Confession

Erica talks about a confession of sorts:

"My questions were along the lines of a Confession; it was a list of lots of the dumb things I had done and questions about them. So after vespers, the group (6 people) sat around the table, and Sarah very politely asked “Should we exit stage-right?” She was ready to excuse herself and the rest of the group to go off and finish the few after-vespers tasks. “No, stay; these are good questions you should hear the answers to.” Fr. responded. was just about the ask that they go, but Sarah’s glance caught my eye and I shut my mouth. I was extremely uncomfortable for about the first 5 minutes, but then I gave up and stopped being embarrassed. I mean, I stopped being embarrassed of it: the questions, the people hearing them, the stupid things I had done. It was really shocking to realize that as far as sins go, I’ve done ‘um, and so have they, and no one is going to judge me; worse yet, most are obvious to the people who know me, and are of no shock to them anyway. I’ll admit, I thought I would die for about five minutes, but after a moment, it was as if I had permission to ask questions and not really care what anyone thought."

WOW! I wish I was at the point where I didn't care what people thought. Or where Confession was easy for me. I'm always afraid of Confession. And because I don't keep a written list of my daily sins and am usually nervous when I am standing in front of the Gospel Book and the Cross I sometimes forget to say this or that small sin. I hate it. I wish I was like the dying monk I read about in Father Arseny. His confession and self-accusation was described so beautifully. My Confession is always trembling, halting, and torturous.