After Confession: The Gift

By Christopher Ziegler
Poet Christopher Ziegler can be found @CZWriting on Twitter

My mind had fallen

In a muddy rut of sin.

I did not know

How it had happened,

Or where I had tripped the snare

That snagged me.

I was lost.

Delusions and temptations

Were closing in all around

While grace seemed to be slipping

Further, further away.

So I went to confession

And spilled my lapses without guile.

At once I felt a weight was lifted.

The clouds cleared my mind

And I beheld the start of my rut.

I remembered the precise thought

That had swapped God’s will

With my own judgement.

The very thing I chastise others for doing,

I myself had done—

I had indulged the pride of life.

As if to mock God,

My foe had tricked me into hypocrisy.

I am too easily deceived

By that foul cunning.

I must keep my heart meek

At all times and in all questions.

The instant I raise my heart on high,

Gentleness and patience vanish

And I fall prey to my weakness.

God knows best, and I—nothing.

But He gives forgiveness,

And, in confession,

The gift of knowledge.

Would you like to read more about the Sacrament of Confession? Twilight's Confession