The day I turned seventeen weeks old, I made my first confession.
It is nowhere near as terrifying as we converts probably often fear. There is no judgment passed, no scathing words that you would expect to come from God after you screw up. Just healing and forgiveness.
I went to confession with my friend. The priest was late due to an accident at the nursing home he was visiting. We took this to mean that there was a fender bender in front of the nursing home. When Father arrived, he told us he got pooped on and had to change. Way to make my first confession memorable.
Mother Mary said she would go with me, though. And she did. She sat on my left side.
I’m feeling called even more strongly to prayer. I need to get my priorities straight.
I am worried about something at work tomorrow. But worried is a strong word for a baby Catholic who trusts her Daddy. I would admit more readily to being apprehensive and nervous, and hoping for His will in all things. Praying for it.
I took a walk down the road with Jesus earlier. It’s been a long time since we did that. Things have changed. Someone is building a house in the middle of the heaven field. So on the right side of the road, a lot of the trees have been cut down to make way for power lines.
It isn’t the same.
I sang at a funeral mass today. I should blog about that in its entirety. It was something I needed to see.
A week ago, Beep Beep died.
Lots of things are changing. I’m not sure if I like it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t. My world is suddenly changing a whole lot from when I was baptized. I’m scared of it changing more.
And so, in faith and love and trust in God, we march on toward eternity.