Worries and fears

Oh my Jesus, please be with me. Please send Your Spirit to guide me. I cannot do this without You - there is no reason to my doing this without You, because You are the reason.

Sitting in my kitchen, warming water and mixing apple sauce to make bread, waiting for 7:30 to roll around...

Lord, I am afraid of so many things.

I am afraid to leave medical school early - whether it is after one semester or two. I am afraid of what my professors and advisers will think. I am afraid to leave my classmates with one less person in the class. We are supposed to be in this 5 year journey together. I am afraid to tell my family. I am afraid to give up Christmas and Thanksgiving with them.

So many fears about what I would be leaving behind...but Lord, please, remind me of what I am leaving it all behind for.

Come, follow Me.


None of it makes any sense without You, the eternal Bridegroom, staring back at me from the monstrance. Loving me into life.

I do not want to live my life in fear. I want to live boldly, joyfully, courageously for You. I want to give my entire being to You - my entire self, body and soul.

I ran so far...will You take me back again?

Wholly Yours

Oh my Jesus, You are so good to me. You pour out so many blessings upon me. One of the novices says at dinner - "He's a romantic" - and it is so true. All weekend You sent me signs of Your love for me. You have done such great things for me, Lord - such things that I am not worthy of. Truly, You have prepared the way. Only You could work such wonders. Only Your hand could have led me to this moment.

I spent the weekend on retreat with the RSMs in Alma, MI. There is too much to tell about the weekend. So many, many, many graces! And the slowly dawning realization of what the Lord has worked in these past six months. I feel such peace and certainty that this is the vocation He has chosen for me. This is the life He wishes for me - not only now, but for all eternity! I feel so certain, Lord - this is not my will, but Yours. This is not about what good work I can do in the world - this is about eternity with You. This is the plan You have laid out for me from the moment You conceived me in my mother's womb, from the moment You gave me life.

And Sister Catherine Marie says to ask the Lord when He is calling me to enter - because the postulant entrance is usually August 1, but there have been sisters who have entered at other times. It is all up to You, Jesus. I will go when You ask me to go.

Tonight I was supposed to have a phone call with Mother Mary Patricia, the postulant formator, but she was in a meeting with someone and asked me to call her tomorrow evening. And that is the sort of thing that should be sending me into a spiral of anxiety and despair. But I called out to You, Jesus, and You gave me peace and a reminder of Your love for me. You are in charge here, Jesus. You are building the house.

So I will call again tomorrow, and we shall see.

Ora et labora

Day by day, this place becomes my monastery. And I strive to mark each day with prayers and sacrifice. I will smile at everyone, especially Jesus. I will be obedient to my superiors, and especially to the Lord. I will be kind and loving, compassionate and gentle. I will treat everyone as Christ.

Forgive me Lord – I become short with others when I should be kind. I just get so tired of running into opposition about abortion and contraception, so tired of being told that I can’t tell other people what to do, when that isn't at all my intention. You said the world will hate us because of Your Name, and that we must pray for those who persecute us. I try to pray for everyone I see, Lord. But You know my heart, and the extent of my pride and sin. You see the grudges that stick to the insides of my soul.  

Teach me, Lord, to still my mind and slow my breath. Teach me to hold my tongue and speak the truth in love. Teach me to smile when I'd rather sit in stony silence, to do my part when I'd rather be alone. Teach me to offer all my sorrow to You, to immolate myself in the fire of Your Sacred Heart, that nothing in me might cause anyone to stumble.

This is a school of prayer and work, of service and study. And day by day, Lord, You are showing me that You meant what You said - You are with me always. And nothing can separate me from Your love.

A school of love

Thomas Merton wrote, paraphrasing from some other saint I'm sure, that a monastery is a school of love. But for those of us outside of cloistered walls, the whole world must be a school of love.

9 am on a Monday morning and I am standing above the body of a man who less than 48 hours ago was dying in a hospital bed on one of the clinic's floors. A lateral incision through the chest wall reveals diaphragm and pericardium, esophagus and lungs. I crowd with my classmates to one side and peer into the cavern opened up before us, nodding my head in time to the discussion of trauma surgeries and aortic clamps. This is a school of anatomy and physiology, biochemistry and histology...the threads run together in my mind, reminding me of how much I do not know.

But his skin is pink and marked by the faded ink of old tattoos. And when the surgical cloths slip for just a moment so that I catch a glimpse of thinning gray hair at the base of his skull, I know suddenly that this too is a school of love.

This is my body, given for you. Given that you might learn. Given that you might one day heal.

And so I offer thanks, through lips as mute as his. May his soul rest in peace, Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon him.

Being realistic

So the ND's are out for me. Thank You, Jesus, for the swift and kind response from the Vocation Director - it helps to know what is and is not a true possibility. I am most restless when I imagine that there are so many other places I could be rather than here.

1 day down...5 years to go

So, I've made it through my first day of "real" medical school. Started off with Anatomy lab at 8 am. Saw some prosections of the thoracic cavity and held some pig hearts (Lord, You are amazing...how truly fearfully and wonderfully each one of our bodies in made). Then PBL with a case on congestive heart failure. Then back home by 12:15! A truly welcome change from the summer months.

Even so...the novelty of it all is fading, after only a few hours. Sometimes my classmates' enthusiasm for all this stuff bugs me, but that's just because I can't summon up the same enthusiasm. I don't really want to be learning about cardiac physiology. I hate to be negative, but it takes monumental effort to feign interest in what I'd rather not be doing.

I feel drawn to be with people in the hard times of life...the elderly patient dying of cancer. The parents of a child who will live only a few days. The young mother struggling with an unplanned pregnancy. Medicine seems like this hazy way that I will be able to help them...but maybe what I really want is not to manage their medical problems, but just to be present to them. Just to sit with them and help them make some kind of meaning out of their suffering. Just to help them glimpse the face of God through the thinning veil between this world and the next.

I can come up with a thousand reasons why I don't have a vocation to religious life. I suppose there's only one good one why I would - only if He calls me.

Lord, I have no idea where I am going...

Thomas Merton knew what he was talking about when he wrote those words...

Lord, I have no idea where I am going. I am at the end of my fall break, about to start my first "real" block of medical school. I had a really great week - drove out to DC to see R., got to have brunch with C., went up to Philly and visited with CC, J and B, met the new JV's, had lunch with H...then hung out with some med school folks, baked a delicious apple pie, started on that puzzle I rather impulsively purchased earlier this year...interesting bioethics classes...Society Dean's dinner last night, pancake breakfast at Ronald McDonald House this morning. Did some cleaning...tried to do anatomy reading but was very confused...went to Holy Rosary and tried to have a Holy Hour (You know how that went, Lord)...drove around a little aimlessly looking for baking supplies for N.'s birthday...

There's a new Switchfoot song I've been hearing on the radio. I am restless, I am restless, I am restless, looking for You...

They say that a sign of a religious vocation is being happy, but with a restless feeling that only God can satisfy.

I just never know if I'm actually happy or not. I am very sensitive to that restless feeling. To me, happiness is peace and joy, inner stillness and exultation, love overflowing. Anything less I don't call happiness. I call it fine. I call it functioning. There can be momentary enjoyment, of course. Times of laughter with friends. Pleasure and satisfaction at baking something yummy. Interest in reading something intellectually stimulating. Maybe that's happiness according to the world. Or maybe I just ask for too much, have impossible standards. But when You offer us such joy, Lord, how can we ask for anything less?

When are the times that I have been happiest since moving here?

Talking to R. about Your love. Sending her those songs. Mass. Communion. Talking to C. about discernment.

When are the times that I was happiest before moving here?

Some moments in the shelter...holiday parties, doctors' nights...times when I was falling in love with You. Crazy times filled with purpose...NGL weekends, Saturday afternoon Masses after the vigil and brunch, Sacred Heart Devotions...

I don't want the happiness that this world has to offer. I don't want satisfaction with professional achievement. I don't want to find pleasure in how I look or how I perform in school or whether I match with a good residency program.

I would like to pour myself out in love. To a spouse, to children, to my parents and sisters, to my friends, to the poor, to the despairing, to the unbelieving...and to You, Lord. Always and everywhere to You.

I do yearn for beautiful liturgy, true sacrifice, true worship. I do yearn to see You face to face.

I think part of why it is so hard to leave my family is that I'm not sure how fully they believe in You. That's terrible to say, isn't it? I want to believe that I'll see them in the next life, Lord. You will lead them to You, won't You? They taught me this faith...I owe so much to them. How could I leave them for a community that would allow me to see them only one week each year? How could I leave them to teach other people's children, and miss out on the births and childhoods of my any kids my sisters might have? How could I love and care for elderly sisters in the community and not be there to care for my own parents as they age?

It always seems like the most beautiful communities are those that demand the most sacrifice. But maybe it cannot be any other way.