There comes a point in Harry Potter when Harry needs to remember a moment when he was truly happy in order to fend off some foul creatures that want to eat his soul. His first memories weren't strong enough - they were the run of the mill happy. In the end he needed to find a truly joyous moment.
This all got me thinking about a moment when I was very unexpectedly filled with joy. It was back when I was first beginning to stop actively ignoring this tug I was feeling in my heart. I'd starting talking to my pastor about the direction my life was going and where God was calling me. I'd been dancing around the realization that all signs were pointing to religious life. As I think I've written here before, I wasn't too terribly excited about the idea intellectually. But then the joy hit me. In the bathroom at work of all places. I remember looking in the mirror, washing my hands, filled with joy at the wondrous possibility that I could become a Sister. I could use my gifts to serve God and help transform the world. I was literally bursting with joy. I wanted to tell the whole world. Instead I was a good bureaucrat and went back to my desk to what seemed even more like drudgery in comparison to the joyous possibilities that lay ahead for me to explore.
I've got the last part of my groovy sister application coming up on Wednesday - the dreaded psychological evaluation. It'll be fine I know but I am of course somewhat nervous. But, like Harry, I'm planning to hold on to the memory of this joyous moment in the bathroom to see me through.