I know my vocation is needed in the Church. There is no doubt about that. “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few” (Matthew 9:37). At a time when others are being shaken in their vocations, the Church needs men and women faithful to the Lord’s call. Souls are crying out to be saved through prayer and sacrifice. This is all very convincing to me and has helped solidify my vocation as I made final vows.
But it is not the heart of the matter: the foundation of my choice is that I am not merely needed, but that I am wanted by the Lord, even desired. How do I know this? I know because he meets my own desire for him and answers it with infinite love.
Recently, I prayed with Genesis 29:15-30, the story of Jacob and Rachel. I was praying for the grace of perseverance, that, just as Jacob worked and waited two sets of seven years to wed Rachel, I would also persevere to the end to be with my Beloved. As I prayed, I imagined Jesus asking me the same question that Laban (Rachel’s father) asked Jacob: “Tell me, what shall your wages be?” In my mind’s eye, I saw a table sitting between us covered in treasures and bags of gold coins. My heart cried out to him, “You are all that I desire!” and I overturned the table and threw its treasures aside.
As I prayed with other Scriptures related to perseverance and waiting for the Lord, I experienced a growing longing for union with him. This is the story of my life. Ever since I was a little girl, I have yearned for this infinite love and it has driven me far seeking approval, pleasure and all I thought love looked like. I re-lived this emptiness and desire to be filled. As this prayer time drew to a close, my heart welled up with a longing that had to be expressed. I opened my hands and spoke out loud, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
Immediately he answered. I felt overtaken by a wave of what I can only describe as love. I knew he wanted to be with me; I knew he wanted me. The only true reason for my commitment is love— not necessity, not urgency, not productivity, not even evangelization. Love is the only thing that remains when the dust settles.
Aslan, a Jesus-figure in The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, says at the close of The Last Battle: “Unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek.” I cling to the hope of seeing him face to face in heaven, but the joy that hope brings assures me that, already, “I found him whom my soul loves” (Song of Songs 3:4).
Sr. Mary Gemma Harris, T.O.R.
