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A new month or even any old ordinary Monday smacks of a fresh chance to me. You can start over. You can begin anew. The slate has been wiped clean. Go get them!
It used to be that confession was like that, too.
The recommended visits were, I think, on Fridays. The idea is that you would
remember all the bad things you had done during the past week. The problem with
that was that I never really felt I had done anything bad. But you had to have
something. Right?
I’d make up sins. Mostly, they involved picking
on my brother, who regularly picked on me. I never brought that part up, but I did
know it was a regularly recurring item. The other thing was that I said I stole
cookies. From our house. I mean, who does that? Except, I did end up later in
life with an eating disorder, so that one was prophetic. I didn’t lie, cheat,
or steal except for the cookies. God said not to steal, so that was about as
bad as I got.
If you didn’t make it to confession, you’d need
to double or triple the sins. That made sense. At least, it did to little old 9-year-old
me.
As the years passed, we stopped going to church
as a family. We drifted away from each other, and it was pretty much every man
for himself.
When it came time for Dennis and me to get
married, we went before the city’s mayor and got a civil wedding. We lived in
Stuttgart, Germany, at the time. Our wedding license is in 7 languages. The
ceremony was 7 minutes in German and 7 minutes in English for my benefit.
It was some years later, after we had returned
Stateside, that we decided to get married in the Church. Catholics don’t
forget. I had a good 20 years’ worth of sins to recount. You had to go to
confession before you could be married in the Catholic Church.
Once again, I made things up. As an adult, I had
a better handle on sinning than I did as a child. There were a number of things
that I could call upon. And I did. However, the kicker happened when a few
things happened. My priest was old. I’m talking older than I am now. He also
couldn’t hear. He was also flatulent, but I didn’t find that out until after it
was finished, and I was kneeling in the pews saying all the prayers he’d told
me to say. There were a lot of them.
After I’d done with some good juicy sins, the
priest asked me how many times Dennis and I had sex.
For the first time in my life I didn’t say, “What?”
I said, “Why do you want to know that?” He told me he needed to forgive me for
each and every time. I did some quick math in my head and came up with what I
thought was a reasonable number. Even though we had been married in a civil ceremony we were not married in the eyes of the Church.
Now, I did not actually answer these questions in
a low voice, which is what everybody does in a confessional. No, this priest
couldn’t hear. He kept saying, “What? I can’t hear you. Speak louder!” I
figured whoever was in the church could hear me all the way up to the altar.
Talk about embarrassing.
Anyway, finally it was over. I figured I’d at
least get started on the penance he’d given me. I knew it was going to be a while, and I’d likely need to be saying prayers for some time. So, I knelt with all
the other people. Come to think of it, nothing could have prevented anybody
from just stopping in to enjoy the show each week. Anyway, the priest began clearing
his throat. Then, we heard the farts. I hoped nobody was in the confessional
with him. No telling what they smelled like.
I actually, didn’t mean to go into so much detail
about that. What I was trying to point out is that after a confession, you are
in a state of grace. And, you can have better intentions for the coming week,
or, in my case, the next 45 years, give or take. A fresh start.
So, my goals for December? Write more. Do our
2025 finances. That’s enough. Maybe a flu shot. Oh, and I want to do ten
minutes, or so, a day with the Lingopie
course I bought. I’d also like to get back into my Masterclasses. Maybe an hour
a day with them.
More channeling, too. I feel like that is
important.
We could speak to you in Spanish.
Thank you, but I don’t think just yet.
Por qué? (which means why)
Oh, you’re funny. Because I don’t think I know
enough words. But thank you, yes, that’s a good idea.
So, a fresh start. Maybe I should have two reset
buttons during the course of any week. Like on Wednesdays, I could track back
and see what might need some attention. Something like that.
Thanks for reading. I’ve listed other places I am on the internet below.
Love,
🌺 Pauline
Evanosky
🌺My Links:
The Best Stuff for Kids on YouTube
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Talking To Spirit on YouTube
Pauline Evanosky on Medium
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Talking To Spirit — my website
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