Mark it, Keebs.
I went to confession today.

Breathing in the divine architecture gave me a mind jolt so intense my eyes threatened to water. When everything's going too fast, when your body is so tired you can feel it giving up on you, when your brain cannot take in any more of the world, sometimes all it takes is a little conscious effort to talk to the Lord to get back on track.

Because what does is matter that you got all your duties done, made your superiors happy, perfected your tasks and streamlined your work, when your soul is waning and dimming and dying out?

There was light coming down from the roof, which felt so much like sunlight my insides were singing.

There was light emanating from within the frames of the images painted behind the altar. It gave an ethereal sheen to the scenes from the books, rendering them with a life force that pulsated with every steadily slowing breath I took.

My heart shivered as the line grew shorter. I realized, in a sudden flash, how horrible sin was, how incompatible it was with the Lord's plan for humanity, how utterly ungrateful any wayward thought was in the light of eternity. Sin is a waste of time. We must love each other (or die).

The battle ground is right here, little pilgrim.

We must be street saints, we must not be afraid of the truth.

For a very long time, bubba, I was. I was afraid that the challenge to delve into my faith might complicate my life, might make me realize certain truths that may oblige me to rearrange my life in such an irreparable manner people will think I've gone crazy.

The first chaplain I met at Lunday told me that for a truth to be un-change-able, it must agree with the mind.

And my truth is I've been wanting to give my life to service for a long time.

It scares people.
Who am I kidding? It scares (terrifies/mollifies/petrifies the hell out of) me.

But during those rare pockets of nirvana, you see things in a light that is unlike the way you were taught to deal with things in the real world.

At Stella Orientis, today, although the call had not come, (and how long I've waited for the call to come) the Lord has shared a tiny secret with me.

That over and above any feeling in the known universe, the phenomenon of being forgiven is still, undeniably, the greatest feeling on earth.

If I die tonight, (and one must not be afraid of thinking such thoughts, for everyday we face the possibility of that day being our last day on earth), I will die happy.

That, in a word (or two), is actual grace.