Post #6: A day of firsts: entering the postulancy

September 8th was a big day:
-Sr. Stephanie went on our longest runs for marathon training: she ran 20 miles, and I ran 15 miles. Phew!
-I received the cross and uniform of a Postulant -- I'm now official!
-Fr. Bob celebrated the first baptisms in the renovated Our Lady of the Angels church: some dear friends of ours asked to have their two children baptized!
-Sept. 8th is my parents' anniversary!

Here's a picture of Fr. Bob and I after I received the Franciscan cross:



In addition to being a day of "firsts", it was a remarkable day for another reason: it is Mary's birthday!

Here's the story:
Last November, I visited the Franciscans as a discerner, trying to prayerfully discern whether or not I was called to be a sister, and if so, whether or not I was called to the Franciscans. A few weeks later, I was anguishing over my fears and hesitancy about choosing either of the main paths: marriage, or religious life.

The Salesian Sisters at the U of I (neighbors to the apartment I was living in) were encouraging everyone to pray the novena leading up to the feast of the Immaculate Conception. Typically, I'm not big on novenas, rote prayers, or other devotions.  However, my heart was begging me to make a decision about religious life--so I committed myself to saying the novena prayers (one sentence of the Magnificat per day), as well as praying for one hour in the chapel for the nine days leading up to the feast day.

On December 7th, the last day of the novena, I went to the chapel in anguish. Throughout the week, my reflections all pointed to the evidence that everything that I wanted to be and do was compatible with being a Franciscan, and yet I was trying desperately to sabotage the data. Our culture, our society, and even the expectations of those around me all were screaming to make their desires for my life known: marriage, an engineering career, wealth, etc.

After having my face buried in my hands, I finally looked up at the mosaic of Jesus holding up the bread at the last supper. With the soft lighting and a little stroke of imagination, it looked like a crown of roses was in his hands, which to me, evoked the wedding crown of a sister at her final vows.

The impression of a sister-ly marriage, that of a vocation to be a sister, became clear in my heart. I finally asked, what if I just said, "yes" ?

Prompting this newly-humble question, more so than making a declarative statement,  brought a sudden calm to my anguish. I no longer felt guilt, or heaviness, or grief. It wasn't joy or ecstacy either--rather, just a calm. In that calm, on the eve of the feast of the Immaculate Conception, it made sense in my mind and my heart that I was called to be a sister--and ever since then, I have increasingly found JOY in being called to be a sister.

How fitting that nine months after my first "yes" on the day celebrating Mary's conception, that I made my "yes" as a Postulant on the day celebrating her birth?

ooh. shivers. so cool.
Jess