Purifying Your Soul

Me and Prudie

We Are in the First Week of Lent

The season of Lent has begun — forty days set apart for fasting, prayer, and penance. It is a sacred invitation to examine the soul honestly and return to God with the whole heart.

Confessing Our Sins

Sin is a reality of daily life, and that is precisely why confession is not optional — it is essential. Going to confession every five to six weeks has become a spiritual discipline, but during Lent, the frequency increases, because the desire is to remain close to God and walk in His grace.

Daily Mass is a profound gift, and it does help cleanse the soul of venial sin. Venial sins are indeed forgiven by receiving Communion and by the other intercessory prayers of Mass. That said, the confessional remains irreplaceable. The regular confession of venial sins helps form the conscience, fight against evil tendencies, and allow Christ to heal and strengthen the soul for progress in the life of the Spirit. There is no such thing as a “free pass” into heaven — but there is a merciful Father who never tires of welcoming His children home.

My Pew

There is an unspoken rhythm to Sunday Mass. For those who attend faithfully every week, the same spot, the same kneeler, the same corner of sacred space becomes part of how the soul prepares to meet God. So when someone else is already sitting there, the disruption is real — and the irritation that follows is understandable.

Is it wrong to feel that way? Honestly — yes and no. There is nothing sinful about having a preference or a routine. The frustration becomes a problem only when it pulls the heart away from worship rather than toward it. The woman and her son are also God’s children, made in His image, present at Mass for reasons only God fully knows. Perhaps the boy on his phone needs someone to pray for him. Perhaps the mother is exhausted and this Mass is all she has left to hold onto.

The invitation here is not to abandon the routine — it is to let the irritation become a prayer. Offer it. Let God do something with it.

My Parking Spot

Moving to another pew is not quite as simple as it sounds. Mike drops off at the front of the church before parking in his usual spot — his assigned parking space, naturally. By the time he walks in, he knows exactly where to find his seat. A change of pew would require a change of coordinates for the whole operation. For now, the routine holds.

Offering It Up to God

This Lent, the resolution is to offer these small annoyances to the Lord. The irritation of a displaced seat, the distraction of a child on a phone — these are small things. And small things, surrendered to God with intention, become something beautiful. The spirit will no longer be broken by something as ordinary as a different face in the usual pew. Offer it. Let it go. Let it become a prayer.

The Sacrament of Penance

Why do Catholics confess their sins to a priest? The answer goes deeper than tradition or obligation — it goes straight to the nature of sin itself.

Sin is, before all else, an offense against God — a rupture of communion with Him. At the same time, it damages communion with the Church. For this reason, conversion entails both God’s forgiveness and reconciliation with the Church, expressed and accomplished liturgically through the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church makes clear what confession does for the soul on even the most human level:

“The confession (or disclosure) of sins, even from a simply human point of view, frees us and facilitates our reconciliation with others. Through such an admission man looks squarely at the sins he is guilty of, takes responsibility for them, and thereby opens himself again to God and to the communion of the Church in order to make a new future possible.” — CCC 1455

And for those who confess with honesty and a complete heart, the mercy of God is boundless: when Christ’s faithful strive to confess all the sins that they can remember, they undoubtedly place all of them before the divine mercy for pardon.

Indeed, the regular confession of venial sins helps form the conscience, fight against evil tendencies, and allow Christ to heal and strengthen the soul for progress in the life of the Spirit.

This is not a burden. It is a gift — one of the most merciful gifts Christ left His Church.

Two Confessions

During COVID, there were two back-to-back confessions — and the story behind them is worth telling.

It had been announced that one of the parish’s regular priests was being transferred to another parish. Because of COVID, confessions were held in the open area of the church, with room dividers standing in for the privacy of the confessional.

Having gone to confession the day prior with Priest A, the decision was made to return the following day — not primarily to confess sins, but to thank Priest B, the priest who was leaving. There was no other way to express that gratitude. Everyone was keeping their distance, and the room dividers created the only real opportunity for a private moment.

As the dividers were being arranged, a careful eye watched to determine which priest had gone behind which partition. Priest B appeared to be behind one of them. From the back of the church, the line formed quickly — and the wait began.

This was not a confession of sins. It was a confession of gratitude.

The Same Sin

When the moment finally came, the familiar prayer was offered: Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was yesterday. The room divider concealed the priest’s face — but not his voice. It was not Priest B. It was Priest A.

“You confessed these sins yesterday,” he said.

In a flash of panic, the reply came: “I know. I can’t get past them.”

It was a lie. Said in the confessional. To a priest.

Priest B was never found. The goodbye never happened. But the next morning, Mass came — and with it, Communion. And that small white lie, a venial sin born of embarrassment in the most sacred of spaces, was met with the mercy of Christ in the Eucharist.

The Pew Report

The numbers are sobering. According to Pew Research Center data, of self-identified Catholics, only 23% reported a sacramental confession at least once a year. Despite the Church’s requirement that Catholics go to confession at least once a year — with more frequent confession highly encouraged — polling has consistently shown that over half of U.S. Catholics go to confession either less than once a year or not at all.

This parish is a different story. The lines for confession speak for themselves. On the evening of February 23rd, with several priests hearing confessions, more than 100 souls came forward to receive the mercy of God in the Sacrament of Penance. That is not a statistic — that is a revival.

Finding Freedom

There is nothing more beautiful than walking out of the confessional absolved. The soul is purified. The mind is cleared. The weight that the Enemy had been carrying on behalf of the sinner is gone — and communion with Christ is restored.

So if you are Catholic: go to confession.

God already knows every failure. There is nothing hidden from Him — not one dark corner, not one shameful moment. But the Enemy knows them too, and he uses them differently. Where God offers mercy, the Enemy offers chains — whispering daily that the sin is too great, that it cannot be forgiven, that return is impossible.

It is a lie. Of those who go to confession regularly, about two-thirds report “a clear sense of forgiveness, reassurance of God’s mercy, and interior peace.” The God of the universe is not waiting to condemn — He is waiting to welcome.

This is what Lent is for: to look honestly within, to name what is there, and to purge the dust and shadows so that the soul can see the Son clearly once more.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, forgive the transgressions of Your children. Purify our souls and heal the deep wounds of our past sins. May we enter this Lent with full confidence in Your mercy and Your desire to restore us.

For those who have stayed away from the confessional, soften their hearts and free them. Remind them that You are not a judge waiting to condemn, but a Father running to meet them.

Free us all. Amen.

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The Valentine Bloom

Happy Saint  Valentine’s Day!

How many of us can remember getting our hearts broken? Honestly, it only happened to me once — and never by a boy when I was young. I learned my first lesson about a broken heart back in the third grade. I was alone in my pain, surrounded by too many brothers and sisters, and our mother was simply too busy to hear my sad little story. If I kept that memory in my memory bank all these years, it was for a reason — a life-learning reason. I am grateful to God for all of my childhood memories, because through the good and the bad, they have molded me into who I am today. And through it all, Jesus will always be my Valentine.

Love Story

My love story with Mike is the story of two people God brought together — forever. We are truly one. I see what he sees, and we love each other unconditionally. That will never change. We are examples to our family of how to face whatever the world throws your way and come out standing.

Now, we are both hotheads — and we do not always agree. But honestly, that is what keeps our marriage exciting. And when I am wrong, I apologize.

Attending Mass

Attending Mass every Sunday has brought Mike and me to a better understanding of how much we appreciate and welcome God in our lives. Over 54 years of marriage, we have both learned to place God first. It is never too late to grow closer to Him.

Slowly, I am coming to the realization that my opinion does not hold much weight compared to what God has in store for me.

I always look to God through all my misgivings in life, and I continually pray for His guidance. I want to become the woman God created me to be — and only through His special graces can I say, “Thank You for loving me, Lord.”

 

Flowers for Mary

Flowers

Flowers bring me great joy. Mike knows that my favorites are roses — so we have 43 rose bushes in our yard. Yes, I counted them.

Our home is always filled with flowers, and Mike makes sure of that. Almost every week, fresh flowers arrive. Last week it was tulips. This week, in honor of Valentine’s Day, carnations and roses.

And of course, I always share my flowers with the Blessed Mother Mary — making sure she, too, gets the honor of love.

 

 

Our friends
The family

Celebrating Love

I cannot recall how many years we have celebrated Valentine’s Day by going to dinner with friends — but this year we celebrated a day early. On St. Valentine’s Day itself, we had dinner with Russ, Sonja, and the boys.

The drive to dinner was hilarious. Their 16-year-old son Lucas decided to drive — and let’s just say he had three very vocal backseat drivers, all of them full of advice.

 

First grade photo because I couldn’t find  a 3rd grade one. (sadly, I’m  still sporting the same hairdo)

The following is a story of my first heartbreak.

The Valentine Card

She carefully sorted her Valentine cards, setting aside the one for her teacher. But there was one card unlike all the others — the one that read “Will you be my Valentine?” That card made her little heart patter with excitement. She was smitten by Joe, the smartest kid in her third-grade class. He was perfect in her eyes, and even his crowded front teeth made her smile.

No one in her family of eight knew that she had given her heart to Joe. How could they understand? Her four-year-old sister was too young to grasp such things. Her three brothers would tease her to the point of tears. And her two older sisters saw her as nothing more than a little child. The only person she could trust was her best friend Anita — petite, kind, and sweet — and only Anita knew just how much this little girl loved Joe.

The Big Day

It was Valentine’s Day — the day she would finally know if her true love would reciprocate. The bus ride to school seemed to take forever. All she could think about were the cards she and Joe would exchange. Her unspoken love was about to reach a new zenith, and that was a lot for an eight-year-old to carry.

When she walked into her classroom, she quietly took her seat toward the back of the room. They sat in alphabetical order, and as always, her seat was among the last ones. She wished her last name started with a P — like Joe’s — instead of a U.

All day long she waited. Through lunch. Through two recesses. Still waiting.

The art project that day was to make a holder for all the Valentine cards. She cut and pasted carefully — and the end product was perfect. Perfect for holding that one card from Joe.

The Broken Heart

Fifteen minutes before dismissal, the teacher announced it was time to exchange cards. The little girl’s eyes widened with excitement. She pulled out her brown bag full of Valentines, and you could hear the giggles as the children took turns handing them out.

Then it was Joe’s turn. As he made his way toward her, she put her head down. This was it. Now she would know how much he loved her.

The bell rang. It was time to go home. She held that one card tightly in her hand — and opened it. A kitten holding a heart. “You are sweet, Valentine.”

What? No. No. This was not happening.

She looked over at Anita. Anita was smiling — almost glowing. And there, in Anita’s petite little hands, was the very card she had set aside for Joe.

Joe loved Anita. Not her.

She wanted so badly to cry that it physically hurt — but she held herself together. The bus ride home was torture. And sitting right next to Anita made every mile worse.

Yes, this is my first memory of Valentine’s Day. I have no idea whatever became of Joe — but I remember that he broke my heart that day.

St. Valentine

St. Valentine of Rome is the patron saint of love, young people, happy marriages, beekeepers, and epilepsy. Emperor Claudius II had him thrown in prison for marrying couples and professing his faith in Jesus. While he was imprisoned, he healed a jailer’s daughter of her blindness. And on the very day of his execution, he left that girl a card — signed simply, “Your Valentine.”

 

St. Valentine

My Prayer

Dear Lord, bring all married couples into union with You. For those who are contemplating separation or divorce, heal their broken hearts and reconcile their differences. Amen.

 

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Free For The Asking: Godly Wisdom

King Solomon

“With age comes wisdom.”

This well-known saying is often associated with Oscar Wilde — and what a story his life tells. His writings first appeared in the late 19th century, and this gifted writer wrestled with Catholicism his entire life. His life may rightly be seen as a long and difficult conversion to the Roman Catholic Church. In his final moments, a priest was satisfied that Wilde freely desired reception into the Church — and he died a Catholic.

Thank God that some of us, in our later years, have grown in the wisdom of God.

My Wisdom

Believe me when I tell you — I am still in the process of shedding the things of the world that disrupt my walk with God. Social media is a perfect example. It pulls us into irrelevant issues and before we know it, we are judging others. There is nothing more irksome than getting caught up in that dark entrapment. I, for one, am working hard to rid my mind of it. The mindless scrolling was stealing time that belonged to prayer.

Prayer

Prayer is a central part of my life. The guilt and grief I used to beat myself up about — all those hours lost to social media — that is slowly coming to an end.

Praying has led me into another realm of wisdom entirely. I no longer get worked up about the problems of the world, or what our country is currently enduring. Through the wisdom of God, new spiritual portals of faith have opened up for me at a deeper level.

For example, many times when I am praying for a person or a serious concern, the Lord will give me a vision of the situation. And with that vision, I can go even deeper into prayer.

Peace

Yes, I still get all worked up about things — but I quickly come to my senses. It is almost as if the Lord is telling me, “Snap out of it!” And then something indescribable happens: peace comes over me like a warm blanket from heaven, covering all my cold thoughts about this world.

I can attest to the many times God has gently reminded me of some uncharitable act — and I either apologize or repent. I am undoubtedly a sinner. But I can picture the pearly gates ahead of me, and I want nothing more than to please God.

Growing With Wisdom

As you get older, wisdom should come naturally — but for some, it does not. The reason is simple: they fail to ask God for wisdom. Instead, they seek direction from outside worldly sources, and that path leads straight to idolatry. We can only serve one God. And when confusion rears its ugly shadow, it casts doubt and plays dirty mind games.

I know many well-meaning people who, because they lack godly wisdom, make foolish choices. What I cannot understand is this — wisdom is there for the asking. Yet so many lack the knowledge, or simply are not aware, of how much God wants us all to live full, wholesome lives.

 

King Solomon

Earlier this week, the reading at Mass was about how God bestowed wisdom on Solomon. This was no ordinary wisdom — it was supernatural. When God gave it to him, He entrusted Solomon with a remarkable gift.

1 Kings 3:7-12   New American Bible (Revised Edition)

 

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