Confession

Confession has never been something I look forward to. Even thought the number of times I have confessed can be counted on one hand. Hmmm. Well, definitely not more than six times, that's for sure.

The times I have gone I have felt a tremendous weight lifted off me. I feel internal calm and free. Free of my own personal judgement. No, I am not a bible-thumping Catholic. That is not my thing.

All I know is that the alternate methods I have attempted to use to find peace have not worked. Catholicism works for me. Often times I am plagued by doubt and questions, but faith is not an easy thing to come by. Buddhism also speaks to me in a way. I'm searching.

This is the last week of Lent. Confession was today. I paced outside the church. Asking myself if I really wanted to confess. I felt sick. Hands shaking. (You'd think I had killed someone. FYI: I haven't.) It needed to be an honest act, not a forced one. It's humbling. And yes, I did participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Forgiveness was one of my reflection items for this Lenten season. I've made some headway. Tonight I sent out two emails offering apologies. Those apologies would not have been sent out if I had not forgiven myself and those who trespassed against me. I'm not done yet, but it's my start.

Peace. It's a wonderful feeling.