My Soul is Like a Laundry Hamper

As I sit down and write this, the washing machine hums quietly and contentedly as if it knows that it is on its last load for the day. For two days, actually. Yesterday, it ran nonstop from mid-morning to well after supper.

The laundry situation did not have to reach crisis proportions. It started with a quarter-filled hamper that didn't look intimidating or urgent at all. I can do that tomorrow, said I. When tomorrow came, I said the same thing. I said the same thing for x consecutive days until I had no choice but to deal with the situation because we were running out of clothes to wear.

I should have bothered washing. That way, I could have ended each day with an empty/ nearly empty hamper, which is much easier to deal with than an overflowing hamper with some clothes already strewn about on the floor.

My soul is pretty much like my laundry hamper. The quarter-filled hamper is the soul with venial sins. I don't have to go to Confession now; I only have venial sins to confess. Then the venial sins pile up and with them, the laxity of the will. Before I know it, there is a mortal sin (or two) that needs to be atoned for, confessed, and and do rectifying for. Sounds easy, but it is not because my will has gone lax from piled up venial sins.

So I seek the Sacrament of Confession -- perhaps grudgingly and reluctantly at first, but hopefully, happily and frequently thereafter -- because I know that that is the only way I can make it right with my God. I need the Sacrament to give me hope and determination to begin again and again and yet again, and the perseverance to plod on in the midst of temptations in the world and the dry moments of my soul.

Thank you for this realization, Lord. Thank you for this moment of grace.

This was originally written for Moments of Grace, a Friday linking activity at Jenny's Suscipio. She now blogs at The Littlest Way.

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