Your Sins

Our Hearts Cry Out

The Real Reason

Repentance Required

Painting used: Anthony Frederick Augustus Sandys

Like a Grain of Sand

    'Our faults are like a grain of sand beside the great mountain of the mercies of the good God.'

St. John Vianney

      Painting: John George Brown, in US public domain due to age

On the Morning of Confession

'When our Lord is with us, 
light is poured abroad
on life's path, 
light is shed around
in the house of our soul,
His own living Tabernacle.... 

'On the morning of Confession, 
show Him round the house; 
show Him what needs repair;
show Him where thieves 
break in and steal; 
be busy telling Him all, 
and beg of Him the grace 
of perfect contrition.'

(from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1936, p. 223)



This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Linkup

Do You Fear the Mercy of God?

"The Magdalene, most of all, is the model I like to follow.  

That boldness of hers, which would be so amazing 

if it were not the boldness of a lover, won the heart of Jesus." 

(St. Therese of Lisieux)

"My child, do you fear the mercy of God?

 My holiness does not prevent Me from being merciful....

 You can come to Me at any moment, at any time;

I want to speak to you, and desire to grant you grace."

(Jesus to St. Faustina) 

Painting:  Frederick Sandys, Maria Magdalena 

The Same Light

"As the day breaks we see more clearly in a mirror the spots and stains of our faces.  In the same way, as the inward light of the Holy Spirit enlightens our consciences, we see more clearly and distinctly the sins, inclinations and imperfections that keep us from reaching true devotion. The same light that enables us to see such defects and imperfections inflames us with a desire to cleanse and purify ourselves of them."  (St. Francis de Sales)

"I acknowledged my sin to You, my guilt I covered not.  I said, 'I confess my faults to the Lord,' and You took away the guilt of my sin.  (Psalm 32:5)

(public domain painting)

Melted Away....

"I count up Your graces and Your mercies, because You have melted my sins away as if they were ice.  

"And whatever evils I have not done, that too I reckon as Your grace.  For what might I have done when I loved vice for its own sake?  

"I acknowledge that all things have been forgiven me, both the evils I did of my own free will, and those which, by Your guidance, I did not actually do."  (St. Augustine)




(painting in US public domain)

erasing the board

As I stand poised at the edge of Lent, I find myself reflecting upon the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Today I stumbled across this from Charles de Foucauld: 

“When you want to write on a blackboard, you must first wipe off what is written there.”  

Several things occur to me as I read this.  First of all:  chalk is not permanent.  Nor are my sins.  Once the “board” has been erased, the original mistakes can no longer be read. 

Second:  a blackboard cannot be erased unless something is done.  Someone has to actually take action and clean the board.

Third:  a chalkboard eraser is not a steel wool pad.  It is soft.  It’s made to clean the board, not harm it.  If a blackboard could feel, I doubt it would cry “ouch.”

“God,” wrote St. Gregory the Great, “scourges our faults with strokes of love, to cleanse us from our iniquities.” 

Strokes of love.  Not lashes and paddles, but strokes of love.

Jesus wants to erase every one of my sins.  He knows I cannot do it on my own.  He has given the Sacrament of Reconciliation as a (gentle, loving, healing) Eraser.  I pray, on the eve of this Lenten season, for the grace to “confess my sins, do penance, and amend my life."  May Our Lord write what HE wants on my life; may He make it totally His own. 

(This post is part of Catholic Blog Day.  Clicking on this line will take you to another site, where you can find other bloggers' reflections on Lenten penance and reconciliation)

I sorry

Some breadbox finds are uncovered at the moment I need them.  Like this one, written by me several years ago.  I rediscovered it just as I was realizing I’ve been much too complacent about gifts God has given me: 

    “A few days ago I was putting a bowl of soup on my two year old granddaughter's high chair tray and she (having decided that she wanted nothing to eat) yelled ‘NO!!’  She slammed the bowl off onto the floor.  Then I knelt and proceeded to silently clean up the mess as she sat there in silence.  It took me several trips up and down to get more towels.  I worked matter-of-factly.  She sat very, very STILL.  She tried giving a little giggle, and I did not respond or look up.  Then she said, very meekly, ‘I sorry.’  I stood up and kissed her swiftly on the forehead and said ‘I forgive you.’  She watched me very soberly as I got her down, and we went on about our evening as always and all was well. 

    I keep thinking of that very sweet ‘I sorry,’ and it touches my heart.”

As I read this, I can almost imagine my heavenly Father saying, when I come to Him in repentance:  “I forgive you.  I have heard your ‘I sorry.’  And it touches My Heart.”