Protestant Confession

I was going to blog about this falling-down-barn I have driven by for years in my work as a travel-round-the-county physical therapist.  Every time I'd see it slightly more askew I would think "I should take a picture of that barn."  Today I remembered I'd be driving by it on my way to Colfax, Illinois (yes, a real town) and so I took my camera.  Alas this is what was left today:

Not much barn but still a pretty interesting photo I thought.  Here's a closer view:

Just to the west of the site of the former falling-down-barn is a soon-to-be-falling-down-house.  I was amazed that the turquoise trim is still turquoise while the rest of the wood is so worn.

I don't know why I'm fascinated by things (usually barns) that are falling down, but I am. 

But I decided not to dwell on that.  I also decided not to dwell on Sisi's rock-playing-skunk t-shirt design though I will show you the picture.  The ISAT is the standardized tests the kids are forced to take every year from 3rd to 5th grade in Illinois.  The school had a Rock The ISAT theme to get the kids fired up so they would not feel left behind.  So the school would remain funded, I mean.  Our school has over 50% of it's kids living below the poverty line and yet so far each year we manage to pass whatever standards are required...so I guess we are Rocking It!

No, what I'm going to dwell on today is how my pastor (at least one of them) gives good confession.  For example, today I was snotty in an email to someone who drives me absolutely crazy and this pastor knows all about it.  I texted her and said "I'm going to hell for sure."  Texts flew back and forth, I confessed to the email which I was clever enough to copy her on so she could see whether I am indeed going to hell for it.  (Ok, do you get it that I don't quite believe in hell yet?  I sure hope so.) 

She read the email and then absolved me with this text back:

Ha!  I don't even have to recite any Hail Marys or Our Fathers.  Good thing since we're Protestants!