Confession Time

I went to confession today.  I admit that I don't go often, but I make a point of going at least twice a year.  If I did go more often, I think that would definitely strengthen my relationship with God, but I also feel that I talk to Him daily not only in prayer, but also in conversation.


The church was quiet, except for the sound of Christmas carols in the background.  There were two priests available all day, sitting in full view, on either side of the altar.  Now, quite often, this strikes the "Fear of God", literally, into most Catholics walking into church for reconciliation, but knowing that I had nothing embarrassing to confess, I was not daunted.


One of my favourite priests, Father Jim was free, so I kneeled down and prayed for a moment and thought about what I would say (bonus: no lineup!!).  He smiled as I approached.  It took me a moment to get organized as I had to put my purse down on the floor as I kneeled on the kneeler, and of course I had to place my cane down as well...yes, you read correctly, I am using a cane to get around.  Some days I can make it on my own, but often my balance is off and I need it for stability - then there are days like today where I just hurt and I need it to get around.  I also know that as the day progresses, I need the cane more and more, and I had planned on going to Costco afterwards as well, so preparation is key.  But I digress...


I confessed from being a hard-ass at work sometimes.  I know that although I try to be inclusive of my team, sometimes I need to lay down the law and I know that in the spring I had a temporary employee who was just "not all there" and so I had to ask for things 3 or 4 times and eventually I came to dislike her and I know that I was less than pleasant at times - I regret that.  I told Father Jim that Freddie and I had lost a baby over the summer and before I knew it, the tears were streaming down my face.  
I could barely whisper that I was angry, so angry all the time.  I confessed that I feel entitled to certain things, like sympathy and care from my family, and when I don't get it, I get angry again.  I confessed that I am lazy in prayer because I don't kneel down at night, instead I crawl into bed, I cuddle up to Freddie and I pray under the covers.  Now don't get me wrong, I DO NOT blame God for our loss, but I do feel lazy about prayer.  I was literally whispering this, as I couldn't even articulate my thoughts between the tears streaming down my face; Father Jim just smiled at me with such love and care and told me that it was OK to be angry and entitled. He reminded me that there is no perfect Christmas, but that it is Christmas regardless of our pain and suffering.  He encouraged me to pray, make a routine out of it, and to offer my pain and suffering to God.  He spoke with me for a long while and I know this because my knees were starting to give out on me.


I am really taking his suggestion to heart.  I'll try to find a quiet spot during the day when I can light a candle, read the Bible a little bit, and reflect on my prayer a bit more.  Hopefully if I publicly state that, I'll follow through - so feel free to ask me how its going.


I ended up staying another 30 minutes at church talking to God. I lit a candle for our angel and I prayed to St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes, begging for the chance to have a baby.  I'm hoping this will be our month...


Have you had difficulty with prayer? If so, how did you overcome it?