This past week was Pentecost, and with its arrival came the end of the Easter season. It feels like the Vigil was only yesterday, but at the same time, the last fifty days have been a period of stretching for me.
Change is inevitable.
Last weekend, I curled up in my usual chair in my confessor's confessional, and after the usual teasing, said, "You're leaving, and I'm staying here. I don't know how to deal with that."
There was no confession involved in our very frank, semi-emotional conversation. All in all, I know it's not about him, that it never was to begin with. He said that he knew when I first came back two years ago that I was different, and needed to have my butt kicked in order to grow. Now, he said, I would learn to grow in other ways.
I must admit, though, that having an open invitation to visit whenever I need to has helped me immensely. I was also reminded that soon, I'll have two new priests in my life--our new deacon-turned-parochial vicar that will assume his position tomorrow morning, and my chaplain when I move to my university at the end of August.
On top of this optimistic thought, I've introduced myself on Facebook to the Newman club there, and have been pleasantly surprised by several friend requests, as well as an invitation to a women's retreat with them in late August. I'm not sure yet if I will be allowed to go, but knowing that I'm going to be getting to know other Catholics my age is such a huge boost for me. As one of my friends said recently, it's been a very lonely walk. Having people to fellowship with is so important. I'm hoping that I won't be disappointed. I don't think I will be.
Change is difficult. It's far from comfortable, and I know that all of this is going to be a test, both on my faith and on my maturity. If it's any consolation, it will serve as a fantastic opportunity to bring me closer to God, and learn to rely on Him more.
Maybe change can be a good thing.
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