Confessions of a happy camper

Hello to my loyal readers. I am feeling rather negligent for not updating my posts in the last while. I know how disappointed I am when Laura hasn't posted something new (hint, hint and ha ha). As my friend Clara always used to say, "All is rosy in the garden." I can say that it is well with my soul. A lovely woman handed me a bouquet of spring flowers today. A four year old boy gave me a big hug. I got an awesome phone call from my eldest daughter. We fed thirty people. I met with the Joy Club and shared lots of giggles as well as lots of love and wisdom. The snow is melting from our grass. I lost 1.4 pounds this week. My nephew asked Liz to marry him. I spent an hour rejoicing with my sister over this on the phone. My dad phoned and I got to hear mama's voice before he even said hello.  The list goes on and on and on. In the midst of it, we are planning the funeral service for our dear Thelma on Sunday, a friend is having a mastectomy on Friday, another friend is transitioning her mom to a nursing home as another is grieving the loss of her sister. My life is touched and affected by the lives of my loved ones. But OH, how beautiful is the peace of God that rules and reigns in my heart. The circumstances of life are always changing but He remains the same and is the anchor of my soul.

Some of you may recognize the confessional in the photo. I visited Holy Rosary Church in Woodland during my visit and took photos of my childhood sanctuary. There are many memories that come to mind when I think of the quietude, the scent of incense, the coolness from the summer heat and yes, the feeling of God's holiness and presence that was so mysterious. Week after week I seemed to confess the same childhood sins. You know, "I fought with my brother and sisters. I disobeyed my parents. I told a lie." One friend went so far as to confess that she did too much kissing. I was never that honest.

I'm smiling. Why? Because though my sins be many and scarlet, Jesus has made them white as snow. I don't miss the guilt feelings that I carried in childhood. I'm glad I don't have to carry things in my heart for a whole week before talking to Jesus about them. I'm glad I can confess Him as my Lord and Savior. I wish I would have known that as a little girl. I would have marched right into that little booth and said, "Father, I confess that I love Jesus!!" I find that a much better approach.

Someone was just telling me that some young men set up a confessional at a university during some sort of party-hearty week. They had their first confessor. The penitent young man was quite surprised when the "priest" told him, "No, it is not you that will do the confessing. It is me." And then he proceeded to confess all the ways that Christians have failed their fellow man and asked forgiveness for any hurts that the Church may have wounded him with. Another better approach.

I have come to the end of a busy day and look forward to a good night's sleep. I was being cheeky today and told my friends that I have become like God in this way: He neither slumbers nor sleeps. This is one way that I don't want to be like God and I asked them to pray against the insomnia I often experience. Although, isn't it amazing how big and wise our thoughts can be in the middle of the night? Especially if you are delirious with a fever or are on morphine? (Can't say I've ever been on morphine but like Thelma told us, "I had amazing thoughts during the night but I can't recall what they were.") One friend found that if she went back to bed in the morning she could recall the thought that came during the night - kind of like going back up the stairs when you couldn't remember why you went down them.

On that note I say farewell for today. . .May you also have sweet dreams.