Yesterday I took J with me to confession. I must not have discussed this part of my faith with the hubby before because he questioned what sins I had committed that warranted confessing them to a priest (this is what Catholics do). I explained confession was not just reserved for major indiscretions, so he did not need to worry that I had a boyfriend on the side or that I was plotting or had committed some insidious act. While waiting our turn, I explained to J that I was going to tell Father the things I did wrong and then he would tell me some prayers to say. I told her we would be doing this behind a screen, and we would only hear (not see) Father, but it was important that she was quiet during this time. When it was my turn, I kneeled in front of the screen. Probably less than two minutes into it, I heard Father laugh and say, "Oh, we have a visitor." J had peeked her head on the other side of the screen while I was rattling off my not-so-good deeds. I tried to end ...
The various, and usually long-winded, thoughts that swim around my head.