"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" a little voice in the back of my head asked.

"I mean do you really know what you're about to do? What you are giving up?"

I don't think it was the voice of the Enemy or some malignant Force trying to steal my vocation at the last minute. Rather that little voice that spoke came from me. It's a voice that people who've made commitments are probably familiar with: a voice that - after all the planning, excitement, invitations, preparation, and prayer - drives home the greatest question of the day: Am I doing the right thing?

Mental prayer is a big part of Capuchin life. It's an important time for me to spent time with God in a manner that best fits me. Sometimes I pray the rosary or other devotions, sometimes I sit in silence and try to be open to what the Spirit is telling me. Sometimes I write and end up posting the composite here online. Regardless of how I pray, the time is always beneficial and is usually focused on good thoughts and ideas for the future.

Sometimes, however, those thoughts are shadowed by others...making mental prayer a disturbing or even torturous time.

Sorry I haven't written more. I've been spending a lot of time in prayer and really trying to figure out where I am right now. There have been times this past week I've felt stretched: between being a novice in Pittsburgh and being a friar in Chicago; between being a "Father" at a church and being a "Father" as a parental role; between defining myself by what I do and defining myself by the journey I'm taking.

All of this is deep, and perhaps someday when they ask me to write my memoirs of Religious Life I'll write it. But as of late, I've been keeping a lot of thoughts between me and my directors who can help me sort through things.

However I'm starting to fall back into the swing of Novitiate. St. Catherine of Sweden here in Pittsburgh is having a Garage Sale to drive money, and I'm trying to finish a Wall Rosary for them to sell. I'm still studying up on my math to prepare for the placement test I'll have to take in the fall. And a few of us were asked to play music at a Catholic Underground event here in Pittsburgh...an event that's had me practicing (and sometimes stressed) until we play on Saturday.

I still need to get pictures up from Triduum in Milwaukee. Give me some time as I get back into the swing of blogging, especially after taking the long break for Lent.

99 days left of Novitiate. It seems so close, yet so far.

I should explain up fron that there's a difference between my vocation and my focus. In my prayer and my thoughts I am happy at the thought of taking first vows this summer. I enjoy Morning Prayer & Mass with the commmunity (even if I'm not a morning person), and when people ask me where I see myself in 5 or 10 years, I answer: "As a Capuchin." I have no fear of losing my calling to be a friar, priest, and whatever else God has in store for me.

But I wonder about my focus. I'm having trouble being present to the Novitiate Program lately. The chance to go home (I already talk about Chicago & Milwaukee as home) for Easter has a huge effect on me. It reminded me of the ministries and encounters that got me initially fired up about being a Capuchin. I got to see friars from my province, friars who pray for my success and perseverence. It is a warm feeling to have so many people rooting for you; it's like having your own cheering section.

The drive back from Chicago to Pittsburgh was tough. I felt like an inmate who got 4 days leave. The days were wonderful, but I had to deal with the hurt of going back to Pittsburgh and leave everyone behind. I don't know that I've mentally returned here to Novitiate. I dont know that I completely ever will.

Another big factor in my life has been reconnectiong with my daughter. There are a lot of emotions here, and despite my usually habit of "diving in," we've been taking things slow. This time around I have the support of other fathers (with their own adult daughters), spiritual advisors, and plenty of psychologists (there are plenty in the Order). I feel better equipped to talk to this 19 year old woman who still calls me Dad. By talking openly about our thoughts and establishing good boundaries, I feel I can be a positive influence in her life.

There are those who worry, and I acknowledge their concerns. Some know the story of my break-up with my ex, others experienced it. But I think there's a part of me, maybe the part that never knew my own father or had anyone willing to take up the job, that considers it a gift from God to hear: "You are and always will be my Dad." Is that me being responsible? Idealistic? Am I trying to prove that I'm better than the man that fathered me? These are the things I talk to God about.

I think these events are both positives and can help me be a better friar. I just need to get my head back in the game.

I've watched the movie Rudy more times than I can count, but I always cry at the end of the movie...without fail. And in all honesty, who wouldn't? Rudy's lifted up on the shoulders of his fellow players after years of hard work, struggle, negative feedback, roadblocks, nay-sayers, and even a father who wasn't willing to appreciate his son's dream...it all comes together at the end of the movie.

It's a moment of achievement for everyone. We should all be inspired.

I find it easy to parallel this image of awe-inspiring inspiration with Jesus as he's helped onto the colt's back...preparing to enter into Jerusalem as a king. The multitudes are singing; cloaks cover the road. The words of the Pharisees are drowned out by the elation of the disciples.

It's a great day to be one of the faithful, but it lasts only for a few days.

For many who are searching to connect with God, or those doing their best to follow a religious vocation like me, our faith can be just as elating. There are moments in life when we know we have spoken with the Divine, we know why we are here, and we are positive on how we will live the rest of our lives. The grace of God allows that, and anyone who's had a "God moment" will tell you how the immensity of such an encounter can barely be put into words.

Yet our lives are not full of these moments. The "Rudy Moments" are rare (at least in my experience), and they are the strongholds that provide us refuge in times of great desolation. Yet in these moments of desolation, the times when we call out for God and we wonder if anyone is really listening...these are the times when we learn to grow our faith the most.

In reading and reflecting on the Gospel for Palm Sunday, I thought about the challenges I face as a novice and what the Scripture is saying to me. And one of those challenges is to be able to perservere even when I feel that I'm not as close to God as I should be, or I'm not being good enough to wear the habit and cord. I still remember the moment I felt called to a religious vocation, but it resides in my mind with numerous concerns for schooling, dealing with celibacy, living in community, and even living with my own doubts.

My challenge is to be one of the multitude that continues to praise my faith, even after the cheers, crowds, and other festivies have gone. When Jesus was crucified, only a few of his disciples were there. And when sky darkened...those disciples came back - beating their breasts in guilt. Even when it's hard to be a Catholic, a man, a friar, or even a Mexican-American...the challenge is to keep the faith and remember the presence of God.

Picture from 1SkyWalker

As I continue to re-issue posts from my first blog, an attempt before creating my current blog at http://vocationstory.blogspot.com (Pardon the gross self-promotion), I want to share an old prayer of discernment I'd written.

I was rather shocked at how much this spontaneous prayer sounded like the famous prayer of Thomas Merton. I had no clue who Thomas was or about his journey; I would have started reading his works immediately if I knew how much of his life pertained to my current way of thinking.

The post also provides a brief understanding of the importance of prayer. Sometimes we feel it’s hard to talk to God. How do we find the words to say what we truly mean?

There’s many different ways of praying...the hardest part is often making the time and the commitment. Even before knowing about the Divine Office, Lexio Divina, or the other numerous forms of prayer, I was able to use prayer as a reminder of my vocation – in hopes that I would keep this journey at the forefront of my mind.

Peace and all good, -V

Lord,

I am searching. I have heard your call; let me understand your plan for me so I can follow your way. I am so confused at this point, dear Lord. Help me have the patience to wait for your plan to become clear to me. Give me the strength to live in your footsteps, and grant me the courage to act when you plan is finally revealed to me...regardless of wherever it is.

Amen.

Something I’ve started since discerning is the ritual of prayer. It’s been a looong time since I’ve taken the time to talk to God, yet I’ve restarted the practice – in the morning and evening. I was late for work today, but even in my rush to get to work I took time to stop and pray...simply asking for God to reveal His plan for me and for the strength I so need in this hard time of my life.

The nature of prayer is honestly still a mystery to me. Sometimes prayer feels fulfilling, even inspiring. Other times I wonder if I’m praying to some Divine Answering Machine (begin your intentions after the beep).I don’t know if there’s a way I’m supposed to talk to God, or if depends on the situation.

In spite of the confusion, I still feel it is beneficial. I might only have started just recently, but it gives me a sense of peace and reminds me of my ultimate goal each day. I’m sure there are prayer books and structured methods to pray, however I’m not familiar with any of them, nor do I have any of those books. If all else fails, I still have my rosary.

I just hope I wake up with enough time tomorrow!

I found out this weekend that G.T Autos, the dealership where I'd made my success in the car business, is now for sale. While I haven't sold cars in years, I found myself sad at the news.

Most of all I am sad for Elvis, my old boss. When I started, as you can read in my older posts, we got together with the intention of making a boatload of money...and we did. I remember checks and piles of cash stored away as we claimed ourselves as kings of the car sales world. His goal was to create a large enough business so he and his family (I'm pictured with his dad above) could be set. I only wanted to pay off my past debt and prepare the way for Capuchin life.

Even though my Bosnian boss couldn't understand who the Capuchins were or why I was going, he fully supported my in my decision. He and his family were Muslim, and while they were not of my faith, they respected my choice to follow this vocation. He was energetic, funny, and I knew he would succeed at his dream.

With the bad economy and the hit to auto makers, part makers, and sales lot across Michigan, I suppose it was only time before he closed up shop. I feel bad for him and his family. All of us have dreams, and when those dreams are taken away it forces us to change direction and find a new way to live.

In a way I also feel guilty. Perhaps my leaving was so well-timed, I wonder if I sub-consciously knew what was going to happen and made plans for it. It seems ridiculous, yet I feel that I found a way out of the business before I faced any of the loss.

I also realize that my "fall-back plan" is now gone. Where I to leave the Capuchins, Elvis always promised me a job at the lot. With the lot gone, I am at the mercy of the economy should I try make that decision. I've never considered leaving religious life, yet I'm a person who likes to have "all bases covered." As selfish as it sounds, I have a sense of anxiety about the closing of G.T Autos.

I remember my last discussion with him: "You're lucky you got out when you did. Things have gotten really bad. I don't know how much longer I can keep the doors open on this place."

Sometimes it's hard to feel you've done the right thing when you know others you care about are suffering hundreds of miles away.

This post was originally planned for Monday/Tuesday. However due to unforeseen events that unfolded at that time, the issue of losing yet another postulant took a back seat, not only for my blog but in real life as well. -V

Saturday, another person decided to leave the Capuchin Postulancy. Unlike the last guy, this recent departure struck me as a loss to the Order, to the community, and to me. I've been processing this loss over the weekend. In many ways, dealing with it has been a grieving process.

The second guy from our province chose to leave about a week ago, during the road trip to New York. His choice was mostly ideological. Our province has always been the "liberal" province, even though I find little differences in my travels and experiences of other friars. Our house was also very "Democratic." I think he was the only one who was pulling for McCain during last year's election. He was also very ritualistic and legalistic, choosing to attend an Ukrainian Orthodox Mass on Sundays, rather than the several Capuchin parishes in Milwaukee.

In spite of these differences between he and I, he was a good guy, and a very close part of the community here. And there were times that I really felt that the fraternity would outweigh any political differences. However last week, during the ride home, he told us that he'd been questioning how he fit in with the province since he got here. And after truly trying to look beyond those differences, he felt he would do much better in a community more like him.

My first reaction was that of anger. Why would he choose to paint the entire province with this liberal label? Many of the guys have different views based on experience, ministry, upbringing, and their own values. I couldn't understand how one could assume "This province just isn't for me."

Upon his actual departure, I looked past my anger and told him the simple truth: that he would be missed, and that I still thought of him as my brother. I have a hard time with expression of feelings sometimes, and I think he understood that me saying something like that was huge. It was almost a teary-eyed affair, but like good, strong men we managed to hold back such things.

Since then, our community dynamic has changed noticeably. There is less conflict, less arguing, and less stress for a lot of us. I don't know if that means he needed to go. I don't know if that means we wanted him to go. I know that I wish he hadn't, as it has made all of us question our true intentions for being here in this program.

For the past few days, I haven't had much energy after getting home from ministry. This week has been pretty busy; I wish I had time to talk more about those things, but this recent development with the woman I used to call my daughter has greatly over-shadowed much of this week.

I find myself checking my email inbox over and over, being afraid when I actually see a new message, and then dying again when it's from reunion.com or an ad from soccer.com. I don't know what to expect, I don't know if I should expect, but this feeling that I have is a sense of loss, a sense of failure, and a tiny hope that perhaps I can, in some way, reach out and try to mend a broken relationship with someone I still worry about.

Last night, I dreamed I was in a relationship again. The woman I was with resembled someone I work and interact with in ministry, something that was covered in a previous post about dreams. Anyway, we were in a relationship and she was pregnant (not showing), but the kicker was that I was public knowledge that it was not my child. In spite of that, I wanted to be with her and be a father to the child, regardless of the father.

We'd moved in with my uncle (at least when he used to live in Michigan...now he lives in California) to kind of prepare and save money for the baby. It's quite appropriate that I thought of him; when my mom had me and she was by herself, we stayed with him when I was young (3-4) and even a few of those old memories entered into that dream.

But while we were there, it became clear that my family had serious worries about what I was doing. Some of my aunts told me that it was not my child, and that I shouldn't make it my responsibility. Some of them thought she was using me because I was trying to be a nice guy to both her and her baby. Some thought I was even being stupid, and I needed to start my own family. Without revealing the actual identity of the person, I can say that we both come from vastly different cultural and racial backgrounds, and there was this sense that they wanted me to have a Latino child.

At some point, when I was running around and trying to get things ready (as if this were all happening tomorrow!) she ran out of the house, crying and upset. When I confronted her, she was hateful and resentful of me. She said she wanted to go her own way. She said she didn't need me. When I told her that I loved her and cared for her AND the baby, she said something so grossly offensive and hurtful, I don't think I can even put it down in print (knowing full well that in reality it came from my subconscious and not her lips). Upon waking up, I found myself crying.

I know I'm dealing with a loss; I don't know if others understand it. My community has been supportive because they have seen how much this has rocked me in the past few days. But my situation is one I can't talk about to celibate men who've never had kids, how can they relate to my loss of being a father?

There's a lot of anger and resentment and hurt inside of me, and the best I can do is offer it up to God. If this is my cross, then I will do my best to bear it. More importantly, if this is the sacrifice I made to be here, to follow the calling I was given, I'm going to have to learn to trust that God will heal all wounds.

I just don't know when I'll get to that point...

I never thought that living here would bring me the pain of a broken heart ever again. As much as I tried, I thought I put my old life behind me in exchange for this new one. Yet today I sat and did one of the most heart-wrenching and painful things in my life...

I wrote an email to the girl I once called my daughter.

When I was together with my ex-girlfriend, she had a daughter. Her daughter was full of life, energy, and love. Without reservation, she called me "Daddy" when we were together. And just reading that word again makes my stomach knot up at the heartache of losing that.

Recently she turned 18...no longer a girl, but a woman in her own right. Her mother asked that I never contact her again; I've kept to that agreement, no matter how painful it was at times. She was not my blood, and I respected the bond between mother and daughter.

However now that she has become an adult, I took the chance to write one email, as if it were the only words left I could say, in hopes that she might understand exactly what she meant to me. As a religious, I realize that she will be the only daughter I will ever know, and I fucked up the one chance of being a good role model, a positive male figure, and a stable person in her life. I grew up an only child, and I know what it's like to have people come in and out of your life. I pray I did more good than harm.

Perhaps more importantly, she represents a sacrifice I made when choosing to pursue religious life. In choosing to follow a vocation, I chose not to continue a relationship, but with my ex and her daughter. I've managed to hide from that realization, but now I feel the guilt from that decision.

The email wasn't long. I thanked her for allowing to be a part of her life. I told her I was proud of the woman she had become, and that I wished only good things for her and her mother. Lastly, and with a heavy heart, I told her that I would respect whatever decision she made about the email, including if she chose never to speak to me again.

I have tried to be a good guy all my life, however I realize that there are people in this world that I have hurt. I would love to heal all wounds I created and offer apologizes to everyone. However I've learned that some people have deeper wounds than can be healed by words. And I've learned to accept that sometimes, you lose people forever.

I don't know what to expect in a response. She may not even respond at all. I thought the hard part would be writing the actual message. In reality, it was hitting the send button, knowing that I would be scared to check my email for the next two weeks...and that feeling of pain when I saw no response.

I also try to be a tough guy, but today I as thought about what to do, I looked back on an earlier post, and I couldn't help but cry.

After a week-long discernment retreat, I decided to take a trip up to our boarding school St. Lawrence Seminary in Mt. Calvary, WI. I know I intended on writing more about my week of discernment, however a lot of it became extremely personal and introspective. I share a lot about my life here, however there are some things I choose to keep to myself.

I can tell you that the experience was beneficial, and it affirmed a lot of my feelings about where my life is headed. I can also tell you that I would have had a better experience had I gotten away and had time to reflect longer on the process.

As a way to reconnect with that sense of silence and retreat, I decided to spend the weekend at St. Lawrence. While it is a high school, I'll have access to a guest room where I'll be able to have a sense of quiet and relaxation from the "noises" here in Milwaukee. It will give me a chance to think, relax, and perhaps catch up on my blog posts.

It's also a chance for me to play some soccer with the students. I got to know most of the seniors as they came to St. Ben's for the Urban Plunge Event. Many of them are soccer players, and are nice enough to not make fun of me when I try to play with them. It's an opportunity to be a little bit competitive, and pretend I can still hang with the boys.

After this weekend, we'll start a week of Masculine Spirituality. We will be in Springfield, IL for the week. I can see sharing more about that retreat week than about my discernment week. Masculine Spirituality is an interesting subject, and I think it's something all guys need to take a look at.

So I wish everyone a good weekend. I can't guarantee the scheduling of my posts for the weekend, however I will try to keep everyone in the loop.

There are days I don't want to do anything. I don't want to study, I don't want to read, I don't want to interact...I don't even want to pray. There are times I don't know what I want to do; I just have feelings of apathy towards the world.

Part of this is due to my epilepsy. The medication I take is called Dilantin, and I take 600mg a day to keep from having seizures. Anyone who's ever been on seizure medication will tell you that the common side effects are drowsiness and lethargy. While I've been taking my medication for over 18 years, there are times when I still must fight these symptoms.

That's not to say it's entirely due to my medication. I don't like to make excuses for my actions anymore, so I realize there is a part of me that prefers to disconnect from the world. It is a rare part of me, and it only rears its listless head every now and then. I think it's a side-effect from working too hard, dealing with a cold, and getting off a routine. I still haven't adjusted my body to being back in Milwaukee since Christmas, and 3 times this week I woke up late for morning prayer. Half of me was angry with myself for not being more responsible. The other half of me simply didn't care.

As odd as this sounds for someone in my position, this is entirely part of the process of discerning a vocation. We as humans live in consolation or desolation with God. We may believe, but we may choose not to enjoy that love or follow that desire. It angers me that I am this way when I am choosing to live a religious life, but there is some safety in knowing that I am still me, and that I am being selected on who I am as a person...even if that means I turn into a depressed, emo friar every now and then.

Times like these come and go. When I start to experience this type of feeling, there's a few things I try to do and avoid:

1. I try and avoid huge decisions. If I feel I'm living a lie and that I really don't have a vocation, I don't make a decision to leave. I address those feelings in prayer the best I can, or I discuss them with my peers or spiritual director.

2. I try to designate what I don't want to do from what I don't wish to do. I may not want to go to ministry, but I don't wish that I didn't have to work there. I may not want to pray one morning, but that does not mean I wish I could stop attending morning prayer. By having an internal dialogue with myself, I realize that this is a temporary mindset.

3. If it is only temporary, then I continue to do those things I don't want to, because I know that I've received pleasure from those things in the past. For me to stop eating dinner with my community or any other activity is to make a decision that may effect my future pleasure.

There are even times when I don't want to write this blog. That thought has no actual basis, I just don't feel like it at times. However I know that this is something that gives me pleasure, release, and a sense of therapy. It is also the basis for a ministry that I hope to involve the Capuchins with. Therefore, while I might have the desire to just not write anything, I try to be honest and say whatever I can.

I apologize if I don't always exemplify the positive, heroic image of a man who's given up worldly things to follow the Call of God. I'm still a regular guy dealing with regular things. But by being able to express my feelings in a sincere and open medium, there exists a form of reflection and contemplation that brings about a unique type of spiritual healing.

While I'd hoped the previous entry would have helped heal some of my heartache, I found that even today I was still thinking about the time spent online. It is something I keep rather personal; I feel other people can't understand or maybe cannot see past the initial idea of a video game being a means to help someone begin to understand religious life.

The biggest reason I dwell on this as an issue is because it will not be the last time I have to deal with such feelings. What happens in 5-6 years when I miss going through the formation process with my classmates? What happens in 20 years when I miss a parish or ministry that I presided at? What happens when I'm old and can't get out of my wheelchair...trapped in the memories of the past that I cannot return to?

I spoke of this in generalities with my formation director. He was wonderful in not pressing details, and gave me a few things to think about as I continue to work through this rather unique time in my life.

Many of us remember things in our life that when they are gone, it is like losing someone we loved. The experiences, the memories, the change in our life which are the fruit of such things...all of those are linked with with grieving process. While his words made sense, even I found it hard to really try and grieve for a character made to exist in a fake world.

He continued to talk about healthy ways to express the good that is found in such things. He mentioned that because I liked to write, perhaps I could put such things down for me to read, and put them in the sense that they are not sad, but wonderful memories to be cherished.

He also talked about a symbolic death for whatever I was longing for. He explained that when I was ready to make peace and be able to let go of the past, that a symbolic death could be a way for me to kind of deal with the issue once and for all. It wouldn't be hard to just delete my character (which still exists in Sony's database). I don't know if I'm ready for that quite yet, even though I haven't seriously played the game in years.

I spent quite a bit of time thinking about this issue, although I am still not proud to talk about it in public. I think what I will do is log in one last time to visit the many places I remembered during those past 4 years, grab a few screenshots along the way, and begin to put down stories that I remember from my time there. While it may not be of interest for many of my readers, perhaps it will be something that benefits me and my journey to become closer to God.

My formator also told me he heard a lot of symbolism in my discussion of this topic; he said he could hear my reverence for whatever I was describing. He offered (gently) for me to begin and share that with the community here in Milwaukee, since I considered it so important to who I was. I told him of my fear of vulnerability, and that my personal EQ experience was like a special flower I kept hidden from the rest of the world. It was something I protected, something I cherished but refused to let others see for fear they would not understand. To share this part of my life is scary.

But perhaps that's where my catharsis will lie: in the telling of my entire story with pride and joy. To deny any part of my journey on this long, winding road is simply to lie to myself. To not say that a video game impacted my life is to deny everything about me that I never liked before finding my vocation. What I've learned is that God works with our faults and our quirks, and uses them for whatever means he sees fit.

Maybe I'll keep the stories here, perhaps I'll create a new blog for the gaming community; a place where such stories and memories can be shared with others who hold their EQ memories close like I do. I don't know exactly what my plan of action is, but I know I will do something I haven't done in a long time: face my fears, admit my weaknesses, and find a way to put this important time in my life down for others to see.

Okay, so maybe I'm being over-dramatic. But trust me: once you spend a day not being able to keep food or drink down, you might find yourself on your knees, with your hands on the porcelain throne, praying either for repentance or that The Almighty might strike you down and end your suffering.

Friday morning I awoke groggily. I debated going on my walk; I chose to lay down again. I considered getting up 15 minutes later; I rolled over in my bed. At 8:10AM I shot out of bed with a wave of nausea, thinking only about getting to the bathroom before staining the carpet. I still tried to work Friday, but after 3 more "trips" to the restroom, I decided to suffer alone and in the comfort of my bed rather than the office.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea - the point isn't to gross everyone out. While the affliction lasted only half a day (which was plenty long enough), I spent the weekend recovering from the dehydration and mal-nutrition effects.

First and foremost: no I was not drinking the night before. I have my share of This one time when we got really wasted stories; this is not one of them. I've come to four possible conclusions as to why I spent Friday in complete misery (seriously, I wasn't drinking!):

1. Egg Salad Poisoning. It's a well-publicized urban legend that eating gas-station egg-salad sandwiches will give you worms. Thursday evening, in our rush to get out to the fishing hole before the day's light ran out, I threw caution to the wind and decided that egg salad couldn't be as bad as they say. I ate the first part and let the other half sit for an hour in the car before finishing it up. Yum.
2. Malaria. I mentioned before how I had mosquito bites on top of my mosquito bites. Several nights spent fishing I was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt and shorts: a blood-sucker's free-for-all. Along with the stomach issues I had chills, a possible fever, and I couldn't focus my mind on anything. It seems that when you're sick, your mind fixates on the wildest thoughts.
3. Hydrochlorothiozide. I was prescribed this medication months ago to help control my blood pressure. Because of my hatred for pills, I never took them. Yet when I refilled my seizure medication last week, I decided to "man up" and start taking these meds as well. The episode could have been a huge side-effect to the medication.
4. The most probable answer - I incurred the Immediate and Omnipotent Wrath of the Almighty. Since hearing from the Capuchins that I had been accepted, my life hasn't changed much yet. In fact, I found myself slipping further back into my old ways-habits and activities that most would consider unproductive or un-Christian. I know He's given me nudges in a certain direction before; it's entirely possible a stronger nudge is used from time to time.

Regardless of why the episode happened, the real eye-opener for me was how my brothers from Chicago called and emailed me all Friday and Saturday, leaving messages of concern. Here I was, less than 100 days from starting a "new" path, and I'd almost found my way back down the spiral: I was smoking again, spending money without forethought, acting lazily and without thought to others, being selfish, slothful, lustful, envious...I'm not trying to be a person without sin, I'm trying to be a person who's aware of his sins.

I've spend the past week being "sales guy;" maybe deep inside, I'm still a little scared of what it means to be "religious guy."

Maybe I'll write a screenplay when this is all over, a big thick manuscript in perfect New Courier font, so that someday readers, family, friends, or just curious minds can see what it's like for someone to go from one extreme in life to the next.

If only there were some experience, something metaphoric, life-changing, and inspiring, that would prove to me, and just me, that this whole priest/friar/Franciscan thing is for real...

Fat Tuesday is usually a festive day mixed with paczkis and idealistic thoughts of giving up everything for Lent. However for me, I spent a lot of the time in contemplation and regret.

Between the bills and the job change, that final goal of paying off personal debt becomes harder and harder to reach. $3788 is not a huge amount; it averages to $630 a month. It's a realistic goal, unfortunately being a poker dealer again means I'll be lucky to get $800 a month.

This is not a fund raising blog, nor am I looking for handouts. Part of the reason I'm writing this is because I've chastized myself all day today for money that could have been better spent. I feel bad for leaving the car business, I feel bad for buying Chinese take-out yesterday, I feel bad because I should be free and clear from this problem already.

The reason that I've been so frustrated, even angry, is because it screws with my time table. I will go as far to say that God Himself is messing with my perfect schedule. The "plan" was to leave for Postulancy on August 1 with all debts paid and nothing left behind. Yet each large step comes with its own setback. First were the bills of the apartment ($2500). Then it was a change in job. Then there was the money used for my grandmother's last days ($700). In November I had the trip to ER ($2872). Now I am dealing cards again and making less money.

With each new expense, I feel like God doesn't want me to get to the finish line. I don't feel like I'm being dragged kicking and screaming into a vocation, rather I am running uphill and into the wind. Rather than a path through the woods, I feel like my discernment is a traffic jam: a long, frustrating maze of construction work and flashing lights that are confusing and painful, even though their goal is to make everything better. To think that God is hindering my journey is hurtful, but I'm starting to think that way.

I've talked with my Spiritual Director numerous times about "God's Plan vs. My Plan", and how the two are rarely ever the same. The argument I make is: "I am working towards religious life and eventually ordination, how could this not be His plan?" I never expected God to make this road any easier to travel, but to make it even tougher??? Am I being tested? Is God teasing me?

I realize I can't argue with a supernatural & all-powerful entity. I can't convince God that my way is the best way towards accomplishing this goal. I want to be in Chicago with the Capuchins this Fall. Spiritually, I don't know if that is God's plan for me.

I have to accept that He may have other plans and I'll still be in Grand Rapids on August 2.

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach when I think about it, like I just lost something huge. I don't want to give up, I don't want to admit I can't pay off this debt. I made a living of chasing goals and reaching them. "You can do anything!" is the line I was fed for years.

But this...today I had to admit for the first time that this is something completely different. If God's plan isn't for me to enter Postulancy this year, he has the power to make it so. And I can't fight that, nor can I distrust His plan.

I don't know if the lesson is patience, humility, or perseverence, but my journey is by no means finished. Only a month ago I felt like "coasting" the rest of the way. Now I realize the hardest days of discernment are yet to come. I pray that I am wrong, and will continue to pay off debts and prepare for Postulancy. However if that day comes and it's not in God's Plan, I'm sure I will know.

They told me at the beginning that "discernment without prayer was no discernment at all." Man, were they ever right.

Driving home from work after a stressful day, I heard the beat of Alicia Keys' new song No One coming through the speakers of the car. I've heard it many times before, but it was only after a good conversation with my spiritual director that a deeper meaning resonated from this track.

Earlier today, I had a wonderful lunch with my quirky yet contemplative S.D. We talked about vacations, my trip to Chicago, the Spiral of Life (I'll delve into this on another blog), and inevitably about my job. I explained how each day more and more people were learning about my vocation - poker players, charitable organizations I worked with, and fellow employees each learned about my desire to join the Capuchins in a new way. I talked about how their reactions were never against me, but usually something like: "Wow!" "Dude, that's crazy." "No way! Do you not like women anymore?" "I could never do something like that. That's pretty awesome to actually attempt something like that."

The thing she said afterwards resonated through my mind for the rest of the day: "No matter how hard you try, no matter how long you've known them, no matter how close you are, there are some people that will never see you as this type of person...and you should be at peace with that."

In this year plus that I've been discerning, there are those that see me differently because of my vocation. There are those that treat me just the same, and there are those that no longer talk to me. What she had told me made complete sense, and I realized that's still something I'm working on. I, like anyone else, seek validation for things via my friends and counterparts. When this "priest thing" first started, I told close friends because I wanted that affirmation - that response of: "Yeah, I think you'd make a great priest."

Unfortunately for men and women in my situation, that isn't always the case. Religious life is an esoteric calling. We are all called to be Christ-like, but not all are called to be sisters, monks, priests, or nuns. For those that neither understand nor agree with the role of religious life, we find it hard to get the same encouragement one might receive if discussing marriage or a career change.

All day, I thought about the responses I'd heard from co-workers, friends, and the like. While most were supportive, very few were able to bridge the gap of Vito the Guy and the Iconoclastic Ideal of A Priest. I realize I may never fit that perfect image, and I've done my best no say otherwise. Yet despite my attempts to "keep it real," the fact that some of my friends may never accept my decision is disheartening. For if others are not convinced of my vocation, how can I ever convince myself that this is not another crazy idea?

I spent the day with these thoughts, keeping them in the back of my mind. On my drive home, they creeped out of the locked box of my subconscious. There will be those that can never understand my call. There will be those that will never picture me as a friar, even if I wore the habit and the rosary hung from the twine cord. They were lonely thoughts, and I felt very depressed.

As the song began on the radio, I asked myself the key question that really matters with regards to discernment: "What is my motive?"

If indeed this was another crazy idea of mine, what is the motive behind my idea? If it were merely a backlash because of my bad relationship, would I worked as hard to pay off the debt and secure living arrangements for my mother and I? If this were some way to make my mom or my family happy, would I have included them more in my spiritual journey? I rarely go to the same Mass as my mom, and if I really wanted to make her happy, I'd just do the laundry or leave the toilet seat up.~

The thing that keeps me going is that I continue my journey out of a genuine love for God and happiness with my life. I don't plan on entering the Postulancy to impress my friends, to prove to anyone that I am a good person, or to show how apostolic I can be by working with the poor. My overwhelming love for God and his Eternal Grace is what lights my fire and drives me to live my life these days, and while I'm sad that not everyone can experience that kind of love, I know that no one, despite their words or actions, can ever steer me away from that source of power.

Perhaps her song was originally intended as a love song from woman to man, but as I hear it now, Alicia Keys' song: No One sounds like a triumphant praise of the Almighty, and how she will never be separated from His Grace. Needless to say, after hearing the song in this new light, I could not hold back that wavering tear.

Simply writing the lyrics does not convey the message of what I felt. So having read this, I give you the song again, and maybe some of you who find it hard for a guy like me to find a Calling towards the Capuchins can see, through my eyes, what it means to love God so much, you'd dedicate the rest of your life to serve Him....

With all this talk of religious life, brotherhood, and being accepted, it's only right that I ask myself a very important question: Why?

I found myself thinking, and my train of thought led me to a new and mysterious place. I felt the need to write it down, but it took a few days to actually construct the entire thought. I apologize for taking a few days to get this updated.

Taking the side of the advocatus dioboli for a few moments, it can be said that there's a romantic side to the notion of dedicating one's entire life to Christ. This charism of helping people in need, leading a moral and just life, teaching others, exhibiting traits such as chivalry, piety, and obedience - all those things are highly reminiscent of the knights of old.

As we've seen in the media, the epic struggle of good versus evil, of finding one's purpose in life, of being chosen for a specific purpose, and the fulfilling of a destiny are all plotlines and stories that have kept us enraptured. Whether it be the story of King Arthur, the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien, or even the Star Wars saga by George Lucas, it's plainly obvious that stories with this high fantasy storyline draw the hearts and minds of many people.


We enjoy these stories because the show the struggle of good conquering evil. We see how powerful forces aid the chosen people in their time of need. We are immersed in a world where we don't worry about wearing the newest outfit or driving the coolest car. The people who are most revered are those considered honorable, charitable, heroic, and a champion for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Is it not surprising that people would want to live out these fantasies? The popularity of Role Playing Games such as Dungeons & Dragons and Palladium has continued to grow over the 30 years of existence. While it is estimated that 4 million people world-wide play the pencil and paper version of D&D, the growth has continued via the internet, where it's estimated that some 20 million people play World of Warcraft in China alone.

I've mentioned before how I used to play Everquest, an MMORPG with a plotline similar to the Lord of the Rings. There are dragons to slay, castles to pillage, magic treasure to find, and an entire world to explore as a haughty fighter, a shiny paladin, or even a wise priest.

I also mentioned the existence of guilds: player-made groups to help achieve common goals and develop a closer sense of community - working together as a unit (family, brotherhood, team). Keeping in theme with the epic stories such as Chronicles of Narnia and the Dragonlance series, players often tried to emulate that sense of chivalry, honor, loyalty, and of course victory.

Here's an example from an Everquest guild called Sapientia:

The Sapientia of today is not a pure raiding
guild. We endeavor to maintain a balance between building bonds of
enduring trust, respect and friendship among our members on the one hand and
coming together as a single force to vanquish all mobs that dare stand in our
way on the other hand. There are days when we raid for hours at a time,
and there are days when we relax and do a little tradeskilling or questing or
exploring or whatever strikes our fancy; it's what we enjoy most out of the game
and it's how we define fun. Our community is casual in the sense that we
do not have planned raids every day and attendance is never strictly
mandatory. Even the way we distribute loot is not based on "points"
accumulated through raid attendance. Yet we almost always enjoy tremendous
participation in our raids and events by our members. It's a testament to
our guild that so many of our members cheerfully take part in what we do without
being compelled to do so.

With such an overwhelming influence of this fantasy world, along with the obvious attraction to that sense of brotherhood, family, or just a sense of belonging, is it possible that this entire thing about feeling called to a religious life is just an extension of that fanatical attraction come to life?


For many years, I belonged to a similar guild known as The First Seal. We stood for loyalty, truthfulness, humility, helping others, and many of those same charisms that most people would never associate with a video game. How is one truly honorable in a video game?

The best way to describe it is this: in an anonymous setting like the internet where people can assume any persona they wish, there were those of us who didn't want to be the malicious, scamming, offensive, childish, stalking, selfish, greedy players. We wanted to bring something good to this "online world."

As I look back, I must admit how wonderful it felt to be included in something like that. Even my nom de guerre, Severaen, was a tribute of yet another high fantasy character Severian, of the Gene Wolfe series. I've not played EQ in over a year, yet there are times I wish that guild still existed; and there are times I wish the sense of brotherhood had never gone away. And there, right there, is where I must truly question my intentions.

Am I actually so devoted to God that I am willing to sacrifice possessions, a wife, and the freedom of being on my own to be part of a religious order? Or am I looking for that next fix of chivalry, inclusion, and obedience? Are not the Capuchin Franciscans a guild writ large (well, writ real); where instead of slaying virtual monsters on the internet, they fight monsters such as hunger, poverty, sickness, and famine on the streets of our cities? If my desire leads me towards a religious life, is it because God put that desire there, or because I'm trying to carry on where a video game left off? Am I trying to be a knight in shining armor, or a humble servant of God?

The squires of the Middle Ages, on the eve before achieving knighthood, were bathed and dressed in a white robe, gave their confession to a priest, fasted that evening, and kept vigil all night - preparing their spirit for the duty they were committing to. I can admit to myself that I am drawn to that kind of devotion, an overt display to God and to others that I wish to devote my life to the service of others. Yet is this idealistic ceremony the only draw for me? Will I become bored after committing myself? Will I find I've made the wrong decision? Are my desires blinding me to the message I should be receiving from God?

My situation is a unique and complicated one. It's taken days to actually follow the line of thought, yet now that it's all written out, I can see a correlation between that fantasy life of being Severaen and this new life of possibly being Fr. Vito Martinez, O.F.M. Cap. I'm not worried that Sev was a fake part of my personality, or that I attempted to make others happy without being true to who I was. I feel the opposite: I'd like to think that being Severaen opened me up to accepting some of those traits in real life and not just on a video game.

My worry is that I cannot log off of real life. When I was done being a hero, I simply turned off my computer. When I didn't want to slay Quarm or be that chivalrous ranger, I didn't have to play the game. Am I ready to live up to that kind of morality each day of my life, or will I grow tired of it, just as I've grown tired of Everquest, and eventually disappoint myself and the others who have prayed for me thus far?

Perhaps the answer to the ultimate question "Why?" isn't that traditional, Catholic, response: "To save my soul and the souls of others." Maybe when they ask me "Why?" I'll tell them "Because I still want to be a hero."

While some of you might not understand the confusion I face, perhaps you can leave with a smile, knowing that someone who wanted to be a hero, a vanquisher of evil, a defender of the people, considers the Capuchin Franciscans and all religious orders to be capable of the same heroism as the fabled paladins. =)

With everything going on, I'm taking a short break to visit my friends in Chicago, the Capuchin Franciscans of the St. Joseph Province. It's a chance to speak with the postulants, meet other men who are discerning a vocation, and also have a retreat of sorts...allowing me to focus on where my life is headed.

I had a wonderful time at the last BBQ, and I felt a great connection with the friars as well as the Order. So much of my life is reflected in the life of St. Francis, so much of the charism is in tune with my desires, maybe this is where God is calling me.

Only one other fear exists: can I handle it?

I follow the journey of a Capuchin postulant as he chronicles his time. After his first week, he must choose where to dedicate his ministry for that year: a school for under-privileged kids, a drug rehab center for men, an elderly care center for people with special needs, and several other outreach programs focused on the impoverished. I can imagine it being a tough choice.

But do I have the personal strength of will to handle that sort of ministry? Sure, the work these people do is amazing and wonderful, but am I ready to go from the idea of helping the needy to actually doing it? What if I can't handle the kids...especially when they all speak Spanish?! How do I relate to a man who's overcoming an alcohol addiction? What if I don't feel that love that St. Francis spoke so much about, but revulsion and disgust? Am I a bad person? Would it mean I don't have what it takes for a religious vocation?

Perhaps I can find a way to participate in those types of ministries now, and find out what my heart is telling me.

For this weekend, I'll just focus on eating, having a good time with the brothers, and listening for Someone to speak to me.

I received a call from Fr. Bill Hugo, director of the Capuchins Vocation office this afternoon. We spoke briefly, making plans for the upcoming BBQ and possibly taking some time to visit the Capuchin parishes in Chicago.

Similar to my trip to St. Louis, I was asked to help transport another possible candidate to the event. I've never had a problem with this...in fact I find it enjoyable to speak "off the record" with other discerning guys. A part of me feels a sense of camaraderie; through our experiences we share a bond. However there's another part of me that I keep at bay: the part with the metaphorical ruler and scale.

Meeting others working towards the priesthood has been a blessing and proverbial curse. Because of my insecurities as a Catholic, I often size myself against other prospects, trying to compare the competition. Are they competition? Not really, but having roots in the sales business, it's hard to befriend colleagues without wondering "Is this guy better than me?"

When Fr. Hugo told me about my trip-guest, I immediately went on guard. He was a few years younger than me; young enough to still be in college. He'd been talking with the OFM Caps for some time, and was interested in one of the Spanish parishes. To top it all off, Father let it slip that my guest will be ready for the postulancy.

Slow down, slow down. I'm visiting for the first time, and I have to size up to a kid who's ready to dive right in? The trip's two weeks away, and already I can feel the impending pressure to dive in along side him...or try to jump in first, just so I can beat him to it. Can I let this kid become a priest before me? What qualifies him over me? What makes him a better Catholic than me?

Maybe we'll arm-wrestle, and the loser has to apply to Opus Dei.

My approach might sound pretentious or even self-righteous, but I assure you this pendulum of emotion swings both ways. While I might portray competition, I'm really covering my jealousy. I've met Catholics who've never strayed, men who've dreamed of joining the priesthood their entire lives. I've spoken with guys who've never made a wrong step, college kids who know more theology than I'll ever know, and guys who are fluent in Spanish, where I can't even speak it as a Mexican.

I've been a bouncer, a DJ, a computer tech, a salesman, and many other things in my life. While I dabbled in each field, I met people who specialized in each of these vocations. These people excelled at what they did, and never thought about doing anything else. I looked up to such individuals for having the drive, perseverance, and aptitude to excel at their chosen profession. Now that I'm seriously pursuing my vocation, I see the same situation. How does someone like me compete with "more qualified" candidates?

Sometimes I think the need for priests is the only reason vocation directors are willing to let me visit.

There's two weeks until the trip to Chicago...two weeks to reconcile my insecurities about my faith, about myself, and about my calling. It's just so damn hard to see things as equal, and not "better or worse."

/sigh

Much of the music that I've found inspiring relates to my calling, both to the faith and the priesthood. I don't feel I ever truly "lost faith," but just last year I was far from living a Catholic life. As I journey, I carry the weight of many mistakes on my shoulders.

I've learned that this disposition is not mine alone. While others may shy away from celibacy, community life (within an Order), or a meager lifestyle, the hardest part for many discerning man and woman is answering the question: "Am I good enough?"

While I would never doubt God's intention, I fear that He may have been calling me for quite some time; but after a life of self-indulgent retardation, perhaps it's too late for someone as pathetic as myself to actually become a priest. When my thoughts become despondent, a song from the musical project Enigma helps to improve my state of mind.



If the name Enigma doesn't ring a bell, think "Gregorian Chant with Dance Music". Most known for their single "Sadeness (Part 1)," the group had great success in the early 90's. Their work is sometimes criticized as being unoriginal, siting other musicians such as Delirium and Deep Forest for already pioneering the genre.

Later Enigma would release a track entitled "Return to Innocence," featuring samples of Taiwanese Aboriginal Chant played over a drum beat taken from the group Led Zeppelin. While I always found the song to be a "catchy tune," it wasn't until years later that I heard something deeper within the song.

As I've mentioned before, I think my story is one to share...and I still work on my screenplay when i can find the time. As I think about scenes from my life, things that have happened that have pointed me in this direction, this song is the anthem for my vocation story. While the lyrics are elementary, the message reminds me that maybe, just maybe, I might be good enough to do whatever God's asking of me.

Love - Devotion
Feeling - Emotion

Don't be afraid to be weak
Don't be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart, my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence

If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself, don't hide
Just believe in destiny

Don't care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don't give up and lose the chance
The return to innocence

That's not the beginning of the end
It's the return to yourself
The return to innocence


-Enigma