We used to have this church that had what they called Confess Yourself Wednesdays. This was a time when the preacher urged everybody to stand before the congregation and open up with all they were doing that was a sin. Everybody thought these services were a big success because of the large crowds that were drawn in, bigger than on Sundays. I reckon they had this confession feature for at least ten years. I once heard a woman from that church say Wednesday evenings were better than a party line and you could find out a wealth of information in the space of two or three hours. Unfortunately, or maybe I should say fortunately, these service came to an abrupt halt about a year ago when Wadsworth Poole made a confession to beat all confessions and sent several women running from the meeting. The preacher was heard to say, " Damn, boy, I don't believe I would have told that one." The church called a special meeting and decided it was best for Waddy (that's what we all call Wadsworth) and the preacher to find a new worship home. Waddy for his unusual and bizarre sin and the preacher for cussing in the church house.
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