I so wish I had the physical stamina to drive to the parish, to stand and wait in line (sitting would be worse pain than standing), and to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation. (Confession, in our typical word usage for this holy sacrament.) I can call and ask for an appointment, but that also requires my stamina to get there; and at some point I will do this. I must have faith that the Lord will give me the physical strength and pain tolerance.
If I were fully bed-bound, I'm sure the priest would make time out of an incredibly busy schedule, and would come here, probably needing to bring a volunteer with him. Such are the trials of contemporary times and the terrible residue for the bulk of holy priests, to need protection from any potential claims, accusations, or scandal.
Thus all the more I ponder the hermits over the centuries--those hermits who I admire so much for their living the ideal of hiddenness, of remaining in the silence of solitude as they dedicated their lives to the praise of God and for the salvation of the world. That they lived out a silent preaching of the Lord Jesus Christ is an added inspiration and joy to contemplate and strive to do likewise even if poorly so.
In the meantime, in the midst of the mostly remaining on the icy pad on the bed, I certainly do a horribly impressive job of sinning--mostly in my attitude and thoughts. Or, perhaps more I am tempted to the sins in thought and attitude, for by the mercy of God, and those on the other side who are constantly rooting for me to persevere to a natural end of my life here on earth, I do not let the thoughts take root or produce rotten fruit.
I must rely on confession here with God alone, in my comfortable if much larger than what I personally need, hermitage. Solus Deus is an apt name, and it will remain the name of whatever hermitage if others after this one. Two decades ago I refinished a 19th century shudder from a house that had been razed in my hometown; In Old English script I painted "Solus Deus" on the shudder and hung it on exterior by the front door.
Although that house, that hermitage, I called "The Anchorage" of which the name was scripted in gilt on the fascia above the front steps to the porch, Solus Deus had become a meaningful phrase of which I've held onto over the intervening years. I had refurbished that house with each room meaningful in religious ways and intent, and had the idea to develop a Catholic Bed and Breakfast. But temporal life circumstances and prayerful guidance of the Holy Spirit called me to selling and moving on at a time when my late mother needed my daily attention and presence in a nursing facility.
Upkeep of the gardens and the Lord beckoning me to another parish in nearby city, cinched the relocating. Of course, a major spiritual assignment regarding a most unhealthy priest, awaited me--of sorrowful memory. The Lord knows me well; I'd not have gone had I known of what He wanted of me; Jeremiah and Ninevah are my mates in such assignments. Enough of past meanderings.
Forgiveness of sins and the desire for sacramental confession, are the present moment considerations. I've written some of this aspect previously. That is, forgiveness is of and from God, even though we humans are instructed by Christ to forgive others. We are to forgive those we love; and we are to forgive those we struggle to love, and especially, we are to forgive those who do not love us who come under this most-sad category: our enemies.
At some phases of my life past, I (and many others have made this distinction, as well) recognized that there is a thin line we can grasp, and that is the situation in which people do not apologize, say they are sorry, have any noticeable remorse, continue to sin, nor ask God or us for forgiveness. We also can hang on to the emotional aspect or "out" that while we might forgive someone their sins and wrong doings, we can continue to not forget.
Now, we might tell ourselves that what others have done are so terrible that it is not possible to forget, and thus we give ourselves permission to remove ourselves from them physically or more so, we distance ourselves, self-protectively, from them mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. While we tell ourselves--and others will give us prompt if not eager permission to do so, as well--that we can forgive but not forget, is this what God does with us?
Does God forgive us but not forget, and in not forgetting does he distance or remove Himself in any form or fashion? Does God say that while He forgives us, He cannot forget and thus cannot trust us, and thus not continue any type of relationship other than a memory of the wrong or hurt we did Him or others? Or does He comment that He will pray for us--but in the sense of essentially meaning we need His prayers because we aren't to be trusted or our sins, in fact, unforgettable?
I know God does not forgive with caveats. He forgives, and He forgets. He promises and provides a fresh slate, a new beginning, and continues His relationship with us fully, in all aspects of love and friendship with us in our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual beings.
And I realize He expects the same of us...or at least of me. I think of all of us, but I will keep this examination and example to my own temporal and spiritual example of my experiential existence.
This examination of forgiveness is sifting down to, focusing in on: hope in God, faith in God, and love in God in Himself and as He loves me and all others.
I am to learn to love as God loves and to forgive as God forgives. Love is amalgamated (as I've discovered already--love is intertwined with pain), also, with forgiveness. And part of forgiveness is actually, to forget the sins, the wrong doings.
Yes we can honestly submit that forgetting the wrongs of others or of ourselves (this latter a crucial consideration, as well) is quite difficult. It is so hard to forget especially the most painful of wrongs done to us or what we have done to others. We even say we can forgive but cannot forget what others have done. We can tell ourselves it is best to not forget what others have done, or what we ourselves have done, because we need to remember so as to not trust those who might sin again, hurt again. Or in the case of ourselves not forgetting our own past sins, we tell ourselves that we need to remember so that we will not repeat the offense.
But God not only forgives but also forgets our sins--and to a perfect point of never ceasing in His loving acceptance of and on-going relationship with our repentant souls.
And while it is difficult for us humans to know or not know if someone who has hurt us is truly repentant, that is ultimately for God to judge and to know with certainty or not. We will know by our own and others' "fruit", it said in Scripture, if they or we are Christians. But to not forget what others or ourselves have done wrong, after we have repented and received God's forgiveness--if not the other person's forgiveness--is to deny God's hope, faith, and love to be in us and to be our offering to others.
Not forgetting others' or our own sins and wrong doings is to hold a grudge. (A grudge is a resentment or ill feeling in the will that persists from a past sin, insult, or injury.) To hold onto these feelings and remembrances of past wrongs and sins keeps us from true freedom in our own ability to grow in hope, faith, and love of God, others, and self.
Forgiving and forgetting is necessary for healing and four our own temporal health and for our holy, spiritual progression. Forgetting is as possible as is hope, faith, and love. We have bought into that psychology-rendered, oft-repeated as if to make condoned truth--the notion that we can forgive but it is all right to not forget.
God forgives and forgets, and we if followers of Christ are to go and do likewise.
Furthermore, we are also "told" by others and ourselves in the world, that forgetting is very difficult if not impossible, and even that it there is a good in remembering, in not forgetting the bad, the sins, the wrongs against us or of which we have done ourselves.
These notions are not God's; they are not how the Holy Trinity does to us, not what Jesus teaches, not what Jesus and the saints express and purport of the importance of living in the present moment. To not forgive and to not forget, keeps us in the past.
We can tell ourselves that if we do not remember our sins or the sins of others, we will more likely repeat our errors or will be wounded again and again. The greater faith we have in the Holy Trinity, in God, in Jesus, in the Holy Spirit--the Three in One Who guides and counsels us and provides all for our nothingess, our holy Mother Mary in maternal protection and love, our guardian angels ever with us in this life--the more we will live a life of increasing holiness. The more faith, hope, and love of God, the greater will be our assurance of holiness over sin, God's mercy over woundedness. The more we are in God, our tendency or temptation to cling to others' and our own sins and resultant wounds no longer exists.
Forgiving and forgetting can seem most difficult--but in that it requires us to overcome ourselves and set aside our wounded selves--valid wounds, serious wounds. This can seem difficult, or to take much time to come to that point in which we can forgive others, and even more difficult and take longer to forget what wounded us and to forget even the scars of the wounds. But it is possible in God, for the asking. Perhaps what points out in ourselves if we have difficulty forgiving or especially difficulty in forgetting the wrongs done us or ourselves, is that we lack strength in: hope in God, faith in God, and love of God.
We also, in overcoming ourselves, must accept that we cannot overcome others' selves. We cannot expect others to forgive us, nor to also forget our sins, nor to want to remain in relationship or to progress onward with us in our temporal lives. We cannot expect others to be in the same degree of understanding or of hope, faith, and love of God. We cannot expect to dictate, judge, or control others' timing, or their desire or effort, or not, to forgive and forget. All we can do is pray without projecting onto others other than to desire God's love and providence in their lives always; and of ourselves, we pray for our conversions and deeper conversions in and of the Holy Trinity.
The remedy is to pray for God to increase our hope in Him, our faith in Him, and for an increase in our love of God in Himself and to be able to love as God loves. We ask God for more grace in these theological virtues, and to believe that we will be given what we ask, for this is God's will--that we live through, with, and in His hope, faith, and love now and for all eternity. We praise God with confidence that all we ask is of His will and providence, and indeed He will grant us all He good.
[On a personal note, I can only try these considerations and prayerful requests, of myself, on myself, in myself. At one point in my life I had committed a particularly terrible sin--knowingly wrong but so horribly deceived by the devil. And even after the deception, I knew all the more how terrible and so wanted out of the sin's grip, and I'd beg God to give me strength to remove myself from it's grip. But God had me suffer along in it--a sin that even Padre Pio had in a dream forewarned me in that He warned me of the "tricks of the devil" to come. It was only until the Lord determined the timing He willed, to infuse me with strength to remove myself from the sin's grip, was I able to extricate myself.
[I have remembered that time period and of that sin, and of not having any more visits in dream, vision, or locution from Padre Pio in the ensuing many years. I wonder if, in part, his cessation of mystical contact with me has to do with myself not forgetting the sin, not maybe fully forgiving myself as God forgave me. I so miss the consolation of Padre Pio's sensed friendship. Yet I have considered that I did not deserve his friendship for having ignored his warning; I always felt I so deeply disappointed Padre Pio as cause him to give up on me. Of course, this is not at all how God is, nor how Padre Pio would be in heaven, either. I will ponder praising God in all matters, and take St. Pio's written advice regarding confessed sins and repentance, and of praise due God, and if tears--tears of love of God for His mercy--only and always.]
The following expresses what St. Pio of Pietralcina--Padre Pio--wrote regarding confession, forgiveness, repentance, and faith in God's mercy upon us and others.
"Hope in God's everlasting mercy supports us in the tumult of passions and the flood of annoyances; it is with this confidence that we hasten to the sacrament of penance where the Lord is always there, waiting for us as a Father of mercy. In front of Him, of course, we are well aware of not deserving His forgiveness; but we may have no doubts as to His unlimited mercy. So let us forget our sins, as God has done with us, a long time before us.
"And we must not return, in thought or in confession, to sins already confessed in previous confessions. Because of our sincere repentance, God has already forgiven us once and for all. To want to go back over sins already pardoned only to be absolved from them again because we doubt we doubt whether they have been really and truly forgiven, isn't this a lack of faith in God's goodness?
"If it gives you comfort, you may think over the offenses you committed against God's justice, His wisdom, His mercy, but only to shed tears of repentance and love."
God bless His Real Presence in us!
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