So sometimes I seriously wonder why I even go to church, much less try to read various books, pray regularly, etc... I don't feel particularly connected and often as not various things are uncomfortable for me. For instance, it's always something of a struggle to get to confession, even though I know it's not going to be horrible- indeed the priests seem to be going out of their way to make it easy nowadays. They are just glad people are trying.
But despite the emotional response generally keeping me away, I found myself going when I realized the last time I could remember going was a year ago. I should do it more often, sure, but the Church mandates we go at least once a year. And it was a good thing for me to do.
But I sort of digress, because this was the comfort:
Brothers and sisters:
When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son,
born of a woman, born under the law,
to ransom those under the law,
so that we might receive adoption as sons.
As proof that you are sons,
God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts,
crying out, “Abba, Father!”
So you are no longer a slave but a son,
and if a son then also an heir, through God.
I suppose I tend to get into a mentality where I look at this backwards, crying out, struggle to be a son, when in fact I am crying out and struggling because I am a son. So I continue on, same struggle, less worry.