Preface

On facebook.com there is a group titled “We Are Catholic!” The group has a discussion board where teens discuss various thoughts about our faith, and one teen posted a question about discerning her vocation. Dozens of people replied, including me; Here is what I posted.

What’s the Worst that Could Happen?

I read somewhere that moving and changing jobs are two of the most stressful events in a person’s life. I don’t know who conducted that study, but I’m guessing they weren’t Catholic; Discerning a vocation is one of the most traumatic experiences a faithful young Catholic goes through. It is especially traumatic because it can go on for years, and includes dramatic shifts from one vocation to another. Shifts that are sometimes peaceful, sometimes passionate, often difficult, and occasionally angry.

However, there is something even more traumatic . . . that is, after fully committing to one vocation, you still have serious doubts about your choice.

When Adults Struggle with their Vocations

I’ve read books by ex-priests and by divorced people who still struggled with their vocation after ordination or marriage (I won’t mention their books here because I don’t want to support their writings, which are often anti-Catholic, but if you send me an email I might share the authors with you).

I’m not talking about the occasional thought about what life would be like if a person had made a different choice. I am married, love being married, and have no doubt that this is the vocation God called me to. And even I occasionally wonder what life would be like if I had entered a monastery–that though usually pops up on days when I have to race a kid to the doctor, make sure my rent gets paid, fix the lawn mower . . . oh yeah, and find time to go to work, then get home and pass out only to be woken up at midnight to change a screaming baby’s diaper while I’m half asleep and accidentally put the diaper on the wrong end . . . on those days, sure, I do wonder what the monastic life would have been like. But wondering is different than doubting, and I’ve never doubted my vocation–there’s too much love here.

God has blessed me with a peaceful heart about my vocation, but I wonder why some people don’t find peace after they are married or ordained. After reading a few books by people who were unhappy about their vocation, I am willing to make a guess; their writings give me the impression that they struggled with Christ’s love. Feeling Christ’s love from others, understanding Christ’s love, and, most importantly, sharing Christ’s love by the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Advice from Pope Benedict XVI about Discernment

If you are discerning a vocation, the first thing you should do is surround yourself with people of deep faith who are capable of sharing Christ’s love with you; Start with your family (if possible), then with your church (if possible). Seek Christ’s love for the rest of your life. Share Christ’s love for the rest of your life.

“Prayer itself, born in Catholic families, nurtured by programs of Christian formation, strengthened by the grace of the sacraments, is the first means by which we come to know the Lord’s will for our lives. To the extent that we teach young people to pray, and to pray well, we will be cooperating with God’s call. Programs, plans and projects have their place; but the discernment of a vocation is above all the fruit of an intimate dialogue between the Lord and his disciples. Young people, if they know how to pray, can be trusted to know what to do with God’s call.” Pope Benedict XVI [emphasis mine]

What The Rest of Us Can Do

For the rest of us, the best way for us to help someone discern their vocation is to fill their lives with love by listening to them and by praying with them. Listening to them is a key part of ministering to them; we must focus our ears so we can hear their hearts. Our goal is to help them filter out the noise the devil fills our lives with and to hear God inside.

“When he listens to his conscience, the prudent man can hear God speaking” (CCC 1777).

And after the choice has been made, we should continue to love them the way Christ taught us.

St. Therese of Lisieux said, “My vocation is love.”

This has got to be the epitome of Dad-cooking.

A long time ago, before Richard the Deuce abandoned me for big-city youth ministry, we had a Souperbowl fundraiser (Soup, salad, and a bread bowl after the Sunday masses on Superbowl Sunday). One of the parents gave us this recipe. It was our bestseller and has become my all-time favorite soup.

Rule 1: Don’t measure anything.

Ingredients:

• Tomato Soup
• Croutons
• Shredded Mozzarella Cheese
• Oregano or Italian spices mix
• Pepperoni

Instructions:

Mix, heat, pray, eat, pray again and thank Jesus for Pizza Soup.

Of all the titles I have the ones that mean the most to me cost the least, and I really didn’t do anything to deserve them.

On the day my son was born I remember feeling embarrassed whenever someone called me “dad.” I didn’t feel like I deserved the title; I hadn’t changed a single poopy diaper, I hadn’t lost any sleep, and I hadn’t made any financial sacrifices. But I was still a dad.

I had a similar experience when I was Baptized, Confirmed, and received First Communion at the Easter Vigil years ago. I remember being lightheaded because I was overwhelmed by the feeling of God’s love and humbled by being forgiven when I knew I had done nothing for God . . . when I knew I had done so much against God. But I was still a child of God.

In contrast, the day I received my Bachelor’s degree, I remember feeling underwhelmed. As I stood in line waiting for my name to be called, I felt guilty because I wasn’t more excited, and I wondered if the other graduates were feeling the same way. I spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours working for that title, but I almost never think about it, I have no idea where my diploma is, and that title is no where near as important as “dad.”

As I sat at the Easter mass with my beautiful family, I kept thanking God for giving me all these people. And with each relationship comes a title that God blessed me with before I did anything to deserve them. I am a child of God, a husband, a dad, a son, a brother, and a youth minister.

The trip went well. After my wife dropped my son and me off at the airport we found out the flight was delayed, so he ran around the airport for a couple hours and then passed out on the plane. Perfect!

The house we stayed at wasn’t baby-proofed at all, so I haven’t sat down for more than 10 minutes straight all weekend. But one amazing thing happened because of that; my son and I somehow bonded even more than we already were. I always try to give him a couple hours each day, and I thought we had a great relationship, but spending every minute with him (minus the time I had best-man duties during the wedding) has taken us to a whole new level. He smiles a little bigger at me, and he likes to hold my hand a little more. He even seems calmer now. . .

My wife stays at home, so the bond she has with our kids must feel amazing. I believe staying home with our kids is hard work, but I can’t help being a little jealous of the relationship they have. I’m glad the three of them get to share that much love.

My family is amazing.

Thanks for your prayers.

Tomorrow morning we’re flying to Texas for a wedding. I’m a little nervous about how our son is going to handle two hours in a seat when he is used to running around all day. I searched the web for advice, and most sites said pretty much the same thing: “Distract the kids with everything you’ve got.”

We called up one of our friends to see if they would let us use their portable DVD player and we found out that they had just flown the same airline with their kids and had all kinds of great stories to tell us. Their daughter had just seen the new Superman movie and by some strange coincidence (is there ever a normal coincidence?) a tall, dark-haired man wearing a glasses and a superman t-shirt was in the airport. Their daughter was stunned and told everybody on the plane that Superman was flying outside holding up their plane. The flight attendants and the other passengers were all very nice, and played along.

I think the best advice we got was “relax, focus on taking care of your kids, and the other fliers will take care of themselves.” So we’re packing light - a LeapFrog and a DVD player with a couple of VeggieTales. And I’m looking forward to the airplane-shaped cookies that they give parents . . . I mean kids.

Pray for my family this weekend.