Not sure why? but confession has been on my mind this week. Maybe its my Catholic roots, maybe its because I regularly talk with Christ-followers who still live condemned or ashamed, (I so wish they didn’t) Maybe its because Easter is so close and the thought of Jesus dying on the cross for my sins always overwhelms me and that he rose three days later! Whatever it is…it caused me to remember a time when I was a little girl, 9 yrs. old. With six children in our family and one working parent, there were not a lot of frills, but mom had one prized possession, her dining room table. It was a special table to her and to us. I think it was special because of the way it was treated, we were always careful pulling the chairs out making sure not to drag the legs across the floor, everyone had their own place around it, and extra attention was given to every setting, everything in its proper place. Sitting around that table was almost magical, the talk of everyone’s day and the laughter shared around that table are forever etched in my fondest memories. But one day something happened to that table. My mother was setting all its places when she found a very large capital “A” carved in to its dark, polished wood. I remember being lined-up like all the children from the movie “Sound of Music” and Captain Von Trap (my mother) wanted to know who the culprit was! No one fessed-up, can’t say I blame them, the death penalty seemed imminent! Forward two years later, I’m 11 yrs. old, our youngest sister Colleen is 7 and making her first confession. She enters the little booth, pulls the curtain shut and begins in strangely enough, a very loud voice, I mean she is loud! Everyone in the church can hear her! She starts in the Catholic way, “Bless me Father for I have sinned, aloooong time ago I carved a capital “A” in my mom’s table!” It was out! We finally knew who the woodcarver was! My mother’s knuckles turned white clenching the pew in front of us. Me and my other sister Kelly, barely manage to keep our laughter from filling the high ceilings of the church. Mom gives us “the look” and then says, “don’t you dare tell your sister we know!” I can still see their faces, I remember the look of relief on my little sisters face as she exited the confessional, the weight of her deed lifted and the look on mom’s face, was one of my first pictures of grace. To our amazement mom never said a word. So? How much more is our Father God willing and desirous to forgive us?
1John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.