Smorgasbord #28
Squeaky clean souls, small talk & zapatos
Hello friends! This is Smorgasbord, a self-service buffet of ideas—the four-piece chicken nuggets of newsletters. To those who recently subscribed, welcome; it’s good to have you. To the loyal ten who like and comment, hi! And big hugs to my lurkers who dutifully read everything I publish.
Phoenix recorded its first three-digit temperature day of 2024; for those outside the US, 100 F = 38 C. So, I guess you could say things are getting pretty serious in the Southwest. But don’t worry, I have some fresh ideas for starting your weekend. Let’s get started.
First Reconciliation
My oldest son, Oliver, received his first reconciliation a week ago. I accompanied him to the Church, and he was nervous about it. I tried to calm his nerves as much as possible, but he kept fidgeting. He was worried he wouldn’t get to go into the confessional, but thanks be to God, his group was the only one going into the confessional and not to the priest in the main Church.
It was a very special moment when he came out of confession and told me his penance was one “Our Father” and that he couldn’t remember the prayer. So, we prayed his penance together, said a small prayer of thanksgiving, and went out to the narthex.
He had the biggest smile on his face. “I feel so light! I can’t stop smiling,” were the first words he said as we walked outside the Church. It was such a proud dad moment. Afterward, I took him to Dave & Buster’s to have dinner and play some arcade games to celebrate. On the ride there, he kept gushing about how awesome it was to have his soul squeaky clean. I told him, “You know how daddy sometimes yells at you and your siblings and has very little patience, but then I go to confession, come back home, and can be more patient with all of you? Well, that’s the grace of God in action.” His eyes opened as he said, “Wow, the grace of God is powerful!”
The following day, it was my turn to go to confession, and I told Oliver about it. He asked if he was coming with me, and I said he had just gone yesterday. To which he replied, “I was mean to my brother.” I was flabbergasted. I asked him if he had apologized to his brother and whether he thought this was a venial or a mortal sin. We settled on him making peace with his brother and trying not to be mean to him again.
He won’t receive his first communion and confirmation until next year, yet he is adamant that he wants to go regularly to confession to keep his soul clean. I can’t stop being excited for him and what God may do in his life. Eight-year-old me didn’t understand the sacrament like my son does because nobody explained it to me or showed me its importance.
Thank you for indulging my humble brag. My son, as much as we are at odds sometimes, is a terrific kid, and I’m very thankful for being the one, together with
, leading him to God. I can’t wait to see what God has in store for him.Small Talk
I had to go into the office because a vendor would do a “lunch and learn” for my team. The meeting went by quickly, and someone brought sandwiches, chips, and cookies into the room. But as we all know, there is no such thing as a free lunch. There wasn’t one but five different people from this particular vendor who came to this meeting, and they all wanted to chat.
It had been a while since I had to make small talk at the workplace. I guess this is a downside of working from home for so long. I was definitely rusty. First, I talked to a lady who said she was from Michigan but had a thick Russian accent. I remembered someone using the Mitten method to tell another Michigander where they were in the state, so I asked her where in the Mitten she lived. She was impressed with my geography skills. Then, she admitted she came to the US when she was sixteen. I always think it’s funny how someone who has lived in the US for a long time still has a foreign accent; maybe it’s just me.
I engaged in conversation with two gentlemen. One was fond of whiskey, so that worked out fine, and the other is local to Arizona, so we discussed coffee shops, breweries, and restaurants—easy peasy.
I legitimately felt drained after that meeting. I used to think that spending time with other people energized me, but maybe this is not the case anymore. Have you experienced something similar? Am I becoming an introvert? A curmudgeon? Only time will tell.
Bitesize
I’m reading “Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart” by Father Jacques Philippe. I may do a book club series of posts for this book.
I wrote Who do you say that I am? a brief essay on Christology.
I thought How to Keep From Converting to Catholicism in Five Easy Steps was a clever and funny piece by Rachel over at
.I found this video of Parisians Trying to Pronounce Words in English hilarious.
IV
This week’s Spanish lesson is “Zapatero, a tus zapatos.”
Literal translation: Shoemaker, to your shoes.
Meaning: It can be translated as: cobbler, stick to your last. Something you’d tell someone who’s talking about a topic they don’t have expertise in. A kind of mind your own business.
Example: Please stop talking about politics. Zapatero, a tus zapatos.
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Sobremesa
How often do you go to confession?
Does small talk come naturally to you, or does it require effort?
Are you doing anything fun this weekend?
I'm sorry you struggle with scrupulosity. I was on the fence about adding that question and I should've not included it. If you think about it, one of the precepts of the Church is to make ONE good confession a year during Lent. That's the bare minimum. But hopefully everyone approaches the Lord's Mercy as often as they deem necessary.
I try to go to confession monthly just to keep myself in check