If you haven’t read the story to I’m Sorry, please pause and read that. It’s a short read.

After spending a couple of hours in prayer and reflection while writing I’m Sorry, I went to bed feeling like a loser.  When was the last time I feed the hungry?  When did I visit the prisoner? Who, besides my own family did I tend to that was sick?  Where did I provide clothing for the naked? The list went on as I tried to sleep; the sleep of the guilty because the reality was, I was really good and preaching and teaching about Matthew 25:40 but damn, hadn’t been very active in living it out.  

The Sacrament of Reconciliation  is the celebration of God’s forgiveness already given.  It doesn’t happen just AFTER you confess and the Priest gives you absolution.  It’s already been done and he (the Priest) is reminding you of its presence in your life.  I knew that.  I believed that, even as a cradle Catholic; Sacraments are not the giving of but the embracing of what already is.  But I was really uneasy after writing I’m Sorry, as if I’d hit a personal soft spot in my conscious that was hurting.

I got up after an hour or so of not being able to sleep and went back into the kitchen where I wrote I’m Sorry.  I closed my eyes hoping to fall asleep sitting up in a kitchen chair.  “You think you failed me.  My friend, you think you’ve nailed me.” That’s what I heard when I closed my eyes.  So I closed them again.  “And now you’re worried. You think that I’m discouraged.  But I forgive you. Now you forgive you and let it be.”

I recall weeping a bit.  I recall breathing slowing and peacefully.  I recall believing the words I heard were exactly what Jesus would say if he were sitting in my kitchen with me.  “And my friend, I knew there would be times that you would fall. But I forgive you; every part of you the weak and the strong.” 

It continued, “And so my friend I’m inviting you to live again. So get in your feet.  Trust in me and we will win…if you’ll try again.”