I can always tell when it's time for Confession. Everything starts to annoy me, from the colors of the world around me to the smallest thing said by my preschooler. I'll find myself wondering what I thought was so great about, oh, anything really. The true litmus test is when I start getting annoyed with my husband, who isn't just nicknamed Prince Charming for his good looks but is, in fact, a charming and easygoing guy.
Lately, I've noticed that when I ask Mary for help, she is good for it. When I recently asked my Heavenly Mother for guidance, for a pointer to what I should improve, it became clear to me that Confession was what I was supposed to focus on.
Needless to say, I procrastinated. I made excuses. I got reeeaaaallll busy.
But there was no avoiding it.
But wasn't just a call to Confession. It was a call to frequent Confession. Going once wasn't going to get Mom off my back.
Lent is a great time to start a new habit, but I often find (when will I learn?) that God has a plan for me that's slightly different than the plan I have for myself. I've been talking to Mary more of late, asking for her advice and guidance and, most of all, her prayers. It's no surprise, but it's still a pleasant experience, that she leads me, time and again, back to a closer relationship with the sacraments. My new fervor for the sacrament of Confession (or Reconciliation or Penance...whatever you want to call it) has done good things for my life, and not just my prayer life (though that too).
When I'm paying attention to myself through the lens of frequent Confession, I can honestly strive to be more like Mary...because I'm trying to sin less, to grow closer to her Son, to act more in accord with how God wants me to act. Confession opens me to the graces of the other sacraments that are a part of my life, including my marriage and the Eucharist.
If it's been a while since you've been to Confession, why not consider praying a rosary for the grace to go? Mary's just waiting for you to ask for her help. She's right over there, past your elbow, eagerly waiting for you to tap into her experience and knowledge. Isn't that what a mother's for?