I went to my first confession today (Reconciliation). I chose to sit face to face with the priest, a man with whom I've talked twice, mostly because I did not know what to do with the ornate confessional screen. I bumbled my way through, a fool on a fool's day. I managed to spit out intermittent, unconnected words that told a shameful story - one like yours, I suppose, only worse. And Christ took my story and he edited it, substantively. He made it beautiful again. He gave me perfect rhythm for shabby rhymes. He gave me new pages and told me to write new words.
You see, he believes in me still.
Today my sin and my shame were washed away, shame that was heavy, sins that accused. I woke to a day long anticipated: the first day of vacation, the beginning of the holidays, Christmas morning.
I know what you're thinking, and it's okay; I've thought it myself. But grant me this one thing, if you will: Rejoice with one who rejoices. Set aside your prejudice, your prejudgment, and rejoice with me. For I have found, at last, pardon and peace.