You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘being called’ tag.

There was a time in my life that I seriously considered becoming a nun. Some people in my life are baffled by this. Perhaps I don’t fit into their idea of what a nun should look like or be. That’s common among those who have not spent much time among women religious. I have, and I know them to be individuals, humans. They are smart and funny and brave…they also drink beer and cuss and find themselves wanting. My calling ended up being to a life quite different from what I’d imagined. Still, when I think back to that time, I want to say to those doubters, “Do you not remember being young and in love?” Because I do.

I fell. Or rather,
I flew. I floated,
feet barely brushing
the sturdier surfaces of the earth.
You don’t forget your first and I do not;
we smuggle messages (he to me) in secret,
in sudden, stark realizations and serendipitous surprise.
Together we are children. We are as ancient as old bones.
Love lands lightly as a feather, as snow falling on the ground,
even now. After all I’ve done to desert it. After a lifetime,
we are still in love. One faraway day, we might even meet.
I can hardly contain my hope.

I woke this morning, as I do every morning, with a sense of urgency — ready to rush into my day. Turns out, however, that today was different. Today, my 16-year-old cat became a kitten again.

When Steven was a baby (he came to us, wild and starving, barely old enough to have his eyes open), he loved to sleep on my stomach, to feel me breathing. But I had work to do. So I donned an apron with a commodious front pocket, slipped him into the pocket, and went about my day, a human kangaroo.

Steven is dying of cancer. (Intrepid readers will remember we just lost Banshee last month. Such is life with a houseful of senior citizen animals.) Just yesterday he was morose and miserable, shying away from our petting hands. This morning, however, he woke me by squirming into my arms and purring up a storm. He wanted to sleep next to me again. So, despite the work of the day ahead, I did as God was clearly calling me to do: I spent an extra half-hour cuddling with my dying kitty.

Sometimes we are called to do God’s work in the world. And sometimes, we are called to stay in bed with a warm, soft orange cat. All callings are sacred, no matter how small. Do today what you are called to do. The dishes can wait. Phone calls can wait. But there will never be another chance to love someone at this time and in this place.

Sort of sounds like a prayer, doesn’t it?

Archive

Have a Mary Little Christmas

%d bloggers like this: