This week is National Vocation Awareness Week. This week celebrates vocations to the
priesthood, diaconate, and consecrated life in particular. God uses many means to communicate His
call. Perhaps He wants to use your
voice! Words of encouragement from
parents, family members, friends, and the parish can make a huge impact, and many
young people who have embraced the call to become a priest or religious say that
they first considered this way of life when someone asked them if they ever
had, or presented it as a possible and realistic life choice. Sometimes it can be easy to encourage vocations
in general, but not in the people who are closest to us. We want priests and religious, but we don’t want
our brothers, sisters, friends, cousins, nieces, nephews, sons or daughters to
have to leave us in order to pursue this way of life. It is no doubt an enormous sacrifice for
family members and friends to make!
Below are the thoughts of one father who encountered a similar and not
uncommon struggle when his daughter became interested in religious life. Perhaps his words can encourage you as you
ponder how God may be calling you to encourage vocations!
by Matt Wenke:
“If other men’s daughters expressed an interest in the convent or the cloister, I wouldn’t have questioned it at all. I would have been respectful of their choice and genuinely happy for them. “What a noble and beautiful vocation!” or, “What a meaningful life with a holy purpose!” I no doubt would have thought.
When I heard
of my own daughter’s interest in the cloister, my immediate thought was, “Oh,
my gosh, I hope you get a vacation…how often can you come home to visit?”
Isn’t it sad
that my first thought wasn’t about Nora’s vocational fulfillment and spiritual
well-being? My initial thought was that I might be missing my daughter’s
presence in my home, and her gentle, delightful company.
I had these
thoughts because I did know some things about the cloister. I’d read Saint
Therese’s autobiography, The Story of a Soul, with its description of her
entrance into the cloister, and having to say goodbye to her grieving father
and sister Celine.
I’ve always
had a hard time with goodbyes.
I observed
Nora’s spiritual confidence and serenity in her vocational choice as she first
visited the Passionist nuns for a week-long “Come and see” discernment in
November-December of 2013, and then her three-month “Aspirancy Visit” from
February to May of 2014. I’d been dreading that goodbye to my only daughter.
While waiting
and praying through that time, I asked myself: Should I try to make her stay?
Should I ‘guilt trip’ her into worrying about my grief and sadness?. . .I
pondered the selfishness of that, and the manipulation and misuse of power and
control dynamics it might have represented. I thought of the guilty I would
feel if I looked at my daughter, entrapped by my selfishness. . .
The thought
horrified me! I’d considered religious life myself, and how would I have felt
if someone had emotionally entrapped me, kept me from making a free choice
about my vocation and lifestyle. I know that I might have resented that person,
and felt grief for not answering our loving Lord’s attractive call.
I looked at my
daughter: a pure soul. A deeply spiritual young woman, wanting to discern God’s
call for her, freely. She has the desire to conform herself to God’s Will that
I have prayed for, for all of my children. . .[because] to be authentic
followers, we have to be open to all choices, not just for ourselves, but for
all of those we love.
When Nora came
home from her three-month aspirancy visit to Kentucky, she never fully
returned. Her body was home, but her spirit belonged to a cloister in Kentucky.
She loved us the same and “adjusted” to being home. However, she reminded me
after a day or two that this was “no longer her life.” She assured me that “I
don’t have a life here anymore; I need to be going about God’s work for me, and
it isn’t here for me, anymore.” She didn’t say this in a mean way; it was just
a statement of fact.
I was shocked
and, I admit, somewhat tender about her words. But deep down, I knew the truth
of them. I began to prepare myself for a more final parting to take place at
the end of July, when Nora would begin her year-long postulancy.
At the end of
that time, if she still feels called to the cloister, she will never return
home to Olean, New York.
Nora’s words
reminded me of Jesus’ words to Mary and Joseph at the finding in the temple:
“Did you not know that I must be about my father’s business?” Certainly his
words cut them a little, but they had to “know” the deep spiritual truth of
them. Like Jesus, Nora obediently followed the plan to be with us until the end
of July.
But she had
spoken the words. This visit was temporary, and we must not mistake that.
From May until
July 26th, when we returned to Kentucky, I prayed for the courage and faith and
love to let my daughter go. . .to give back to God the daughter he had loaned
me to us for nearly nineteen years. My only daughter. God gave his son for me.
Could I place my beautiful Nora back into his arms?
I won’t lie to
you. . .I cried and cried, countless times, as I looked at my beloved daughter,
praying the rosary beside me each night. Tears came to me as I looked at her,
across the room at Morning Prayer or during our recitation of the Angelus, many
days at Noon. I memorized the sound of her voice and really concentrated on the
fact that she was asleep at night, safe in her own room, under my roof.
Not one day of
her two month visit did I take her presence for granted. . .I treasured the
time with my daughter.
I did a lot of
reflection on the contemplative lifestyle. While I still dreaded saying goodbye
to Nora, I could understand her excitement and joy and even envy it during
noisy times of chaos at home or at work. I surmised that some spiritual part of
me would join her in her new home, and that her prayers in the cloister would
be united with ours at home, or at Mass. “Dear God,” I prayed, “give us
courage, comfort and deep love, as we live this out.”
Well, the 27th
of July came. The Gospel reading was perfect for the day — all about finding
the precious pearl and buying the field in order to possess the treasure. Nora
had found her love for the Lord and desire to give all to Him and to be totally
possessed by Him!
My daughter is
a singular treasure. . .this “pearl” will be joined to the string of precious
pearls [in this enclosed Passionist community]. Each pearl is unique; one is
not more beautiful than the other. They all add to the completeness of the
chain.
I contemplated
that reading and observed with joy and wonder and awe Nora’s radiant joy upon
returning to the cloister. Nothing bad could bring the visible joy and peace
and ecstasy she seemed to be experiencing.
I prayed more
and more for courage and joy in me, as well.
Guess what?
God gave them to me! I was shocked on the morning of Nora’s entrance; her joy
and love were infectious. I couldn’t think about myself. I could only think
about my daughter’s joyful, unselfish, pure and free decision to enter
religious life, and to give her all to God.
What about
you? Are you discerning? Is your daughter/granddaughter or other loved one
thinking of embracing a religious vocation?
If so, are you
encouraging their free choice or are you just protecting your own tender
feelings, and dreading the sacrifice?
I challenge
you to give up all. My wife’s frequent words keep coming back to me: “God will
not be outdone in generosity!”
Pray for
courage and love and generosity. You will need all of it. As our parish priest
reminded us, we’re not giving up a daughter; we’re learning to hold her in a
new way.
Don’t deprive
yourself of a chance to sacrifice. Don’t deprive God of his beloved bride, your
loved one.
Be assured of
my prayers for you, whether you are an aspiring nun or her family. May God
bless you all. May God’s Will be done unto and by all of us, for only through
conformity to the Will of God can we know peace and love and contentment in
this life, as well as the next.
Read more:
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/thefont/2014/10/sure-we-need-nuns-but-not-my-daughter/#ixzz3HjFZqaP3
Written by Kristen