It was a special day, a spiritual day, the passage from childhood into young adulthood. I was just shy of my thirteenth birthday and I was excited. For six months we had sat through boring classes memorizing the catechism, taking notes, trying to be good at God. After all, the closest thing I knew to God was my teacher, who happened to be my daddy. And I didn’t want to disappoint either God or Daddy! Yes, back then confirmation was a big deal. Nobody ever dreamed of missing a class. We memorized all 196 questions in the Shorter Catechism. And we were not allowed to take communion until we were officially confirmed.

The week before the Maundy Thursday Confirmation Service, my mom and I went shopping. She bought me my first pair of stockings, my first pair of heels, and yes, my very first (…