Reconciling Saturday

11 May

If there is to be reconciliation, first there must be truth.”
― Timothy B. Tyson, Blood Done Sign My Name: A True Story.
I believe in signs; those lucky pennies, found feathers, strange coincidences kinda signs. That’s what happened today, a series of strange events. This is a long one…so be prepared, or go get a cup of coffee.

After writing group this morning, and a leisurely lunch on the square with Mandy, I planned on going over to Art on the Veranda, visit with the shop owners, Dana and Judy, hang out all afternoon and paint on some wine glasses and vases until they closed. Then, I’d hang out and stay for Second Saturday. I had loaded up the car in the morning with all kinds of glassware and supplies. Or so I thought. When I went to my car to grab my stuff, NO glass paints or brushes. A zillion wine glasses and vases, but no paint. Can’t paint without paint and brushes. I’d left them at home. Dang! Not meant to be, best go home.

While I was driving home, I remembered that I’ve been wanting to go to church for Reconciliation (Confession in Catholic lingo) for a very long time, and they had Confession at 3:30 at St. Gabriel’s. Ah, this was meant to be. A sign? I’d never been to Confession there, so I scurried over, walked into the church and found it totally empty. OK, where’s the priest and those confessional phone booth boxes. (Can you tell it’s been a long time?) I was disappointed. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all. I walked around, tugged at a few locked doors and peeked down a dark hallway. Nothin’, nada, so I walked back towards my car.

From a distance, I saw a man hop in his car and start to drive away. I flagged him down and asked if he knew where Reconciliation was. Huh! He gave me directions, and It was down that long dark hallway that I’d seen. OK, to make a long story even longer, I found the small room marked reconciliation Room, talked to the priest behind the screen, and received my penance of five Our Fathers. Afterwards, I walked back down the hall and sat alone with my thoughts in the empty church.


Now, here comes the good part. I came home feeling a little better, like I accomplished something on my spiritual bucket list. Even though it was 91 degrees out, I put on my gym shoes and started on my customary long walk. Usually, my mind and thoughts are plagued with sad or angry thoughts during these long walks and runs, but now, I said to myself, “Oh yah, I forgot to say my five Our Fathers.”

Did you know that it is absolutely impossible to be angry, dark, sad, or gloomy while you are mumbling the same prayer over and over and over? After about one mile into my journey and Zen-like prayers, I found a lucky penny on the street. Another sign! Exactly 109 Our Fathers later, I finished my evening walk. The only wavering of complete concentration during this mantra happened a few times during the part, “and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…” I thought to myself, “Na, I don’t think so!” Then I continued.

All in all, a very interesting day of reconciliation and signs. And like the quote says, "first there must be truth." Another thing on my bucket list.


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