Tiny Fingers Point the Way
About ten years ago was our first Spring of baseball games out at a place called the Rec Plex. I remember a particular evening early in that first season. Our oldest was playing, so keeping the younger two occupied was a task. Not long into the game, our 5-year-old son came up to me, tapped me on the leg, and asked, “Can you take me to the confession stand?”
“Where do you want me to take you, Blaine?”
“To the confession stand. Can you take me to the confession stand?” Blaine repeated, as he pointed toward the small building with the line of people formed outside.
I followed the direction of his tiny finger and smiled, wanting that moment to last a bit longer. I didn’t want to forget the innocence and confidence behind what my 5-year-old was asking. One little letter changed his request from confession stand to concession stand. His request reflected his innocence, openness, and dependency. Children model those qualities for us so well.
This story probably popped into my head because I have recently been thinking about going to an actual “confession stand.” It’s Lent, after all. Fasting from my own will to wait for a more convenient time to go to confession is a good thing to do! I am grateful for the desire to go to confession now, but my perspective on confession has not always been filled with openness and dependence. Like many things, the hardest part was getting myself there. When my kids were younger, it seemed like Penance service after Penance service would go by, and while I had good intentions of getting someone to watch the kiddos and going, I found myself saying, “Well, I will make sure to go the next time a Penance service is offered" or, “I’ll get to Mass early on Saturday and go to the confessional.”
We all have our reasons, our reservations, for not going to the Sacrament of confession. A stimulus for me to go to confession was learning more about it. Gaining knowledge about the beauty of the Sacrament solidified reasons why I should want to go regularly. Rather than view confession as a hang-my-head, shameful experience, I began to see confession as a reparation of a relationship, mine with God. Confession resulted in an ability to better receive God’s Grace, and that seemed like a supernatural gift to me. We all desire self-improvement, right? Confession appeared to be the pinnacle of self-improvement when I more fully recognized, and experienced, its restorative and healing ability. As I mentioned, the tough part for me was actually getting there. Once I went, it made me wonder why I didn’t try to go more.
Another hurdle that prevented me from going to confession was myself. Honestly, this was my biggest roadblock. I had to get past myself in order to see something greater. My own schedule, my own will, my own determination of whether I really need to get to confession this Lent or next Advent were all my biggest deterrents to receiving the Sacrament of Confession.
The “confession stand” story makes me smile each time I think of it or re-tell it to Blaine and others. It also serves as a great reminder of the innocence, openness, and dependency that God desires of us in relationship with Him. May you continue to be pointed in the right direction this Lent.