I finally got to confession and boy are my arms tired. Well that makes no sense but neither does the guy and the two children that raced to get in front of me and my sister. They stole our place. Irony would be lost on them but the anger gave me one more thing to tell the priest. These little annoyances can be really hard to let go of and handle with any grace at all. It happens in this city all the time in confession lines. I wonder if manners are dead and God is alive but too polite to smite anyone. That must be what Nietzsche was on about, will it was, God is dead to the way man lives and behaves. Nietzsche must have tried to go to confession too. We need joy and consideration and to behave, at the very least, as we would want others to behave.
It is helpful to look at the layers of my failings and let them unfold. Like taking off your clothes before the bath. You are naked and vulnerable with nothing hidden. Once you step into the water and feel it surround you all thoughts of the bareness and any chill from the air vanishes. There is only you and the warmth of grace. It is always a step toward hope and a new and better way of being. Maybe with puppies! Even just for pretend.