Few Are Chosen

My heart is still heavy as the result of dwelling too much on discontentment. Driving to work this morning, I couldn't help but be upset with myself for my lack of patience and selfish needs.

It has been over 3 years since Fr. H., the pastor of my previous parish, was reassigned out of my city to a small town in the diocese. A few short weeks ago I finally got up the courage to track him down and drove out to see him selfishly seeking someone to talk to about this painfully lonely anguish called discernment. Though he is no longer my pastor, he is the only priest I personally know and the only ecclesiastical person in the diocese that would discuss vocation with me. So I got dressed for mass and drove out there with butterflies in my stomach, scarcely believing my audacity thinking of the hopeful attempt to seek his council after mass before any of his official congregation got to him.

Finding the church, I accepted the bulletin the usher handed me as I entered, located an empty pew, and said my prayers before mass. As I seated myself after praying and opened the bulletin out of curiosity, there is was… A note in the bulletin announcing that Fr. H. was doing well in his surgical recovery and thanking everyone for the cards sent to him c/o the rectory. I immediately got up to see the usher; surely he could tell me what was going on! Poor Fr. H., who is not much older than me, had hip replacement surgery and was currently in rehab. It was obvious he didn’t know where Fr. H. actually was or an exact date when he may return from his recovery.

I didn’t stay for mass. I left not only disappointed, but also greatly ashamed at being disappointed because of my selfish needs while the poor man is recovering from major surgery. I sincerely pray for his recovery and have asked forgiveness for my self-interested behavior.

All of this brings this morning and this moment to my current state. Coming home from mass last Sunday and still experiencing the incredible emotions I mentioned in earlier entries, I attempted to call Fr. H.’s rectory. I wanted to know if he was back or maybe there was someone else to talk to. I left a message with my name and number on the answering machine and then carried the telephone around for 3 days. (Pathetic, huh?)

I guess I expect too much. Even if Fr. H. was not available, I had hoped someone might have at least conveyed back that this was the case.

This is a long lonely road and I pray for the grace is granted me to see and accept the outcome soon.