By Rae Lynn DeAngelis
By the look of my dangling legs, swinging from the church pew, I was about seven years old. The smell of recently lit candles wafted past my nostrils, a reminder that I was on holy ground. The magnificent sanctuary was nearly empty. My classmates spread a good five feet apart, no doubt a barrier to keep us from needless chatter while we waited for our first confession – the sacrament of Penance.
I remember feeling very anxious. What if I forget what to say? Or worse yet, what if I say something out of order? I shuttered at the thought and rehearsed more vigorously what I was supposed to say… Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession…
Each time the confessional door closed, the hollowed sound reverberated off the marble walls. Muffled voices followed. I secretly wished I could hear. When the door reopened, my classmate looked no worse for the wear. That was encouraging!
Some confessions were quick. Some took a long time. I guessed some had more sin than others.
When it was my turn, I wanted to run out of the church and never look back but, of course, I couldn’t. I had to face my fate like everyone else.
As I entered into the closet-like confessional, I noted an unexpected smell, a combination of musty wood and men’s aftershave. I was thankful to see a privacy screen between me and the priest. With my identity hidden, I sat down, swallowed hard, and began my rehearsed confession. I painted with broad strokes to ensure I covered all the bases. After all, seven years is a long time.
When I ran out of things to confess I fell silent and waited for my penance (or as my seven year old mind processed it – punishment). If memory serves me correctly, two “Our Fathers” and three “Hail Marys” were sufficient to wipe the slate clean. I went back to my seat, kneeled down, and began to pray. Back in the classroom, we compared our penalties. We decided more prayers equaled greater sin… or at least that was our understanding of how it worked. Forgiveness had to be earned, and prayer was the punishment, a mindset that took years to overcome.
It was not the church’s intent to warp my perception of prayer. But it was the enemy’s!
Do you know why?
Prayer connects us to the Power Source. Prayer fills us with Peace. Prayer helps us walk in our Purpose. Prayer… It’s not something we have to do. It’s something we get to do!
I didn’t understand it as a child, but I do now. Prayer following confession was not a form of punishment. It was a way to turn away from our sin and turn back to God. Now that I’m an adult, prayer is a special time of intimacy with my Heavenly Father. It is the means through which I have developed a deep and abiding relationship with Jesus. No fancy words. I just talk to God like He’s my best friend, because He is. And when I combine my words with God’s Word, my devotion time becomes even more fulfilling! It has become one of my favorite ways to pray. Here’s an example:
Lord, you are my all in all, my Rock and my Redeemer (Psalm 19:14). Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely (Psalm 139:4). Your love and forgiveness know no bounds (Romans 8:39). When I come before you in humble submission and confess my sin, no payment is required because you marked my debt paid in full (John 19:30). Search me, O God and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in my and lead me in your ways everlasting (Psalm 139:23). I can’t get enough of you, Jesus. I am like a broken cistern that leaks. Pour into me each and every day. (Jeremiah 2:13) Give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name (Psalm 86:11). I am yours, Lord, now and forever. Forgive me, renew me, and transform me. Thank you, Lord, for answered prayer.
