Well, I'm so wound up that I'm hoping that a little writing will prove to be purgative. And maybe it might be a good idea to provide a record of today's events. I've embarked on a life-changing quest. I don't know how the journey will end, but I believe -- especially in this case -- that it matters most how well the journey is traveled, rather than how it finishes.
It poured today. The secretary at the seminary compared the rain to Noah's flood. But the thought strikes me just now, that it might just be baptism. No, not the sacrament, but perhaps a sacramental. Several clues throughout the day hinted at hindrances: small little things that would slow down the progress toward one's goal. It was sort of like the pouring of molasses, or riding a bicycle up a steep hill. As I left work, it rained cats and dogs. I thought I had left with sufficient time to spare. The traffic on the famous Route 128 (at least it's famous in hi-technology lore) was moving slowly, even though I was moving against rush hour traffic. I could not see beyond the car in front of me. By the time I had reached Brighton, I was drained. Did I ever mention that I hate city traffic? That probably goes far to explain why I was clueless about where I was going, even though Boston College was nearby. There I was, trying to read directions, and drive in the pouring rain. Well, I was blessed by God; there's no other way to explain the fortune that brought me to my appointment on time. I left an hour early, and it took an hour to drive from the North Shore to Boston.
I was again fortunate to meet up with a kind young seminarian in the parking lot. Chris offered to guide me through what seems to me at this time a twisty maze of corridors to the vocations office. It saved me a drenching search outside for the correct building. Nevertheless, I was frazzled. That was the exact word I used... several times. Finally, I met up with Father Oscar. In case you haven't picked up on the clues, I'm discerning a vocation.
I managed to stutter, ramble, and make every subconscious effort to torpedo the interview. But Father Oscar is a nice man. I had made a humorous comment that I was too thick-skulled to detect any sign from God. I said that God had better get a huge club to knock me on the skull, because I'm not too keen at picking up hints. The good Father couldn't stop chuckling about that.
So, I started this Lent with several tasks in mind. All of them are well underway now. As I was driving home, I realized I was relieved. I have held back on the question of vocation for far too long. It was gnawing at me; I was carrying a burden and the burden had been lifted. And if I were to attach a common theme to all my tasks this Lent, it is this: I have released my burdens and submitted my will to that of our Savior. The chains are dropping, and I discover that I am becoming free. In answer to Father Oscar's question about my personal relationship to Jesus, I answered that I felt more of an attachment to God the Father, the Creator. Now, I see a bit clearer how Jesus will bring me to the Father. The next time, I think I'll have a better answer to Father Oscar's question.
Tomorrow, I think I shall see The Passion of the Christ again. The first time I was stunned. I have a feeling tears will flow next time.
I entered Father Oscar's office with a question and the answer of maybe. That question and answer have not changed. But perhaps with the help of the Blessed Virgin Mother, I will learn how to say yes to the Lord. What yes means is one of the things I will need to discern.
Well there. I think I can go to sleep now.
Peace.