Not your standard issue late twenty-something's blog.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

At last!

I figured it out. That sweet, odd smell in my bedroom? Regret.


During Mass this past Sunday, my favorite priest who greeted me warmly with a resounding "HI THERE!" as though we were old friends when I walked in shivering a few minutes late, discussed Lent as a renewal of our divinity. Recognizing our worth and value as sons and daughters of God. I can't remember the last time, if ever, Church moved me. And God knows I haven't been to confession in at least ten years. But I started to tear up.

Describing the Samaritan woman and how Jesus, a Jew, asked her for some water while he rested at the well, Fr. Whatshisname reminded us that we are not our sin. Our mistakes, our failures, our misjudgments . . . are not us.

When mass was over, we walked out, shaking hands with the priest as we made our way back out into the cold.

"God's peace," he said.


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