Personal Vocation, Personal Healing
The Eucharist by Okänd - 1660 - Nationalmuseum Sweden, Sweden - Public Domain.
https://www.europeana.eu/item/2064116/Museu_ProvidedCHO_Nationalmuseum__Sweden_23024
When I asked the Lord what his plans were for me, I was caught completely off guard when He said religious life. I had learned growing up that the Lord calls each of us to be saints, and that He has a particular path for each of us. I knew this “particularity” of the path was important, but I had no idea that the Lord would be using my particular vocation, within my particular community, to bring about the healing of my particular wounds: the fearful wounds of self-sufficiency, of self-protection and self-depreciation. I was not prepared to encounter the support of my Sisters, the example of St. Francis, or the tender love of Our Lord as a response to those wounds. I never would have dreamed that my vocation, the Lord’s ordained path for my holiness, would also be his ordained path for my healing.
Upon entering religious life, I tried to hide in the coping mechanisms that had worked for me growing up, such as people-pleasing and anticipating others’ needs. I desired to please the Lord, could follow community customs and was good at serving others. Not only was I good, but was praised for my attentiveness to the needs of others and my generosity in service. As I continued further in formation, those coping mechanisms started to unravel and the truth of the pain I was in surfaced. Through many encounters with the patience, love and joy of my Sisters, I could see where I was living in fear and learned that coping mechanisms, because they are based in fear rather than love, are not authentic virtues. As promised, the Lord’s grace was there. I slowly began to make decisions from a place of belovedness. My need for control and my fear of rejection started to slowly fade away each time I saw the tenderness of the Lord reflected in the eyes of my Sisters.
Through those encounters with my Sisters, I began to learn new things about myself that challenged other long-held beliefs. Reflecting on God’s presence in my past showed me the abundance of God’s goodness, and the great care that He took to guide and protect me from any number of other evils that I could have encountered. Growing in my identity as a Franciscan allowed me to learn how to follow the Lord as St. Francis and St. Clare did. Their great devotion to the humanity, poverty and passion of Our Lord formed me so much that I was able, for the first time, to love my littleness and poverty. The wounds I had sustained became places of deep contact with the Lord—my own sort of stigmata—that he had allowed because he knew my deep desire for union with Him in everything. He did not just create the beautiful, happy moments, but was present in the tragic events as well. He was the only one who knew the pain of my heart, and held it tenderly in his hands. I began to experience the same joy that Francis had when he realized that he had a Heavenly Father who would never abandon him. The joy of Mary receiving the Son of God into her womb. The joy of knowing Christ as my Spouse.
This was the joy of a Eucharistic life. I had always been drawn to Christ’s presence in the Eucharist, but never so much as when I was handing over my wounds to the Lord in adoration. The battle for freedom from the harmful effects of my parent’s divorce was raging in my life. I was afraid to venture on that journey, but He was not. I would go for my holy hour and sit there, wanting to go deeper in my relationship with him, but only experience the deafening silence of my own thoughts and fears. What if he didn’t answer? Would he leave me someday, when he was tired of me, and angry at my mistakes? I began, with much encouragement, to simply tell him my memories, pain and fears. I could identify the things I came to believe about myself, and started to ask the Lord what was really true. A feeling of peace would come over me, with his voice of peace, speaking words that my heart longed to hear. And it was not only once, in some magnificent moment. I came to him over, and over again, with anger, sadness, and hopelessness. There he was, time and time again, present to my emotions, my tears, my confusion and my exhaustion. The more I went and sat in the silence of adoration, the deeper my heart was pierced by his powerful presence. He would never leave. In the silence of those hours, He took my hand and led me closer to His Eucharistic Heart.
He “greatly desired” to have the Eucharistic meal with us, so that He could always be with us. It was a longing of His Heart long before it was a longing of mine. His desire for me was much stronger and much older than my desire for Him. In fact, everything that had happened to me was to bring me to this place. Could there have been other ways to bring me to the convent? Sure, He is God. He desired me, with my DNA, personality, experiences, hopes, dreams, desires, quirks, strengths and weaknesses. I am part of Him, and from the dawn of time he has desired to be part of me.
I knew that living my vocation to the full would be my happiness and holiness, but never did I dream that it would also be a balm for my wounds. I can now say with peaceful confidence that everything that has happened to me and around me has brought greater union with Him, fulfilled my wildest dreams and brought fruitfulness in my prayer and apostolate. If you are reluctant to bring your past to him in adoration, just start by bringing yourself and placing yourself before him. Let him love you there, in the quiet stillness of prayer, and fill with His peace. If you are afraid of the challenges in your vocation, take heart. Our Lord does not ask you to do this alone. He walked each path of suffering and healing before us. Each of our vocations is a gift, encountered one day at a time, in the place that he has prepared for us and called us to.
Intercessory Prayer:
Saints Francis and Clare, please pray for Adult Children of Divorce to find their vocations in God’s providence.
About the Author:
Sister M. Lucia Richardson, OSF is a religious sister of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration. Born and raised in the Midwest, she has been blessed with the grace of knowing God's love and healing presence in the midst of much family turbulence, separation and divorce. Eucharistic Adoration, life with her Sisters in community, and teaching her students bring her an abundance of joy that she loves sharing with others each day.
Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals:
How has the Lord already worked healing in your life through your personal vocation at this moment?
What relationships have been conduits of God's love?
What are creative ways that you can incorporate a few minutes of Eucharistic adoration into each day? Do you have access to an Adoration Chapel, or can you visit the Lord reposed in the tabernacle? If nothing else, can you make virtual visits for a few moments a day?