Confession at my back up church was interesting this week. Once a month a couple with 5 kids comes and the whole family confesses. They were in line and so were several other people when I got to church at 4:15. The line was so long it went almost to the front door. On one hand it was beautiful seeing all those people taking advantage of the sacrament but on the other I was miserable because I thought Father Aragorn would never be able to hear us all before Mass started at 5. When I finally made it in Father told me frankly that he was pressed for time and he needed me to be concise. I'm not concise. Heck I'm a Southern woman. Concise is just not my nature unless I'm angry but I spat out a confession as best I could and got out.
The three other people behind me also made it in and then Father Aragorn ran for the sacristy in order to get vested and start Mass. Rocky was impressed that Father could move so fast and speculated that he must have been a left tackle in high school. The confessional at St. Burb's is hotter than a sauna in East Purgatory and he had to have been in there for more than an hour so I'm impressed that he could move at all.