As soon as I hit Publish I’m going to head out to confession.
In my long road from atheism to Christianity, one of my favorite memories is when I made my first confession, the Wednesday before Easter of last year. When I think back on it I first remember the ethereal chant music that wafted throughout our beautiful church, and the surprising sense of stillness and peace that pervaded the sanctuary, even though there were more than 500 other people there. I remember marveling at the diversity of the crowd: a man in an expensive business suit would be standing next to a young construction worker in muddy workboots, followed by a teenage girl and an elderly lady. We were all so different, yet all united by our beliefs, all there for the same purpose. I remember thinking about all the unpacked boxes that waited for me at home, and how thrilled I was about our much-needed new house. It felt like it was the first day of the rest of my life, and it was.
I don’t have time to write much more today, but to celebrate the memory of this wonderful event in my life, here are some posts in which I’ve shared my experiences with this sacrament:
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