Catholic by Birth, Questioning by Experience
“I was nine years old, dressed in white lace and trembling inside. I had rehearsed my sins for confession like lines in a school play, small, harmless ones. But then the priest asked me about something no one had ever dared ask before. Something I hadn’t even told my mother. I said ‘no.’ And walked out wondering if I had just lied to God. I took Holy Communion anyway, convinced I was headed straight for hell.”
