Apologies for the terrible pun.
Last night, I had a surprising and vivid dream. I had entered a convent, but had not taken my vows. The convent was situated in a beautiful area. It was in the countryside and was surrounded by rolling hills. The weather was always warm and pleasant, the grass was fresh and fragrant and flowers were always blooming. I went out to explore the town nearby. I was sitting at a table talking to a man I had just met. He asked me what I was doing in the town and I replied, "Well, I'm staying with the nuns. I only arrived here recently." He said, "Well I can see you're a nun." I then realized that I was wearing a habit, which surprised me. Time passed, and I got used to living in the convent, but I kept telling people I met that I had just arrived. Mother Superior continued to urge me to take my vows, but I kept putting it off - I couldn't decide if I really wanted to be a nun or not. Finally, my friend Lauren showed up. She was a cloistered nun (Sister Servant of the Holy Ghost of Perpetual Adoration, I think, judging by her pink habit) but had left the convent to come talk to me. She told me that I was being ridiculous and I needed to take my vows. I told her I had only just gotten there and I would do so soon. She said, "Caitlin, you've been here for over two years." I was amazed. I woke up before I was able to take my vows.
Now, I may be a superstitious person, but I don't think that dreams are visions of the future, or signs or anything like that. But I do think that we tend to dream about the things that are occupying our subconscious or deeply bothering us. For this reason, I was surprised by my dream. I have thought about becoming a nun before, in passing, but since I am not even a Catholic yet (Feb. 4!), it seems incredibly premature.
On the one hand, I am happiest on my mission trips, doing service work and the prospect of being able to devote my whole life and being to serving God through serving others sounds wonderful. On the other hand, I sometimes have deep-seated longings to someday have a family, and the thought of not having children saddens me. In some ways, I am better able to imagine life as a nun, because I already know the feelings of fulfillment that accompany prayer, worship and service work, but do not know what it is like to be married or have children (though having children is easier to imagine than being married because I have baby-sat for so many children).
In Nikos Kazantzakis' book, "St. Francis," Francis talks about having conflicting callings. He says that when he feels multiple callings within himself, he knows that the one that God truly wants him to follow is the one that is more difficult. God does not want him to take the easy way out. I'm not sure if I buy this 100%; I think that sometimes I know I am doing God's will because He gives me feelings of joy and peace, and even makes difficult tasks seem easy and pleasant. For example, when I am doing service work, I am very happy (despite lack of sleep, sleeping on the floor, etc.) and feel that I can take on anything, no matter how difficult it seems. But, I sometimes think about what Kazantzakis had St. Francis say and use it as a sort of exercise.
Unfortunately, it brings me to no conclusion. Both paths seem difficult, and both paths seem like taking the easy way out. On the one hand, getting married and having a family seems almost selfish. It seems like a choice that that is based on the goals of comfort and personal satisfaction. This, I know, is not true, but these are the ways in which family life seems easy. On the other hand, marriage is scary and hard to imagine. It seems like something impossible, something I don't deserve. In this way, the path of getting married and having children seems like the more difficult path by far.
Religious life, too, seems both easy and unbearably difficult. It seems easy because I already can imagine it, can imagine the happiness it would bring and because I wouldn't have to go through all the trials associated with marriage and raising children. It also seems easy because after making the initial decision to become a nun, my life would be completely in God's hands. Certainly I would struggle with temptation and sin as I do now, but I would not have to make the kinds of big decisions like where to live, what to do on a daily basis, whom to marry, how to raise my children, etc. On the other hand, religious life seems incredibly difficult. Devoting every second to God through service for three and a half months is one thing; the rest of my life is quite another. It would take extraordinary grace to be able to keep such a life up for 60, 70 years without becoming utterly exhausted and crushed.
Luckily, I don't think I have to make any kind of decision for at least a number of years. I should set my concerns aside and be open to whatever God has in store for me. For now, I will do those things that are, to me, quite obviously God's will (going back to Appalachia to serve the poor this summer) and pray for greater understanding of what His will is on a daily basis. Until one calling becomes so deafening that the other is drowned out, I don't think I can really make any plans. I suppose neither calling will ever be truly put to rest until the other is fulfilled. That is, religious life will always be a potential path until the day of my wedding and, conversely, marriage will always be a potential path until the day I do take vows as a nun. But until one of these happens, I have to be open to whatever God puts in my heart.
"When love beckons you, follow him,
though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden."
- The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran
"And I will lead the blind in a way that they know not,
in paths that they have not known I will guide them.
I will turn the darkness before them into light,
the rough places into level ground."
- Isaiah 42:16
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