Confessing Your Heart

The associate priest at my parish dispenses the sacrament of Reconciliation, or better known as confession every second Saturday. He’s been pastoring at my parish for almost three years, normally it’s two years for the new priests, but sometimes they stay longer like three or four years. I was taught that it’s good to have a regular confessor to regularly hear your sins so the priest might be able to see certain paths that cause you to commit a particular sin. So when I go to confession, I make sure it’s the week that Fr. Bryan is celebrating Mass, which means he will be in the confessional from 4 p.m. to 4:45 p.m., Saturday afternoon.

Becoming acquainted with the language of your heart should be easy…right? Is riding a bicycle easy the first few times, not usually. I am trying to learn the ways of the heart, accepting what is in front of me and go! But sometimes I am left still watching everyone in front of me. Still trying to copy what they do, still not getting that the journey I am on is different. I might be similar, or have something in common with others.

Sometimes I don’t want to know what my heart or what the Lord wants of me. Inside of me, something is not right. Fear has leaked in, mixing in with peace and love. The tips of my toes wobble back and forth as something is played out in my mind. Am I ready to run or am I steady with courage?

What stops me from running the race?

Not knowing the end result even though it’s the depth of the journey that matters the most. In many ways, the destination doesn’t exist outside of a place to rest in His plan. Sometimes, it’s the running that makes me aware that I can talk about, and that I need to talk about why I keep my heart in seclusion. The language of your heart wants to live out loud, not in darkness or in anger.

I kneel on the one side of the grille, and the priest is on the other side. Most won’t look at you, but once I have listed the sins I remember committing, I will pick a ‘sin’ to discuss. There is no life, no fresh air in what I talk about. I am held back by doubts, fears, unknowns, and other people’s judgments on themselves. Maybe it is a judgment on myself, but the other is more likely acting something out that was planted in their life, long before you enter into it. Yes, I need to take responsibility for what is my part, but I also must let go, of my anger to see my part, my place in what is called this present time.

There is no man on the other side of your heart but Jesus. In the secret places of our heart, we render to what is God’s. Nothing that I take is forever. I may stash away what I believe are parts of my heart, but nothing physically can claim the language that takes an area in the place that is only hinted at.

But what if you speak and no one hears you… I mean really hears your heart

Do it anyway. It’s like a dialect with different clicks, nuances, and tones. Keep speaking it until someone, a small group of intelligent individuals nods their heads in appreciation.



Hearer of the Heart


He knows  this place better than I do. I am fearful of truly knowing what’s in my heart…why? I’ve convinced myself that what my heart says and holds isn’t really what I want. Kind of crazy. If He’s in my heart there is no reason to fear. But I’ve had years to stock up the lies that are louder than the whispers coming from my heart. You have heard the cries, and  you know my heart so much better than I do.

Blessed is she, who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises. Luke ~1:45

Instead of letting the worry or anxiety fill up inside of your head, and crowd out the goodness that does exist. I have forgotten that He is my heart that each time it beats, it is a reminder. Does your heart burn with yearning when you are doing the exact opposite of where you want the direction of your life to go?

Keeper of my Heart

If I was left to my own devices, I would have a heart that would be smashed to pieces. I am not kind or gentle with this place where He abides. For if I was to push away all that I determined wasn’t good, I would never know His mercy. He makes sure that I am aware of what he wants for me, and He is teaching me to savour the moments when He makes himself known with his love swelling inside of me. The image that appears in my mind, is one of a volcano, and the lava spilling out is his love. Something as simple as cleaning a toilet, but staying in that moment, we are we able to visit and treasure one another. Remembering to stay close to him as we journey through the morning to mid-day, then the afternoon, which rolls into the evening. We can always be attentive and accepting of his desire teeming inside of us, or we can ignore this grace that He offers us.

When we are blessed with the knowledge of where he resides , we are blessed in fact by His constant vigil. Never does he leaves us, his nearby presence is not there to bother us but to assure us of His everlasting love for his children.

Not many of us are passionate about what we love or what we do. Were all too busy trying to get things done, to be bothered with being passionate about our lives, and in turn serving others through this passion.

For me, life is Christ.  Philippians~1:21

Giving up could be an option, but there are already too many things that have been left aside in favour of something much sweeter.

This mystery of Christ which lives in us has us wandering not knowing exactly where we are headed, except that we know He tugs at our heart, and it is He who is leading us down this path called life.




Jesus Rides a Green Bicycle




Hearing God’s voice is not like learning how to ride a bicycle, though to hear it sometimes you need to get back on in order to hear him speak to you.


There are many things that I have no problem doing alone, but in the last few years I have been finding out there are some things that I don’t want or like doing alone.

Riding a bicycle is one of them

When I first moved out on my own, I lived in an area that offers a lot of green space that is great area for walking, biking, running, boating in the summer, and in the winter, sledding and skating. I hesitate at suggesting you could fish because usually the fish don’t look too appetizing once they’re caught.

Initially, I bought the bicycle because I thought I had heard the Lord tell me to buy one. I wanted to be obedient to what I was hearing, but I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t rode a bicycle since I was 14 when I had broken my tail bone, but I wanted to try because I thought I heard him. I figure I had nothing to lose.

It’s all in the hearing the Lord, and how exactly do I do that? Well, a lot can be gleaned from His character. I know certain things about him, and so that allows me to have a good idea if it is him. Normally, I hear the Lord through a mixture of scripture reading, listening to that small still voice and journaling. Now, I can hear him through other ways, but he’s faithful to how he speaks to me.

First of all, I want to be up front

For any of you who have read this blog for any length of time, you will know that over five years ago, the Lord began tweaking my ability to sense Him. I used to be able to discern His answers (sometimes) in how I felt, but He changed things up because He doesn’t want you or me to stay where we are. It’s a good thing if you’re gung ho for change, but most of us aren’t, and we complain all the way there.

Most of us, and I am including myself in this group, deny that we hear anything that could be God. Yes, we’ll make mistakes, but the one thing I have learnt is He is faithful in how he speaks to us.

Being Open to Change

Lately, he speaks and it’s like a river that is running through me, it’s not a voice, but I am standing on dry ground and in it I can see a watery reflection of me. He’s taking me in deeper, and in it, I am ‘seeing’ and ‘hearing’ his silence and solitude, which is paving a way for me to ponder and reflect His invisible presence in me. For in him, we live and move and have our being. Acts~17:28.

I did ride a bicycle for a time, but I always got the feeling someone was right behind me and this bugged me. Whoever it was could just pass me. I would stop and look behind me, and there was no one, zip, nada, zero…This happen on more than one occasion, so I stopped taking going for a bike ride and for other reasons. It turns out someone was riding their bicycle behind me – it was Him.