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NOTE: Canadian Blog Awards voting starts this Thursday, November 24. I've been nominated under Best Religious Blog. That's American Thanksgiving...so how about something extra for which this American exile can be thankful, eh? Another except from my application to the Diocese of Niagara... It's a dicey situation to say that I know God is calling me to the priesthood. I suppose I'm loath to presume to positively know God's will, even as it applies to myself. What I can say is that I feel called, or sense a calling. So far on this journey I have placed a great deal of trust in God's plan for me. While to "let go and let God" might be asking too much of someone with as much German heritage as myself, I have found that when I follow the path that leads deeper into serving God I meet less resistance. Not that it's easy � it's not. But it is right. What do I know? I know that facilitating worship � guiding a congregation through the daily office, leading the prayers of the people, preaching � is something that I do well, like my mother at the factory, and that it feeds me. I know that I feel God's presence when I visit hospitals, even when I'm terrified of the pain I'll witness there. I know that as I prostrated myself before the fixed high altar during All Saints' very Anglo-catholic Good Friday liturgy, I felt the overwhelming joy of giving myself completely to God. I know that organizing special parish events energizes me immensely and that the daily routine of church life fits me like old slippers. And I know that as I have proceeded on this course I've met with encouragement from people whose opinions I respect. Beyond that there is a core feeling that this is where God wants me to be. Awake in the lonely stretches of night I wonder if I should be taking this class or that, how well did I do on that last paper, whether I should look to rural ministry or an urban setting � the little worries and stresses of any major undertaking. Never once, since first setting foot in Trinity's chapel, have I wondered whether or not I was truly meant for the priesthood. Unworthy as I am (as we all, ultimately, are) and as astounding as it would have seemed a few years ago, I feel that God is calling me to serve at the altar. Do I know this? So far as my own inner certainty is concerned, yes. And I trust that God will open or close the path, as may be most expedient for me (to steal a line from St. Chrysostom). Now if the apartment manager would open the radiator pipes, I wouldn't have to tuck a heating pad under my robe. Sorry. That's not an edifying end to this entry, but it's 15C in this apartment, 6 degrees below what the law demands. At what point do we start deducting money from the rent? |
