By special request

I had a request to an earlier post from Jim – namely to share when I first decided to look into becoming a "groovy sister." My first blogging request! And such a big one which will require I think a longer than usual post. I’ll give it a try….

I laugh when I read about how parents need to foster vocations. My Dad always thought I should be a Sister – and for many years I reacted AGAINST that. My Dad and I have what I’d call a complicated relationship, and if he wanted me to do something I pretty much didn’t do it. At the time I thought that he didn’t know the real me … in reality he apparently saw something in me that I didn’t see. That said, both my parents raised me to make a difference in the world by both helping the less fortunate and working for systemic change. My mom did that in social work. My dad in politics. I feel called to that through religious life (after a failed attempt as a bureaucrat!).

But back to the question, when did I first decide to look into becoming a "groovy sister?" Most recently it’s an evolution of a process that began when my mom died in October 2003. But it goes back before then. On a conscious level the first time I remember that crazy thought popping into my head mind was in high school.

I had gone to Catholic elementary school run by some pretty stern nuns – they wore modified habits even into the 1980s and had men’s names. When my older siblings were at St Plaid (not its real name) there were loads of sisters who were notorious for the ruler action and detentions for not standing up straight. By my time there were only a few of them and they were much milder, but nevertheless they did not make a good impression on me. I had no desire to join their dwindling ranks and terrorize future generations of catholic school kids.

My high school was run by some pretty groovy sisters themselves – although it was a transition time for women religious and you could tell they weren’t sure what they were being called to. They closed my all-girl’s high school my senior year in fact. I loved our principal (Sr. Janet) – in fact I’ve gotten back into contact with her lately to share my news. She’s now the provincial of her order!

Back to the question, I distinctly remember sitting in religion class my junior year one day. We had some visitors, some Sisters who were involved in justice work in Central America. I was enthralled by their stories and amazed at their courage. If I hadn’t essentially given up on the Catholic Church at this point or if it hadn’t been a time of transition for women religious who knows what would have happened.

Instead what happened was I stopped being a practicing Catholic and ran away to heathen Oregon to go to college. For the next 8 years or so I didn’t step foot in a church unless I was home with Mom & Dad. I started my career as a bureaucrat after college and floated from volunteer job to volunteer job looking aimlessly for fulfillment in my spare time. I flirted with Eastern religions and even tried being a Quaker. Then one day I found my way to my Paulist Parish. A good friend of mine was being installed on the Pastoral Council, and I came to offer moral support. Turns out I’m the one that got the moral support – direct from God in the form of a welcoming and affirming community of faith.

I went back week after week, even though I kept telling myself I wasn’t Catholic or anything. But God was doing what God does best, and slowly but surely I was able to open my heart to God’s love. Before I knew it I was super involved in my parish. Sunday School. Young Adult Group. Peace & Justice Commission. I started our local Pax Christi Chapter. I was myself elected to the Pastoral Council. My faith and my parish became the most important parts of my life. I felt such peace and love there, and was able to do some amazing things. Contrasted to my work life, this was classic case of consolation and desolation.

One day a year or so after I came back to the Church, I remember taking a solitary walk on the Oregon Coast. There I was minding my own business, when the thought hit me. Although it was more than a thought, it was a "SUSAN! You should be a Sister. Think what you could do. Think what you could be." And my reaction was a clear "Uh, No Thanks. Not interested. Obedience. Chastity. Poverty. No thanks." Later that day I was sitting in the coffee shop reading the New York Times. There was an article about the lack of religious vocations. I remember thinking, "Ok God, I get the point, but no thanks. Maybe when I’m 40." I think I was 28 at the time.

Then in 2002 my mom was diagnosed with cancer. My life was turned upside down. I went through the motions – at work, in my social life, at church. I had some struggles with God allowing such suffering. She died in October 2003 and I turned inward. I was broken and alone and turned to God. And God provided such comfort and love both in prayer and through my parish community. Gradually I got more involved in parish life, but there was a difference. I was able to do things well beyond my abilities, especially when I was working on peace and justice activities. I’d come home from work exhausted and start working on church stuff with a burst of energy. I couldn’t ignore that there was something to it. I started thinking that I should find a way to pay off my debt, quit my job and work for the Church. But not as a Sister … why would I do that?

I started talking with my pastor to figure out what my gifts were and how God was calling me to use them. Once I started down this path, it seemed pretty clear that I needed to explore religious life. Figure out what the reality of it was today and what it could be in the future. This was the summer of 2004. I started seeing my spiritual director. I started exploring religious communities and getting know some amazing women religious. There was such energy. Such life. Such hope. And I could see myself in that life, see how I’d make sense, how the world would make sense. It’s not so much about what I can do but who I’ll be with and who I will be as I do it. I now feel drawn to the vowed life ... parodoxically I sense freedom in the vows. But that's another post!

The rest as they say is history. Does that answer the question? If not, the question is really the whole point of this blog so eventually I’ll get there. Thanks for the request Jim! This was a good exercise for me. When I apply for candidacy I’ll have to write an autobiography of some sort. This will be a good start!