Part of Adoration today was reserved for praying a “Rosary for Life,” asking the Holy Mother to help end abortion. I can’t believe that not too long ago, I was solidly pro-choice, always with the caveat, “I’m glad I never had to make that choice, but I think everyone needs to decide for themselves.”
How our society brainwashes us not to see that these are real human beings—not clumps of cells, not sacs of tissue, like Planned Parenthood wants to make us believe, but living, breathing, feeling, thumb-sucking, even dreaming, baby-shaped babies who are violently dismembered. Sliced and diced and then dumped in the trash… at the behest of their own mothers who all too often are themselves victims of the insidious abortion machine, a bloodthirsty demon god that demands new child sacrifices every day. Another thing to confess today.
This is the first confession of this Lenten season, and I’m planning on keeping up on them. I tell Father I. about my lack of faith and trust in God, that I’m so worried about coming up with my son’s college tuition, my impatience, my indecent thoughts, my pride and vanity, my inability to feel truly close to Jesus and Mary. I’ve always had a thing for God, but Jesus, for some reason, feels harder to relate to. I also confess my judgmental thoughts and words about other people, including Pope Francis, my lack of charitable acts. I remorsefully remember the 80-year-old lady who quite obviously wanted me to keep visiting her, but I blew her off because I didn’t have enough time for that—or rather, I figured my precious time would be better spent elsewhere.
Confession makes me realize that I’m a pretty horrible person and still have a long way to go to achieve anything even vaguely resembling holiness. But hearing the kind, understanding, only mildly reprimanding words of the priest and then being absolved of all your sins feels astonishingly good, even though I’m still kind of foggy on what that actually means.
As Father J. likes to say, “Few people like going to confession, but almost everyone loves having gone to confession.”
“God is not out to destroy us,” says Father I. in his heavy Nigerian accent during Mass. He seems to have read my mind; I was wondering about that after reading today that worldwide, 27 (!!!) volcanoes are currently actively erupting. I can’t help thinking that God is ticked off. I would be if I had to watch the cesspool this world has become in the last hundred years or so.
“God is always calling out to people,” says Father I., “but they ignore Him and go about their business.” Apparently, that was the case in Old Testament times just as much as today.
“Now is the time of fulfillment,” intones Father I. “Now is the time for us to repent. When you hear the call of God, don’t hesitate to come back to Him. And when He calls you to pray, don’t put it off.”
I promise, God, I will do my best not to ignore you anymore.