I used to pray not to get the calling. Yes, that's right, "Please God, don't call me to the sisterhood." But I knew, just KNEW, that if indeed I did get the calling, I would have to go. I was convinced I would join a convent if God told me. Whew. Dodged that bullet. But seriously, I was concerned for quite some time (2nd-8th grade) that God would decide he wanted the brown-haired reluctant girl to be a nun (or even scarier - a missionary!). I am ever so happy that 1) I never had a psychotic break and heard a voice tell me to join the sisterhood, and 2) God (who may or may not exist) never thought I would be a "fun project" for the convent. And although I do look good in black, I am a notorious head-sweater and would not have done well in the polyester habit. Amen.
Monday, November 06, 2006
THE CALLING
I am a recovering Cathoholic. I went to Catholic school for 12 years and decided in college that the church/guilt/anti-woman thing just wasn't for me. Plus, I found that free will is really fun. But as a lasting tribute to the nuns, I have a way with the guilt. I can beat myself up over anything in under one minute. Nuns, man. They were powerful. So powerful in fact that 
I used to pray not to get the calling. Yes, that's right, "Please God, don't call me to the sisterhood." But I knew, just KNEW, that if indeed I did get the calling, I would have to go. I was convinced I would join a convent if God told me. Whew. Dodged that bullet. But seriously, I was concerned for quite some time (2nd-8th grade) that God would decide he wanted the brown-haired reluctant girl to be a nun (or even scarier - a missionary!). I am ever so happy that 1) I never had a psychotic break and heard a voice tell me to join the sisterhood, and 2) God (who may or may not exist) never thought I would be a "fun project" for the convent. And although I do look good in black, I am a notorious head-sweater and would not have done well in the polyester habit. Amen.
I used to pray not to get the calling. Yes, that's right, "Please God, don't call me to the sisterhood." But I knew, just KNEW, that if indeed I did get the calling, I would have to go. I was convinced I would join a convent if God told me. Whew. Dodged that bullet. But seriously, I was concerned for quite some time (2nd-8th grade) that God would decide he wanted the brown-haired reluctant girl to be a nun (or even scarier - a missionary!). I am ever so happy that 1) I never had a psychotic break and heard a voice tell me to join the sisterhood, and 2) God (who may or may not exist) never thought I would be a "fun project" for the convent. And although I do look good in black, I am a notorious head-sweater and would not have done well in the polyester habit. Amen.
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1 comment:
I love you and your wacky brain. You make me feel more normal everyday.
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