Confession

Dear Diary,

February 14, 2024

Confession – This is an open confession of how my Ash Wednesday / Valentine’s Day went.

So, like every other good child of God out there, I woke up today feeling all Lent-y and pious. Got my spiritual engine running with some Lauds from Sing the Hours, a quick meditation session with the “10 minutes with Jesus” App, and topped it off with my usual routine on the “Hallow” App – seriously, if you’re not on the App yet, you’re missing out big time.

PS: I was feeling so in tune with God, you could practically see a halo over my head. Though, to be fair, that’s kinda the norm for my mornings. But today? Today had a little extra oomph, like a spiritual boost or something. I was ready to conquer the day with my saintly vibes. I even made my list of Lenten fasts and what to abstain from. You’d think with all that holy energy, I’d be sin-proof today. Oh boy, I was wrong!

Off I went to Mass, and let me tell you, it was packed tighter than a can of sardines. Father decided to give out ashes first, so those who only came for the ashes could either hit the road or stick around for the real deal. Being the devout back-bencher that I am, I naturally hung back and ended up in the last batch of sinners shuffling up to get their foreheads dusted with repentance.

Now, in the churches in Europe, they make a proper cross with the ash on your head (not the ash mixed-with-oil/water paste we have in the English churches), so you end up looking like a walking reminder of your sins, like the people of Nineveh after Jonah couldn’t stop screaming, “In three days time, y’all will be destroyed”.

As luck would have it, the guys in front of me were both as bald as eggs, and when Father did the sign of the cross on them with ashes, it was like watching a live-action remake of Tom and Jerry. I swear, for a brief moment, I saw Tom’s face on one of their heads, and lost it. I couldn’t control my laughter as I tried to muffle it till tears started spilling from my eyes. Upon returning to my seat, I saw these men seated right in front of me and guess what?

My mind, in all its mischievous glory, couldn’t shake off the mental image of a cartoon cat and mouse sitting in the pew in front of me. I tried my darnedest to keep a straight face, but let me tell you, it was a struggle. But fear not, dear diary, once the mass proper started, I managed to regain composure. I put the cartoon shenanigans behind me and focused on repenting like a good Catholic.

That is until my feet led me to the confessional booth. So there I was, blurting out my laundry list of sins to Father like it was a speed round of “Name That Sin”. I confessed to wasting my time and meticulously helping others to waste their time. I confessed the sin of pride (because let’s face it, that Litany of Humility is just asking for trouble – if you listen to it every day, you will know you have to work triple hard to make heaven).

Then I confessed to how I had mentally knocked some sense into my flatmates more times than I care to admit in my head, and oh, let’s not forget the classic “I watched a bad movie but only the ‘good’ parts” excuse got me remorseful with the final, Father, my expert-level skill in being uncharitable is legendary – I spilled it all. Oh, I mean, who knew being a saint-in-training could be this hard? I sha cannot sugarcoat my mess to Jesus in the confessional?

After my confession, there was a bit of back-and-forth chit-chat with Father, and then came the golden moment: reciting the Act of Contrition. And let me tell you, Diary, nothing beats the feeling of relief that washes over me when I utter those magical words: “Oh my Jesus, because you are so good, I am very sorry that I have sinned against you…” It’s like a spiritual reset button.

And then, Father absolved me, and I couldn’t help it. My brain in its finest imagination just pictured the face of Jesus beside me doing yinmu that, Iwo ke! Mo fun e ni tiri hawaaas. Sha ma lo, moti forgive e, Omo mi eleshe (Jesus standing there beside me, giving me that bombastic side-eye look, like, Really? Toyo? Are you sure with the help of my grace, you will not sin again?)

And with that, I strutted out of the confessional feeling lighter than air, knowing fully well that I probably had about three hours tops before I found myself knee-deep in sin again. Ah, the joys of being a precious, priceless, sinful child of God. 🤣

Dear Jesus, you know this little thing you have created called Toyo. So, this evening, I ask you to please keep an eye on me that I may not see Tom and Jerry on bald people’s heads.🤲

So, there you have it, diary. My Ash Wednesday/Valentine’s Day extravaganza – filled with laughter, confession, and the eternal struggle between saintly aspirations and human shortcomings. Until next time, stay blessed and keep laughing. After all, it’s the best medicine for a sinful soul.

Yours in holy hilarity,

Olúwatóyọ̀sí, a forgiven, yet flawed, child of God.