Before we go to Reconciliation, Mr. Andi and I get small notecards to write down what we intend to confess and we take those in with us, then destroy them afterward. I don’t know if other families do it this way, but it helps us remain focused, forces us to be intentional in our assessment of ourselves, and probably saves the priest a little time, as I can be a bit (ahem…) verbose. Before Easter, as I dug around in the drawer for a notecard, Mr. Andi scoffed at the idea that I would have anything that I needed to confess. He declared, quite forcefully, “I’m married to a saint!”
“Well, that is the goal!” I told him, laughing. Ah, if only it were true! I’m still working on it.
The Church has gifted us with the histories of the saints – people we can look to for encouragement. Some have left copious writings of theological depth, while others were ordinary people who simply left their example for us to follow. Many of them can seem like characters in a folk tale because their lives were so different from ours. But there’s one saint I admire and connect with in a personal way, and if you don’t know of her, you should.
