I long to see your face, O Lord. // Responsorial Psalm 27:8b
As I was finding my place in the confessional line the weekend before Holy Week, I was comforted by the solidarity of those waiting with me in line. Typically, I would have berated myself for not attempting to have gone to Confession at least three times during Lent because three sounds like a full commitment and holier than just going once.
The sacristans were preparing the church for Palm Sunday. While I tried to focus on my examination of conscience, I couldn’t help but notice the red drapes hanging from the door frames that lead into the sacristy. The sacristans kept working the fabric over and over again. As they continued to work the song “Wait for the Lord” was playing in the background.
Normally I would welcome these sights and sounds, but I needed silence.
As the song intensified, I began to feel agitated. I didn’t want to listen to the song anymore; I didn’t want to be immersed in the external environment of Palm Sunday—and if I’m being honest—I just wanted to go straight to Easter.
“I long to see your face, O Lord” (Responsorial Psalm 27:8b).
As the song kept playing, I felt this longing to receive forgiveness, to be absolved, and for this weight that I was carrying to be lifted at once. I so badly wanted to leap to the front of the line, but I had just let my mom go in front of me because I know how tiring standing can be for her.
Each minute waiting in line felt even more burdensome.
Finally, it was my turn. I don’t think I could muster more than two sentences to the priest before the tears came.
I longed for the Lord in the Sacrament of Confession, and He looked at me with the most tender eyes of mercy and the warmest smile through this priestly father.
Sister, our longing is for Him and is from Him. It is a gift and a cross. The sacraments keep us close to Jesus. Can you create space in your daily routine to come close to Him?
Our longing is for Him. // Mytae Carrasco WallaceClick to tweet