Finally I made it to the little chapel. A time to recharge. I stayed for about an hour and a half; probably a record for me, but I stayed until I was ready to go. No kids at home to worry about.
There was time to pray. I took my journal along and spent some time writing in it. Things usually sort out when I can write. I also worked my way through an examination of conscience as I wrote, since I'd had on my mind's calendar the possiblity of confession today, but no idea what I might need to confess. The days have been so hectic that I hadn't had time to give it much thought, and there were no glaring issues that I've felt the need to address.
It was just frustrating. I was aggravated with the examination of conscience and its questions that didn't really seem to be "naming my pain". I was irritated that answers weren't coming. (It was kind of how Lent has been for me, in a ntushell.) I had decided that I wouldn't go to confession today; it just didn't seem to be working out for me.
My last paragraph read something like: Lord, I don't know what I am doing here. I don't know the answers I am seeking. I want to know what to fix and how to do it.... Show me.
Then for some reason, I turned to a page in the back of my journal - less likely that someone will read it back there, I guess, And there in about two-thirds of a page and five minutes got to the heart of the matter. I usually make lists before confession (even if I don't use it, at least I have that security), but this is a paragraph. I could just rip it out and read it... Lord, I'm sorry for the mess, I'm sorry for the doubts, I'm sorry for the sins. He showed me, alright. I guess to be more correct, I should replace "the" with "my", but it is what it is.
I didn't make it to the confessional today, but, I'm aiming for Monday morning, bright and early (actually it won't be bright, it will still be dark, it's so early) before Mass. Hopefully the line will be really short. If you read this, prayers are always appreciated!