Maybe, if I were to be asked to lie back on a long couch next to a bespectacled shrink armed with a pad and pen, I might just open up and be honest with myself.  And then, with others.

Maybe there is a sense of betrayal deep underneath my many layers.  I don’t think so… but I cannot say for sure.  I did go to Confession and spent time in Adoration of Our Lord today, so maybe I’m a little “opened” right now.  Quick, someone throw some lemon wedges into my cilice!

But if I am evoking a good dose of angst these days, regarding some of the “off-the-cuff” stuff the Holy Father has said, I think I know from where it was germinated.  Ever since my firing from Rogers Sportsnet after tweeting in defense of marriage, it’s been one stark realization after another regarding the Catholic faith I dearly love. And some of those realizations have left me in near ruins.

The latest post from the blog The Sensible Bond sums up – to a large extent – how I’ve been feeling of late, with those feelings cast within the pale of a deep and abiding love for the Vicar of Christ, Pope Francis.

I love my pope.  And he troubles me.  He’s like the father who’s become the neighbourhood fave because he joins the other kids out for a little road hockey, but never seems to show up at the local arena to see his own son play.

It’s a tough job, feeding your own sheep while seeking the lost ones.  Or… is it?

HT Fr. Z