This week, one of our house members decided to facilitate a discussion on how each one of us connects with God. We gathered in the prayer room with dimmed lights and lit candles and shared what is so often taboo to discuss in other social contexts - our faith. It was moving to hear everyone's stories about how they came into their faith, the struggles they have had, and the unique ways in which they each connect with God or the divine. When I took my turn, I talked a lot about Stonehill. I talked about how much I loved being in Campus Ministry, how I took advantage of every opportunity possible to try out different ministries, and how much I loved the Congregation of Holy Cross. I spoke from the heart and it felt nice to share, but almost immediately after the next person began speaking, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Once the words had actually spilled out of my mouth, the reality set in and I realized just how much my time at Stonehill had shaped me.
Anyone who knows me knows I am prone to crying - it's how I've always been and likely how I always will be. That being said, it was surprising that I had not really cried at all since coming to Chicago. Well, Monday night - I cried. I had a few tears during prayer night (easily concealed by the dim lighting), and then took some time alone in my room to really let it out. I cried for my family and friends who felt so far away, I cried for my love of the CSCs and for Campus Ministry. I cried for the people I serve, the people I have to turn away, the people in my community. I cried for the world. It was a solid half hour of feeling so heavy and so broken. It sounds awful, but in truth it was healing. Without realizing it, I had been bottling up so many different feelings in order to push through the many tasks thrown my way throughout orientation and the first week of work. After taking time to breathe and relax again, I felt healed. I felt ready to better face the year ahead, now more aware of the different things affecting me and more prepared to address and cope with them as they arise.
In my time of reflection after prayer night, I also realized something else. Much of the sadness I felt for not being at Stonehill related back to Campus Ministry. While in part this is certainly due to the people that I spent time with there, it also had a lot to do with missing the act of ministry. As I took my turn speaking during prayer night, I found myself saying how I best connected with God through service in liturgy. In my time at Stonehill, I was a lector, a choir member, a Eucharistic Minister, a minister of hospitality, and a gift bearer (sometimes all in one liturgy!). I also helped coordinate prayer services and liturgies for the Sem Community and for the Stonehill Community. By senior year a large portion of my spare time was spent learning about ministry and putting what I learned into practice. I spoke about how much I missed these opportunities now that I am in a new place where I don't have an established faith community or a place to practice my faith in this way. As I reflected privately after prayer night, I realized that this was an important revelation. Not only was my faith a very central part of my life, but ministry was a very critical part of my faith.
For several months now I have been considering getting an M.Div. in the near future and pursuing a career in ministry, but have recently been wavering and unsure if this was really my calling. I'm not saying that one prayer night has made me 100% confident, but it has caused me to think and pray more about my future. The longing in my heart to serve others in their faith experience is most certainly present. Now, I suppose, it is time for me to start discerning just how I am supposed to go about living that vocation.
So in the end, shedding a few (all right, more than a few) tears was important. It made me evaluate myself, my experience, and my future. I guess sometimes you have to break in order to become more whole.
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