Confession

I went to my first confession in six years today. The first thing I said was, "Father forgive me, for I have sinned. I enjoy German Nutella more than Italian Nutella..."

Juuuust kidding. I didn't say that. However, I am enjoying a pre-dinner snack of pretzels and German Nutella and it is quite delicious...

Anyway, I did really go to confession today for the first time in six years, and I would like to share some of it with you. Not everything ... :) but some of it.

So, this afternoon my group and I climbed Apparition Hill (another post to come later about that), and afterwards we got a drink and then went our separate ways. I went to church to participate in the sacrament of Reconciliation.

I mentioned this in one of my posts yesterday, but I haven't had the greatest experience with Confession. I've gone three times in my life (before today).

First experience: I honestly can't remember. It was part of Sunday school and I have no idea what I might have confessed.
Second experience: I was forced to go to confession as part of my punishment from my parents for shoplifting. I told the police and my parents that the time I got caught was the first time I had ever done it. That was a lie. I've admitted the lie to my parents since, but at the time I was too afraid to tell them the truth because they kept telling me that they would be worried if it wasn't my first time because people can get addicted to shoplifting. I knew that I would never do it again (the image of my dad waiting for me at the police station and the feeling I had walking up to him was burned in my mind and heart forever and I knew that would defeat any temptation I would ever have - and it did) so I lied to them. When they forced me to go to confession, I confessed to the priest that I had shoplifted, but I lied and said I had only done it once. I was so afraid that the priest would tell my parents that I lied during confession! Needless to say, I didn't exactly walk away from that feeling much better.
Third experience: I was at church camp my senior year of high school, and I was an enormous goody two shoes, but the one thing that I felt really guilty about was that I fought with my mom all the time (I talked about this in yesterday's post, too). I confessed this to the priest at church camp and he told me it was really no big deal. I don't even remember if he asked me to say the act of contrition or if he absolved me, but I walked away feeling belittled instead of light-hearted.

So from that point on, I decided that I didn't like confession and wouldn't go unless I committed a mortal sin (which I wasn't planning on ever doing).

However, this week in Medjugorje changed things. One of Mary's main messages to the world is that we need to go to confession. Yesterday, I heard Patrick's testimony about his sinful life and how amazing it was to go to confession and how the power to absolve sins is the greatest power God has given man. Then I heard the story of the children touching Mary and making her dress dirty.

I had decided that I would definitely go sometime this week, but I didn't know when.

So after climbing Apparition Hill, I decided to go.

It was COLD here today. Under 50 and cloudy and windy and rainy. I stood in line for the confessional for about a half hour, and my legs were shaking from the climb I had done earlier and the rest of my body was also trembling slightly from the cold and also from fear.

Going into a little room and confessing your "darkest" secrets to a total stranger is terrifying. Wondering if you even have the courage to do it (my sins aren't even that bad!!!) is painful. Remembering how it made you feel before (when you've had a couple bad experiences) is sickening.

I stood there and clutched my rosary and just prayed to Mary that She would give me strength. I told her that if I ever got the chance to touch Her, I wouldn't want to make Her dress dirty.

The priest in the confessional that I was waiting for looked old and mean and I thought about the things I wanted to confess from my college experience and cringed a little bit...

As I was waiting, the bells of the church played the first verse of "Amazing Grace" and I found some comfort in it. Then a round of "Ave Maria" broke out and I once again asked Mary for help.

Soon after, I saw a young priest in a Chelsea jacket grab a sign that said "English" and walk over to an open confessional. I immediately ditched my line and practically ran to that door to be his first of the day haha.

I told him about my previous confession experiences (including the fact that I lied during my 2nd confession) and that I hadn't been since I was 18. I let everything else out that I had been reflecting on in line, and without being able to help it, my voice shook and a few tears rolled down my cheeks.

I will pretty much tell anyone anything - including all of my sins - but for some reason, kneeling before God and admitting that they're sins and asking for forgiveness is so. much. harder.

This young British priest was very nice (thank you Mary!). He reassured me of God's love and forgiveness, offered me a tissue, gave me a penance, and absolved me of my sins.

He asked if I remembered the Act of Contrition and I said that I didn't, so he told me to repeat after him.

Oh my God, I am sorry that I have sinned against you.
Because you are so good, and with your help,
I will try not to sin again.
Amen.

I walked back into the chilly evening and took a deep breath. Sometimes, I have difficulty getting a full breath, but the breath I took felt like the deepest breath I've had in awhile. 

It felt like something had unclenched or relaxed in my chest area. It felt Good. I pray that Jesus takes the space in my heart where I had been holding that guilt and fills it with His love. ♥

I joined the Rosary that was going on and then knelt in silence at 6:40pm - during the daily apparition of Mary. Afterwards, I came back to the hotel with a bit of a lighter step :)