“He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.’” (John 20:22–23)

For those of us who go to confession regularly, there is often a familiar frustration: “Why do I keep confessing the same sins?” It can feel like a loop, cleansed but unchanged.

Not long after my brother’s first child was born, a beautiful little girl named Mary Elise, I asked him what it was like. Was he nervous? Overwhelmed? He said, “When I first held her, I was in such shock. I think I just said, ‘I am your dad. I am your dad.’” That moment marked a deep transformation for him. He was not just holding a baby; he was stepping into a new identity.

In my family, we can hardly speak about orphans without tears. My father was adopted as a baby. He frequently told us stories of how his parents welcomed him not just into their home but into their hearts. It was never merely a relocation or a legal transaction. It was the joy of being chosen, of receiving a family, a name, and a place where he belonged forever. Even in his later years, recalling that gift still moves him to tears of tender gratitude.

We generally approach life with the question, “What can this do for me?” We try a new workout, a low-carb diet, intermittent fasting, or a new career path, hoping it will make us healthier, stronger, happier. The assumption is that if I invest in this, I’ll eventually reap some benefit, or I won’t do it.