In the previous post of the series, I mentioned that most of my life I have felt called toward something. The problem was that I didn’t know what I was being called it. So, time and time again, I ignored the feeling and continued on with my life, knowing that there was something I was missing.
The all changed one afternoon.
I was going for a hike at a local park, something I often do. As I was leaving, satisfied with a great afternoon in nature, I noticed a couple of yard signs that were across the street. They said, “Become a Friar.” I’m not entirely sure why they caught my attention at that moment; but I couldn’t get them out of my head.
For days, that simple sign permeated my thoughts and captured my imagination. Once I realized that it wasn’t going away, I decided that I should do a little research. So, I consulted Google to find out more about what it meant to be a Friar. The more I learned the more intrigued I became. There was something profoundly appealing to a life of service to the poor and of radical dedication to God.
I few weeks later, I found myself hiking at the same park. This time, as I pulled out, I didn’t just speed past the yard signs. I pulled into the driveway of the friary and took a couple of snapshots. I wasn’t ready to call the number, but I wanted to have it at my disposal, in case I became ready.
A few more weeks had passed before I pulled up the photos in my camera roll.
I was sitting in the parking lot of Wal-Mart before work, and it hit me: It was time to make the call. Somehow the idea of being a friar had gotten into my head, and it simply would not go away. So, in a moment of faith-filled desperation, I dialed the numbers.
At first, I only got the voice mail of the Vocation Officer; but I didn’t take them lot to return my call. When the conversation was over, I had an appointment with the Vocation Director at the same friary where I had seen the signs.