By now, most of you know that I have been pursuing religious life…visiting communities and really doing research on the subject.
Let me start off by stating that this wasn’t something that just came out of left field and I agreed to overnight. I have been battling back and forth for quite a few years now with this, each time ignoring the call because I wanted to be married and have kids and that desire was so strong that I thought there was no way I could make it as a sister!
Ha!
God works in His time though.
Here is my story as of now. I know there are parts that I can’t remember right now…parts as in signs, that brought me to this conclusion, but when they do come, it’ll just further confirm my thoughts and feelings thus far.
I grew up Catholic. Raised in a Catholic family. My father never went to church…ever. He was in a world of his own dealing with alcoholism and drug addiction. Mom would bring us to church, but I don’t ever remember going regularly until around age 11 or so. My grandparents were very devout though, and we’d always go with them whenever we slept over their house. I used to love going to mass with my grandfather…even if I actually though the mass itself was so boring. Whenever we slept over my grandparents house, I remember being forced to “say my prayers” on my knees before we went to bed. I always found myself trying to figure out what to “pray”. I knew the traditional prayers: The Our Father, Hail Mary…etc. so when praying, that’s all I ever prayed…I never knew you could have a personal relationship with God…until my teens.
During my preteen years, life at home became a little more unstable for me. My father was kicked out of the house due to his excessive addictions and it was then that I really knew that he was an addict. The kick out of the house became his low point and he became clean and sober and eventually moved back in the house, but at that point my life as I had known it had already changed. I was bitter, angry, and very depressed. I didn’t know where to go, who to turn to, who to trust. I knew I couldn’t trust anyone in my family…I had been hurt too many times…especially from the one man who wasn’t supposed to hurt me…my father. I started turning towards various adults…mostly from school…to seek solace and comfort. All I wanted was love and attention, something I never received at home. And a few teachers at school gave me that. That nurturing is just what I needed. And growing up, I always wanted to be a teacher…this just further assured my career decision.
During my high school years, I continued to go to church weekly. I was preparing to make my Sacrament of Confirmation and during this time my church started up a youth group. The leader of the youth group was my confirmation teacher…who I just adored…so I figured I’d give it a shot. I got a bunch of my friends (who were all in confirmation prep too) and we ventured to this new territory called youth group. We didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t care. It got me out of the house and I was happy. I also, at that time, started teaching religious education classes for the younger kids. Before long, I found I was spending more and more time up at the church. It became my way of life. Just after graduating high school, I heard of this high school retreat held up in Massachusetts. I was too old to go, but we went anyway. The high school group, myself, and a couple adults. It was the most wild thing I had ever experienced. People were clapping, praising, shouting, dancing…totally on fire for God! It was awesome. For the next two years, we continued to bring the youth group to this retreat…and after every time, I came back energized and on fire. It was there I started hearing the whispers of God calling me.
At my church we have a convent, where a few sisters live. They work at the Catholic school that we have on property. It was during this time that I became close to one sister…Sister Irene. Most people didn’t like Sister Irene (those who had her as a teacher anyway) but I did. She reminded me a lot of one of my cousins…and she was fun and down to earth. We were having a casual conversation one day and she looked at me and said: “have you ever considered a vocation to the religious life?”
I laughed.
I explained to her that no I hadn’t…and was kinda taken aback that she would even ask me that question. I told her I wanted to have kids and a family. She told me to “think about it”.
And think about it I did. That one question has been mulling my brain ever since.
Shortly after that conversation, I left my home church and went to a different church. The youth group at the church I was at, was merging with another church across town. I followed. Granted, I was beyond high school years, but I loved being with that age group…loved being at church…so I went for it. I remember during the transition stages telling myself that this was my chance to get out. If I wanted to end this portion of my life, now was the time.
Nope. That wasn’t the plan though…at least not God’s plan. At this new church, I started to see a different kind of faith. A more, charismatic Catholicism. It was new, foreign and interesting all at the same time. I wanted to have the passion, the fire, the charisma that I saw others had. They had a genuine relationship with God…a real one…and I wanted it. I stuck around, absorbing all I could…it was kinda like living the life of the high school retreats. About this time I realized, I want more. I wanted to live a life like this…fully devoted to God…totally in love.
Another church change. Brought on through another retreat movement that was parish based…the church that I’m currently at right now. I was so on fire. I wanted more. That little voice in the back of my head kept saying: “you should consider religious life”. So I did. I did a little bit of research of places here in Connecticut, and found the Franciscan Sisters of the Eucharist. I emailed them and set up an appointment to visit. I did…and the place was absolutely beautiful. I was stunned. And because I was on such a high and just wanted to “move in right away” I thought that was the place. I left there that day all set to join. The sisters on the other hand, weren’t as sure that I was ready.
I wasn’t.
Shortly after that visit, I had a breakdown…of the mental health variety. Complete with anxiety attacks, shakes, severe depression. I was ugly, it was really bad. I had hit rock bottom. And I was stuck in that rut for a couple of years. I had to depend on others to even make sure I got nutrients, because I was so anxiety ridden that I couldn’t keep anything down. The next two years I was back and forth to mental health doctors on various forms of medicine. Finally one day I just said, NO. No more medicine. I don’t want it, I don’t need it, I have God and He will take care of me.
Everyone thought I was dumb.
And my depression slid. Repeat the cycle…take meds, refuse to take meds, depression again. Until one day, there wasn’t a slide. I stopped taking the meds…and I was stable. I didn’t do anything different then that I had done in the past and the only thing I can accredit the shift to, is God.
That was three years ago.
Since then I have become the co-youth minister of my youth group. I’ve joined the choir. I’ve continued to teach religious ed classes. My life, throughout all of the down…continued to be in service to my church. I had many friends along the way who helped me get to today. Many friends who held me, who loved me, who guided me, who prayed with me and for me. I wouldn’t be here today without their intercession, love and support.
Over the last couple of years I’ve felt trapped. Trapped in a world that just keeps going and going and going and nothing ever seems to get better. My finances are a never ending battle. I feel as though I just don’t fit in anywhere I go. I just feel stuck.
Ironically, that’s normal for all those who are called to religious life.
This past winter, I started to visit the potential of religious life again. We had a Vocation director come to our youth group, and he showed us a dvd about vocations.
And I cried. Then I remembered that the previous year, at the high school youth conference, I cried during the vocation time…not just a few tears, full on bawling.
But that last time, I stopped and thought to myself “what does this all mean?”
God prompted me to heavily consider religious life. And I struggled. I wanted more than anything to have a family, to be married, to be normal, but looking ahead in life I couldn’t even picture any of that for myself. Who did I think I was fooling?
I knew something in my life had to change. So I started looking at schools…because the next logical step in life would be to work your way towards getting more money. I found a school in Ohio that I fell in love with. Couple that with the fact that I was going to be living with Hollie, and I was giddy. The name of the school: Ohio Dominican University…a Catholic college. So I prayed. Hollie prayed. We both kept praying for His will to be done. And it was. I was rejected from the school.
I was devastated. I felt like I again let people down, and that I failed myself. At this point I wish I could’ve looked in the future to see what it was that God had in store for me.
One night I was with my youth group kids at an hour of adoration. Adoration is where we put the Eucharist, the Body of Christ, in a holder called a monstrance. As Catholics, we believe that Jesus is present in the Eucharist and the Eucharist is not just a symbol of the bread at the last supper…it IS Jesus.
It was at that adoration that I had my eyes opened. As I was kneeling there, praying, I was sitting alone. I was frustrated, crying, and just all around felt defeated. I kept saying over and over to God to just let His will be done. And then I heard Him say: “prostrate yourself in front of me”
Have I mentioned that I’m stubborn? I totally argued with Him. We went back and forth for probably 10 minutes. Finally I gave in. I stood up. Went in front of the Eucharist and layed down, face into the ground. And I start sobbing. The second I hit the ground I heard, “I want you to be mine. I want you to be my bride”. I stopped crying and immediate peace flooded through my body. It was like someone had glued me to the floor. I didn’t want to move…because I was just surrounded with peace and calmness.
When I stood up again, I felt as though everything that had just happened was surreal. I talked to some friends to get their interpretation on the whole experience and they all agreed, that I needed to pursue religious life. I had felt the call years before, but that wasn’t the time…but now…now is the time.
So I did. I started looking. Found the Franciscan sisters again, set up an appointment, but that was not the place for me. I didn’t feel like I belonged there. Don’t get me wrong, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t fulfilling enough. Their prayer life seemed to be lacking a bit and the community didn’t feel close nit.
I came home. And started looking. Googling and googling. Looking at various websites of religious orders. No matter how many times I’ve looked (and believe me, I’ve searched a lot), I keep coming back to this one order though. This order is strictly a teaching order…teaching…in a school…the same career choice that I had envisioned when I was younger. The one thing about this order that I was having a hard time looking past, was the fact that it is out of state. In Nashville, Tennessee. It’s a 16 hour drive from here.
How the heck was that to happen? How was I supposed to visit them? And I can’t leave my family and friends!
A friend of mine though said something to me that I needed to hear: “If you stay here, you will be surrounded still by the negativity of those who are against you joining this order, and the negativity that surrounds your family and friends. If you go out of state, all that stuff is not there. You will have joy, peace, love, and God, and you can fully submerse yourself in your vocation and in your discernment”.
She hit it on the head. And I needed to hear it.
Remember the name of the school I was going to go to in Ohio? Ohio Dominican? This order: Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia.
See a common thread? Dominican?
But wait, it gets better.
During the confirmation process, one has to chose a Saint. That Saint becomes “their Saint”, and the Saint name gets added to their name. For an instance, my cousin Kaitlyn just made her confirmation and chose Saint Michael the Archangel. Her name is now: Kaitlyn Rose Michael (last name).
I bet you can’t guess who my saint is???
St. Cecilia.
I chose Cecilia because my fathers mother, my grandmother who passed away before I was born, her name was Cecile. I felt it to be an honor to have her name as part of my name. It was the only reason I picked her.
God definitely had other plans. St. Cecilia is the patron saint of music…and I started singing around 6 years ago…way after I had picked her name.
Little God incidents.
My story is not finished. I know that God has many more things in store for me during this journey of discernment. I know that this month I have two retreats that I will be attending with my youth group and I know that many great things will come out of those retreats, not just for the kids, but for me as well. I’m so excited to be on this journey of discovery and faith!
Oh and by the way, I filled out an application for the Dominican Sisters and sent it out yesterday. 
