~Excerpt from EXPOSED: Inexcusable Me…Irreplaceable Him – ‘Confession Chapter’:
On the way home, instead of walking through the campus to the dorm, I walked along the main road on a path that led me to the university’s Catholic church. It was a very small, white house that served as the student center, and next to it was a one-story office building that served as the main chapel. Putting a hand up to the silver cross around my neck, I felt compelled to go into the chapel.
The lights were dimmed, a few people were scattered in the pews, and some stood against the back wall next to a closed
door.
Confession.
Those who were standing glanced at me when I entered and then went back to their own thoughts, staring at the floor and preparing to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation. As out of place and uncomfortable as I felt, I couldn’t get my feet to turn around.
“Stand in line,” demanded a gentle voice from within. I was torn between a desire to walk out and desperation to feel the peace that I knew confession could bring.
The confessional door opened, and a young woman walked out with an angelic smile on her face. She went to kneel in the pew, and the next person in line walked in and shut the door. I walked over and stood behind a young man in line.
“What time is confession over?” I whispered.
He looked at his watch. “We still have half an hour.”
I smiled my thanks and leaned against the wall, but I knew I would need more than half an hour. As the minutes passed, the nerves in my body flared and came alive. My vision of God with his arms folded as he stared down at me with an unpleasant look made the wait excruciating. It was obvious that God knew all of my sins, but voicing them out loud to a priest meant I had to acknowledge my actions.
The door opened, and the young man in front of me stepped in. I was next.
I waited in line as my thoughts ping-ponged across the chapel, pulling my will out the door and then throwing it back against the wall.
Finally, the door opened and the young man stepped out. As he passed me, he smiled. The door remained opened, beckoning me to enter, so I took a deep breath, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me.
It was surprising to find the priest sitting right there in a chair and not hidden behind a wall. When I was younger, the confessional was separated by a wall or partition so you couldn’t see the priest’s face. But there he was, sitting patiently in a seat, next to an empty chair. He turned slightly and motioned for me to sit.
Guided by some unseen force, I moved forward and sat down. The priest was young. He had a head of dark hair, brown-rimmed glasses, and, were it not for his priestly attire, he could have passed for a typical businessman.
“Hello,” he said with a smile. He had a purple stole around his neck and a Bible in his hand.
“Hi,” I managed to say.
“Do you have any questions before we begin?”
“I’ve never done this face to face before,” I said.
“Well, it’s normal to be nervous,” he said. “Try to look at this way. You are not speaking to me but to the Holy Spirit. Jesus Christ is with us, and he knows all that you are about to confess. Don’t talk to me, talk to him.”
I drew in a breath and let it go slowly. “OK.”
He made the sign of the cross, said a little prayer, and kissed the stole around his neck. Then he opened his Bible, flipped through the pages and settled on a page, breaking my resolve as he began to read:
Live by following the Spirit. Then you will not do what your sinful selves want. Our sinful selves want what is against the Spirit. . . . The wrongs the sinful self does are clear: being sexually unfaithful, not being pure, taking part in sexual sins . . . the Spirit gives love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control . . . ” (Galatians 5: 16-26 paraphrased.).
As he finished, I felt the ethereal world coinciding with my existence. Suddenly, I had the strength to face my own faults. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six years since my last confession.”
After confessing, I wiped my tear-stained cheeks and held my breath. This would be the moment, I thought, when God would unfold his arms, point a finger at me, and say in a loud, booming voice, “You are a fool! You should have been stronger!”
“I’m sorry,” the priest said.
I had averted eye contact with him for my entire confession, and, startled, I looked into his face. His eyes did not show pity but sorrow.
“No human should ever have to suffer through such violence. I’m sorry this was done to you,” he said.
I don’t remember what he said after that, but it didn’t matter. He listened to me. He believed me. At the same time, however, we discussed the part I played in it all.
We talked about not only asking for the grace to forgive Nick and Paul, but the mercy to forgive myself.
Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I was absolved of my sins. In an honest, heartfelt Act of Contrition, I told God that I was truly sorry for all that I had done and I promised to do everything in my power to move forward and leave the sin behind me. I walked out of the confessional, knelt before the Blessed Sacrament to offer my penance and began moving in the direction of a new path out of the valley.
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After sharing this story with the college students and answering many questions in regards to my life now and where God has brought me along this journey I received an overwhelming response of his beloved who have been battered and bruised by the world and just wanted to hear ‘I’m so sorry’. This is why I love the work God calls me too. I love to be a witness when He reveals Himself intimately to those who have been duped by the enemies lies of unworth.
The next day I was also given the gift to be a part of a relatively new conference called Faith & Trauma at the university. This was another gift to be able to tell my story and give witness to the importance of living a life as a survivor and overcoming the victim mentality, and share in discussion on what others that are bystanders to the atrocities of abuse can do to help those that have been abused.
While on campus I got the chance to revisit some places that mean the world to me:
The final gift of the visit was being able to stay with a friend that still lives in the area. She and I have only been Christmas Card friends up to this point allowing life with family and such move on, only occasionally doing a quick catch up. My being there offered us the chance to have hours to talk and reconnect, falling easily back into the friendship. It is nice to discuss what happened way back when and look on it now with more mature eyes.
Funny that before I left to do this trip I was apprehensive, unsure of what the triggers might be. Thankfully Christ has been my strength for some time and the Holy Spirit blessed the trip beyond measure. I look forward to going back and doing more!
Blessings
Shannon