week long food shopping list checked off and checked off fast, if I wanted to get to 9am Mass. This was my goal, but it did not happen. So, my back up plan was to get to the 12:10 Mass and get to confession before hand.
(Why am I telling you all this? You'll see...)
By the time I got to the Church to get to confession, I had to wait a few minutes. Those lines for confession are so awesome and so annoying at the same time!!! Awesome that there is a LINE for confession and annoying that I have to wait. I waited and as I did... I thought about this particular Church that I do not go to regularly... "They are great-they don't see you at all-they don't know you-they are quick-and boom!~ Confession is done!" (BTW... this was thought with all great love for the Sacraments!)
But we all know it sure makes us feel better if the confessor does not necessarily know us and besides, being it quick gives more time for other things.
What I am trying to say is that God really put me in my place.
I was trying to downsize this great Sacrament of Confession.
I was making light of the merciful power of Confession.
And was I in for a surprise!
This priest stopped me in my tracks at the 3rd sentence I said. He started asking me questions. Lots of questions that are deep. He talked to me as though he truly knew what I needed to hear.
(BTW, I still do not know who this priest is...but I will pray for him in thanksgiving.)
Truth be told...Between my sniffles and tears running down my cheeks, I needed to be spoken to like that. Harshly. Straight forward. Bold. No if's, and's or but's.
The good Lord knew my intentions for confession were not right on and HE let me know.
In fact, it was the most difficult penance I have ever gotten. (Even at that, it was not that bad at all but comparing it to what it could have been, but it was by far, tops.) It was a good thing Mass was following that confession.
How dare I, this lowly little housewife and mother, take for granted Forgiveness. Mercy. Love. And for that I am truly sorry. And I do think that HE knows how sorry I am.