Yet another life lesson fell into my lap today--or rather, my inbox.
My confessor knows me better than I know myself sometimes. Remember back in April I wrote an entry wondering if my struggles in faith were prolonged by my own fear?
Well, his email was my entry verbatim as we reflected on the good that came from that rough season. I admit that I laughed when I read it. There are only some situations where I am truly an open book to people...and now it is coming back to bite me in ironic ways. Ha.
At the same time, I found myself a little sore that he didn't clue me in sooner. But as I chewed on it, there is something important that I can remember a dear friend saying to me years ago. He's been a Wiccan priest for almost two decades now and back when I was still seeking Him, he was my shoulder.
I can remember lashing out at J for taking a step back and telling me that I needed to work things out on my own for a time. I didn't get it, and was furious with him for well over a year.
But you know, I came out of that experience knowing myself better than I ever had previously. What's funnier is that by then I knew that I needed to go back to the Church. The day I told him, terrified and in tears before my first Confession, he was one of my first supporters. If I recall correctly, he told me it was about time.
Sometimes, the people that care the most about us are the ones who give us a kick in the ass and make us walk on our own rather than coddling.
And once again, while a little older and wiser now, I am still profoundly grateful for the lesson.
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