The harsh winter winds whipped through me with the might of something unholy. As I trudged through the snow, I apologized to God himself for letting myself be touched by something so disgusting and impure. The snow made my limbs hurt, my toes ache. I asked my Father for forgiveness, for wanting to give up. There was no response. Each step was harder and harder, and I understood I was being weighed down by my sins.
"O my God," I started, breath forming plumes of ice particles around me. "I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee," I continued, my voice breaking and falling into the snow with a sad 'whump'. "And I detest all my sins—" I added, hiccuping as I prayed.
As I opened my mouth to continue apologizing, the soft flutter of feathers and the harmony of doves cooing. A cote of doves plumed in the air, hooting happily. I stopped speaking, just for a moment, to watch them flutter by. For the first time since I'd started on this trek, I felt at peace. Like God was with me.
And he was, I knew it. He was telling me I was forgiven, wordlessly. I didn't need words to know he loved me, even when I wanted to give up.
YOU ARE READING
Catholic Guilt .
RandomI wrote this because I wanted to write on the topic of religion. I'm mostly just keeping my writing here for a memory.
