Finally, enough was enough. I knew we all needed something, so on a Monday I announced that we were going to Thursday's Advent Reconciliation Service.
Thursday came, and I didn't remember about the service until we were cleaning up after dinner. We had thirty minutes, and I all but threw every single member of my family into the minivan. We were going to confession if it killed us.
At the church, we found ourselves in Fr. Bob's line. I had never met this Fransiscan priest, but my parents knew him well. I also knew he was very spiritual so I figured he was what my family needed.
But as luck would have it, his was also the slowest line.
The line next to us, Fr. Tom's line, was moving along quite briskly. But not us. We shuffled, sighed, leaned against the wall, and considered jumping lines.
But we were meant to be in that line because we were meant to go to Fr. Bob.
One by one we entered that room and spent a few, quiet, soul searching minutes with this gentle soul.
And one by one we exited . . . spiritually whole again.
Once we were back in the van, before my husband even started the engine, everyone was hugging, and apologizing, and laughing, and crying, and rejoicing.
We went on to have a wonderful Advent season, and to this day I am grateful to Fr. Bob for showing us how to be a family again.
(Thanks to Laura over at Catholic Teacher Musings for hosting this tribute to honor Vocations Sunday.)