happy new year!

What a "holiday"!  Never have I been so glad to return to work after one!  But here I am...still here...still kickin'!

Do I start at the beginning and go to the end?   Or start with the present and work backwards?

The "grandkids" were here for 10 days.  I have grandkids in quotes, because they are dear hubby's, not mine.  I don't mean to be ugly about it, but I am the mother of 2 teenagers.  I am the "uncle mama" (as the oldest grandchild accurately called me when he was much younger).  I don't feel very grandmotherly and I guess that's one thing you can't really rush.  I love my stepson, but it is not the same love that I have for my own two boys. 

Here they are...at the birthday party x 3 that was at my house. #1 is in the black shirt, #2 in the box, #3 in pink.  #4 has her back to us,  for #5  you can only see the head at the bottom of the pic, and #6 is my stepson's "mini-me"...blonde hair and all.  Here's another picture from the party...the anatomically (ahem) correct unicorn...

There were good moments, to be sure.  But it was just too much.  The parents didn't stay at my house, so when I hosted children, I couldn't be the indulgent grandmother, but rather had to work too hard at keeping law and order, feeding the picky, and keeping up with dishes and clothes.  The worst (can I complain?  yep, it's my blog, I surely can!) was New Year's Eve.  I had 4 of the six, plus my own two boys.  My husband was working.  I hadn't really asked for all 4...they just kind of ended up in my car with their backpacks.  Who was I going to send back?  Meanwhile the parents and grandmother rang in the New Year's with only 2 children.  Yeah, you might be sensing a tiny bit of resentment there.

The 5 year old slept with my younger teen, who had the pleasure of staying with him until he went to sleep/passed out.  "Mom, I don't think I want to be a teen dad," he told me after that night.  Better than all the courses on abstinence he could ever take!  Really, I wouldn't have made it without my boys!  They went outside later in the evening to pop some fireworks.  "Be especially careful not to blow off any body parts that will need reattaching," I warned them, 'because I am NOT taking six children to the emergency room!"  I was serious.

I had made it crystal clear that anyone who slept over at my house on Saturday would be going to church on Sunday, and should bring clothes appropriate for the occasion.  Still, one showed up with only the clothes she had on, and another said nothing fit, another couldn't find socks.  Nonetheless, we made it to Mass and everyone had the vital necessities covered.  The behavior was pretty good.  The five year old was probably the best.   The 12 year old made his First Communion that day.  (oops)  He has been with us to Mass before, and has always gone up for a blessing when we receive Holy Communion, but Sunday, he was seated behind us with his uncles (we have short pews that don't hold 8 people) and received.  There was nothing to do at that point. 

Anyway, as I said, there were good moments (hearing "I pooped in my underwear was NOT one of them) but 10 days was too long for me.  Call me selfish.  I went along with the program.  I did what I needed to do.  I don't think I caused any long-lasting harm to any of the children.  Chances are, I'll be in this situation again, and should probably be better prepared.  But by Sunday afternoon, I was done!  Finding the change container in my car MIA later that evening, when I needed 4¢ more to complete my transaction at the Dollar General did nothing to improve things. 

After the holidays I had had - the Christmas morning fiasco and the many moments of being a mom of many, I knew confession was a stop that needed to be on my itinerary sooner, rather than later.  On Wednesday, I dropped my kids off at the bus, and then made my way to the church near my school.  There is no Mass there on Wednesday mornings, so I spent about an hour there...just conversing with the Lord, reading a little bit, speaking with him in the tabernacle, and praying at the statue of the Holy Family, kneeling at the manger, where even there He reaches up to touch us.  I think I probably made myself more nervous than I needed to be about confession, but when I left the church that morning at about 7:30, the sun was up, and the sky was absolutely radiant.  I wish I would have had my camera, but pictures wouldn't have done it justice.  I knew then that things would be OK. 

I drove down the road to my church.  Mass is at 8, and that is too late for me with work, but confessions are at 7:45, which is perfect!  Bless me Father...it's just been a couple of weeks...but they sure were some long ones!  He's OK with a little humor, sometimes.  I said what I had to say, owned the things I needed to own, but then I had a question.  I don't generally bring up what other people say and do in confession, because it's about me, not them, but this I needed an answer to.  I hesitated, because I wasn't sure if he would give me an answer or not, but I went ahead and asked.  I have said it before, and I will say it again....my confessor is awesome!  He was so kind, so encouraging and affirming.  He laid it all on the table, spelled it out.  He knew exactly what I was asking, and knew exactly what to say in response.  I felt so much better leaving than I did coming in!  I have no idea how long we spoke - 5, 10 minutes, but it made the whole day better!

And so here we are....the Christmas season is almost over.  We have rung in 2012.  (Is anyone planning to wait until after the supposed end of time to Christmas shop this year?).  The church will soon switch over to Ordinary time for a few weeks before Lent...and life rolls on. 

Our task and my penance from yesterday to reflect on...To do the will of God, to do it in the manner in which He wills it, and to do it because it is His will.  (From St. Elizabeth Seton - who's feast was yesterday)

finding the beauty

After the last post, maybe it's time for something beautiful.  

I have taken so many pictures in the past few months.  

There is beauty in the late fall and early winter.  

But they haven't really fit nicely into a blog post.

(They don't really have much to do with this one, either, but I thought I'd share...)

The other day there was a beautiful sunset.  

One of my kids noticed it out the front window, and we ran outside with our cameras. 

I went hiking in the woods yesterday.  

True, it was with 8 other people.  

 But there is just something about walking in the woods.  

Something about it that makes it kind of a solitary thing even with other people.  

Maybe it is because you often walk single file? 

This water is an ugly, muddy brown.  

But when you look at it again - look deeper - it offers a vivid reflection of the surroundings.  

Often more intense than the original. 

It is like that with God, with others?  

What are we missing by just seeing the ugly, muddy, brown water?

Today is the Feast of the Holy Family.  

Convenient to have that after Christmas, isn't it?  

Probably wasn't exactly what the church was thinking when they placed it there on the calendar, though.  Mine has been an unholy mess lately.  

All these extra children....  I ran my dishwasher twice yesterday.  

The supper conversation, after I heated up a spiral sliced ham, went like this: 

"I don't like ham."  "Well....do you like peanut butter and jelly." 

"Yes."  "Great - one slice or two?"  

"Two."

...... A little while later......

"Are there peanuts in the peanut butter?"  "Well, as a matter of fact, yes."  

"I don't like peanuts in my peanut butter."  

[Insert sigh here.] 

"Do you like toast?"  

But all around us there is beauty.  

This picture was of a few weeks ago.  The leaves were turning.  

Only God could create such a pattern - even with turning leaves.  

The homily this morning was one I needed to hear.  

Would love to hear again.

Families are the basic building block of our society.  

And if they mirror our society, 

then there is no wonder that there is greed, jealousy, hurt, anger in our families.  

But the change has to start in our families - in the domestic church.  

Prayer.  Forgiveness.  Love.
Our greatest joys...and also our greatest hurts
are probably found in the context of family life.

I've got quite my own situation.  

One that I'm pretty sure I can't sort out by myself, 

and even more unlikely - fix by myself.

Which is why we have God.

A God of miracles.

A God of the impossible.

(side note....^ that bird is really kind of ugly when it is flying...)

There was a wonderful bit from JP2 today at Mass about the role of the family.  

I will share it if I can find it.  

And there were the familiar verses from Colossians about 

compassion, gentleness, humility, gentleness, patience.

Noticeably absent from the list are

impatience, complaining, anger, self-righteousness.  

I could probably go on.  

Though I'm not really sure how much sense I've made thus far.

It's hard to think.  

But, I think I'm out of pictures for now.

And there is a birthday party happening later today at my house,

and much cleaning to be done before that happens.  

Prayers for Holy Families.

where to start?

Am I alone in wishing that holidays could sometimes just pass unnoticed?  It seems like there is always a holiday issue.

Keeping it real, here, people  Advent was more or less OK. Christmas Eve was nice.  Christmas morning Mass was lovely.  And then it all hit the proverbial fan.  Something was said.  Feelings were hurt (mine).  More things were said.  Voices were raised.  Doors were slammed.  All in all, it was not a pretty scene.  For the birthday celebration of the Prince of Peace. 

I am so not a door-slamming kind of person.  I let things go.  I overlook a lot.  But it just blew.  I felt justified.  I know that the other party is not totally at fault, but I also know that there is a lot of validity to what I am feeling, thinking.  I still haven't sorted through it all...still haven't figured out how to make it better.  This is where it is handy to have someone to bounce ideas off of - someone who is not going to automatically take either side, but give you an objective picture.  But that is hard to find.

I thought briefly about going to confession this morning before Mass, but I wasn't sure exactly what I'd confess or if I was actually sorry or just wanting to complain.  So I figured I'd wait...

But there were some good moments, too.  I like this picture of my dad and granddad.  My granddad turned 95 in April, and his health has not been the best in recent months.  But he was with us for Christmas - alert and "with it".   It brings back bitter-sweet memories of an elderly neighbor of my parents who was like a grandparent to us.  About three or four years ago, she was with us for Christmas - as good as ever - and then gone two weeks later. 

And this picture of my brother and sister watching their little ones play.

Dear Hubby's grandkids are visiting.  There are six - ranging in age from nearly 3 to just turned 12.  The oldest always spends most of his time with us when they visit.  He likes hanging out with "the uncles" who are nearly 15 and 16.  They enjoy him in limited quantities.  He thinks he is on vacation...but there is still boring stuff to be done - like raking leaves.

With a house that is big enough to hold a few more, we have also had some of the others spending the nights and days.  One night I had the 5, 6, and 12 year olds. The 5 year old was walking around the house at 3 am crying.   Last night was the 6 and 9 year olds.  They are good kids as kids go, but taking care of other people's kids during my Christmas break...  Is it wrong to feel that way? 

I am so thankful that my 16 year old has wrestling practice at 7 a.m.  That means we have to leave the house before they wake up.  I go to Mass and work-out or run errands waiting for him to finish.  A little bit of peace. 

Does anyone have cheese to go with my whine?

preparation and anticipation

Or alternately titled, I don't have everything bought and wrapped and need a respite from the madness.  (And making up for the recent lack of pictures.)

Wednesday, I picked up my friend for her meeting with our priest.  Wednesday was one of those days when hardly anything went right, but this did.  She met with him in his office, while I waited in the church (a blessed hour for me, for sure)  He answered all of her questions, she said what she needed to say.  He was kind and wise (as he always is) and in about an hour, nearly 40 years of "stuff" was washed away.  She said he did not talk down to her, he did not question or fuss (I had told her he wouldn't, but...).  Thank you for holy, humble priests who make time for this wonderful sacrament.  As we left, he was knocking on the door to the office of another priest who has an office on our parish property.  His turn at confession, she said.  Yep, priests go, too.  Preparing for Christmas.

Our first Christmas in our new house!!  Finally I have a house that I can decorate!!  But I had no decorations.  I was beginning to imagine that our neighbors thought we were Jewish or something.  Bought this ^ yesterday at Lowe's.  It was relatively inexpensive.  I think there are 2 categories of people - those who like white lights and those who like the colors.  We are color lights people! 

The tree is from the "old house".  As a matter of fact it was still in the shed there, and that was one of my things on Wednesday morning - extracting it.  It took up way too much square footage in the old house, but it looks quite inadequate here.  Part of it broke as we were putting it up.  Thank you to my younger child for taking care of the tree-putting-up duties.

We decorate to make things special for the one who is going to visit, the good Father says.  We need to make sure we do as much "decorating" on the inside (in our souls) as we do on the outside.  But perhaps that was an idea that was better suited for earlier in Advent.  It is kind of lost on some members of my family.  Sometimes I feel like the voice of one calling out in the desert.  Other times, I remind myself that even Jesus wasn't accepted among his people.  I mentioned to my little family the other night that Father was hearing confessions that evening from 6:30 to 7:30.  I had no takers, just a sarcastic comment.  (sigh)  I forget that I live among saints sometimes. (Oops...would that be sarcsasm?)

Waiting for the One who is to come.  I am so thrilled to have room to set up things this year.  The side view (below).  Those who have yet to arrive on the scene.

When we moved, one thing that we had in spades was wrapping paper.  We would buy it, not use it, and then by the next year, could not find it, or it was buried under whatever.  It was like an archaeological dig.  I may never have to buy wrapping paper again.  Especially if the world ends next year before Christmas.  What's the date?  December 21, 2012??  I don't keep up with that stuff.

We had a lot of Christmas lights, too.  Not sure what happened to them.  Maybe we didn't bring them?  Maybe they are still in the shed.  For whatever reason, the tree was half-lighted.

But we fixed that.  I had bought 2 of the garland thingies from Lowes - having no clue how much it would take for the bannister.  The second one became tree lights.

I have wrapped some of the presents (in vintage wrapping paper, no less).  Is it ironic that the first present under our tree is from my stepson's mother?  Probably so.  My stepson is coming in from out of town today with his wife and (6) children.  Most of them are staying at his mom's house (our old house), so we are dropping off some cots over there later today.  It is nice to have a relationship that is not full of mistrust and animosity, but it wasn't always that way.  That is why the Prince of Peace humbled Himself to come into our midst.

 
This morning after 6:30 Mass, we decorated our church - a friend and I, and the good Monsignor.  This was 2 1/2 hours of a labor of love.  We brought the flowers and the nativity figures in from the parish hall and got the wreaths and other decor out of the attic above the sacristy.  Curves was closed today, but I got my workout in, I assure you!  Monsignor took care of the sanctuary, my friend and I took care of the rest of the church.  It was our third year, and this year, it worked out well.  We all knew what needed to be done.  "Enough, but not too much," was the consensus.  He says that is how you know when decorating is well-done.

The choir loft.  That gold thing took more time than it should have to attach (with ducT tape and velcro).

A wreath underneath each station of the cross.

There were new decorations for the window sills this year.  Two years ago, we put spray-painted pine cones there.  All throughout Mass, you heard the sounds of pine cones hitting the floor.  At the end of Mass, in the back corner near the cry room, was a little pile of pine cones.  I pointed that out to our priest, and we shared a laugh. Last year, we skipped the pine cones.  This year, a parishioner made these arrangements for the window sills.  Very nice!

And when we were done, there was a beautiful poinsettia for each of us from our pastor.  "Extras," I asked?  (Was that a dumb question?)  "No, by design," he quietly said.   It is so nice to be appreciated!  And I had just the spot for it!

And so it is almost upon us.  In all of the buying and wrapping and decorating....let us not lose sight of Who's birthday it is and what we are celebrating.  May our preparations point the way to Jesus, who loved us enough to become one of us!

Not sure if I'll be back here before Christmas, but if I'm not....a joyful, peaceful, safe Christmas to all of you and yours!

gifted

My apologies for the lack of pictures lately.  I took a few yesterday and then my battery died.  Sigh.

What's been happening here?

I am a slacker mom.   The advent candles haven't been lit.  I haven't baked cookies.  I still have too much shopping left to do.  We still haven't put up a tree.  As a matter of fact, I don't think our tree made the move.  I think it is still in the shed at the other house.  But I haven't had a chance during daylight hours to get in there to see.

Actually we haven't decorated for Christmas at all.  Tonight I cleared a spot in the garage so that I could get the attic stairs down.  (A lot of stuff that came from the old house is still in the garage...we I have lost our my momentum with getting it put away.)  Anyway, there were 4 whole boxes of stuff in the attic...all Christmas stuff.  We brought them down.

When I was in the attic, I smelled something....death.  And then I saw it!  OMG!  EWWWWW!  Hanging over a beam at the top of the attic was a dead R-A-T!!!  They looked at me like I was going to get it down.  NOT!  There are three people in this house with y-chromosomes.  That makes them infinitely more suited for vermin disposal than me!!  Three cheers for #1 son!  And #2 son who was his assistant!

Last night, our parish had its annual Lessons and Carols "prayerformance".  I volunteered to read when I saw our choir director on Facebook lamenting the lack of readers.  (Our local college team played in a bowl game in New Orleans this weekend [and won!!] and half of our city was in New Orleans - including a couple of readers.)  I had the reading about the bud shooting from the stump of Jesse.  That was all well and good until I got to the part with the ox laying down with the lamb and the lion browsing with the goat and who knows whatever else.  I was afraid I was going to have the wrong animal doing the wrong thing with some other animal!  And then I left my binder with the reading in it on the podium.  (I discreetly retrieved it when we all stood a few readings later to sing a carol.)  One of our nuns this morning - God love her - told me that I had read well (I don't usually read), but that I wasn't loud enough.  She could hear me, she said, but if someone was deaf...they wouldn't have heard me!  The music was beautiful....as always.  Some of it in Latin, some of the songs unfamiliar...but beautifully sung by our little choir of a dozen members.

The closing song:  Cantus by Connie Dover


Sometimes when I think my Advent or Lent has been kind of "blah", I need to look to see what God is doing in the lives of those around me.  I have a co-worker friend whom I have known for many years - at least 10.  She is old enough to be my mother. Without going into all the specifics - she has been away from the church for a long, long, long time.  Decades.  A lot of them.  She's been coming to Mass on Sundays for the past year and a half or so.  Sometimes, all you have to do is invite someone who has been away.  And the Holy Spirit does his part.  But always at Communion time, she moves out of the way and lets the others out of the pew.  We have been talking about confession for a long time.  She was one of the people that I shared my good news with 10 years ago.  And she told me that she had "problems" with confession.

My friend is stubborn.  If she happens upon this, she will agree.  But God is God of the impossible.  I doubted that this would ever happen, but she came to school last week saying that she needed to talk to that man (our priest).  Scared to death of the whole idea, but willing to listen to the *something* that was telling her to do this.  I didn't push right then...I waited a few days and asked if she was going to call to make an appointment or if she wanted me to email "that man" and see what could be set up.  He is busy, you know, and who knows if he would have time this week.  She gave me the go-ahead to email him, and the next morning I had an email from him saying that he would do WHATEVER it took for her to have peace, along with some beautiful words of encouragement, which I passed along.  Long story short....Wednesday is the day, people!  Say a prayer for courage for her and wisdom for him.

I have a couple of Examination of Conscience Apps on my iPad - one is really thorough.  Today I wrote out detailed directions for her to access it - if she wanted - and to take some notes.  I told her she could probably skip the one about nipple piercing.  We laughed.  Prostitution.  Forgery.  Blackmail.  Negative for all three.  She's still nervous, but feeling a little better about the whole prospect I think.  God is so Good.

So even thought the presents aren't wrapped yet, the cookies may never get baked (because none of us really need the calories), and the advent candles may get saved for next year.....my friend will receive His presence on Christmas.  The most important Gift that we receive.  Lord, thank you for coming to save us.  Thank you for giving us the gift of yourself.

10 years ago today....

and waited.....

In retrospect, I have wondered if I just assumed that churches had confessions before daily Masses.  To this day, I don't know if there were supposed to be confessions that day or not.

Finally one of the church ladies asked me if I was waiting for confession.  I told her I was, and she offered to go get Father.  There would have been times where I would have just died before agreeing to that, but at this point, I was going to confession.  Before Mass.  After Mass.  If I had to hunt the priest down myself.  I was not leaving without confessing.  Maybe that was the Holy Spirit - inspiring that boldness.  I was only a little nervous.

A couple of minutes later, the priest arrived, dressed in khakis and a sweater.  I have known him for a long time, so I was not offended when he asked me, "is this going to take long?"  I knew that Mass was scheduled to start soon.  I told him that if he didn't talk too much, it surely wouldn't.  I think he told me that he had just gotten back from the Saints' Monday Night Football Game in New Orleans.

And so we entered the confessional.  Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...it's been about 8 years....

It didn't take long.  It had been a while and I had "stuff', but it was mostly the same stuff over and over, which makes for a pretty short list.  I really didn't even attempt "the small stuff".  I just went with the major [mortal] items.  We were sitting face-to-face...he had his eyes closed...and I was genuinely amazed at the time that he did not even bat an eye.  He didn't gasp in horror.  He just listened.  And because most of it were things that were over and done with, I don't think he even commented much.

Actually, I don't remember what, if any, counsel he gave.  I don't remember what my penance was.  I think he told me to say my Act of Contrition later.  I do know that I floated out of that confessional.  There was so much weight that was lifted - just like that.  I floated for days...I know I did.

I sat down in the pew afterwards.  I hadn't intended to go to Mass, but I figured I might as well while my soul was in a state of grace.  I remember the sensation like that of a warm blanket - fresh out of the dryer - around my shoulders.  A divine embrace?

I received Communion for the first time in a long time.

Later at home, I shared my good fortune with my BFF by email.  How I wish I still had a copy of that email!

There were graces in the days that followed.  It was a wonderful time.  I shared my joy with anyone who would listen!

Christmas came a week later, and what a special Christmas it was to receive Jesus and to have a soul ready to welcome him into my life.

Today is an anniversary that I will remember fairly privately, but I am so thankful.  This event was life-changing and life-giving. 

As divine providence would have it, I was scheduled today to serve at Mass this morning!  What a privilege! What a way to celebrate!

10 years ago tomorrow...

After 9-11, my family found its way back into the pews of a church, but it took me a little while longer to make it all the way back "into the boat".  I had taken somewhat of a leave of absence from church.  It had started when I was pregnant with my first born.  We had a new pastor, and try as I might, I was not really all that fond of him.  I was tired one Saturday afternoon (when I would have had a chance to go to Mass) and decided just to skip it.  I remember that like yesterday.  And from then on, it got easier and easier not to go. 

I had a baby...and it was just to hard to plan church attendance around naps and nursing.  And then there were two.  My toddler nearly escaped in the parking lot one Sunday after Mass when I let go of his hand to open the door to put the baby in the car.  And then there was the time as preschoolers that they stopped a homily dead in mid-sentence fighting over a book.  (This church is now our parish and they altar serve there, but we didn't return for a l.o.n.g time after that episode.)

So, yeah, church attendance was sporadic.  Until 9-11.

I don't remember if we would abstain from Holy Communion in our sometimes attending church days, but for some reason, at this point, we knew that we should.  So we stayed in the pew while everyone else received.

In the months that followed, I was like a fish on a hook.  Caught.  But still flopping around.  Not quite in the boat.  I knew I needed to go to confession, but I surely wasn't all that eager to go.  I was hoping that in the time that I had been away, the church had caught up with the times and figured out how to do email confession.  I was pretty sure that would be better than face-to-face.  A whole lot less embarrassing, anyway, because you know, I had some "things" on my list.

I devoured information on the internet about confession.  And do you know, I did not find one loophole that would let me off the hook.  No email confession.  No statute of limitations.  No magic formula of prayers and good deeds. But I did find plenty of evidence that other people had gone to confession, some with similar or even worse things than those on my list, and even lived to tell about it!  Much of what I read was encouraging.  I would read and reread those things.  I was just going to have to do it!

So I began to formulate my plan.  I thought Advent would be a good time because there were Penance Services in Advent and everyone knows there is safety in numbers there.  But, alas, Penance Services didn't seem to be quite as popular as they had been 15 or so years earlier.  I know most priests will schedule confessions "by appointment", but there was no way in h-e-double hockey sticks I was going to call and put my business out there with the secretary and whoever else.  So...it was going to just have to be a regular confession time. 

Trying to get away on a Saturday afternoon with a 4 and a 6 year old just wasn't going to happen in my world.  Everywhere I went, they went, and that just wasn't going to work for this.  And the priest...just any old priest wasn't going to do.  I wanted someone who I knew wouldn't throw me right out of the church.

The priest at the parish where we had started attending after 9-11 was just such a person.  He had been at the Catholic Student Center when I was in college and then was pastor at the parish I had attended before my leave of absence.  He had married dear hubby and I.  I knew him well, and I knew that he would react with the compassion of Jesus.

His parish had an evening Mass on Tuesdays (and I assumed confession before Mass) .  Tuesday was a good day because dear hubby would pick up the children from school and deposit them at his Mom's house before he headed off to work (so they were taken care of).

As I had searched the internet the last few months, the list had pretty well formed in my head.  It was major stuff.  And some of it, I wasn't sure that *I* agreed that it was a sin.  But at some point, I decided that it really didn't matter if I agreed or not.  That perhaps if "they" said it was, then perhaps they knew more than me and since I was going, I might as well just put it all out there on the table.  Better safe than sorry.  I was tired of carrying it around.  

So I had picked my day, my priest, and I had my list.  I took the day off of work.

I wanted to Christmas shop.  It was hard to do that, too, with kids that went everywhere I did.

The night before I could hardly sleep.  By this time, it was not nervousness.  It was excitement!  It was Jesus that I was going to meet in that little room!  Sure, the priest would be there...because he had to be, but it was Jesus that I was talking to.  I was like that prodigal son, going back home.

That day I shopped.  I shopped alone, and I remember that it was a very reflective day.  I was very aware of what was going to happen later that afternoon.  I ate lunch alone - at Taco Bell.  I passed the time, but I knew Jesus would be waiting.

I drove to the little town where the church was located.  I remember wondering that if I would die on the way, would I go to Heaven, because at least I was on my way to confession....

I got to the little church and went in.  There were "church ladies" there.  One was praying the Stations of the Cross.  The confessional was in the back of the church, so I sat in a pew there.  But there was no priest there.  So I waited....