God’s call.

Sometimes, it is a whisper. Sometimes, it is like a gong in one’s ear.

Sometimes, it is unexpected. Other times, anticipated.

This time, I heard it at mass. It was a about one week ago that it happened. I don’t remember the exact details of when or how I heard it because I was busy rallying my four year old twins. They gathered around (or rather surrounded) me, as they often did during the homily, both waiting sit on Mommy’s lap. You see, I’m a cantor. A lead vocalist, of sorts, for any non-Catholics reading. So, my children are usually keeping themselves busy coloring or with my good friend’s older kids who (thank God) keep them occupied while my husband and I do our thing at mass.

My husband is a flautist, pianist, youth choir director, entrepreneur, and…you guessed it, the Youth Minister of our Parish. He is talented, joyful, charismatic (charming?), and hilarious. People love him. This isn’t about him, though. So, I digress.

I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the homily, so I’m not sure how I heard it. Maybe because it was anticipated. Maybe because I have been longing to hear God’s voice again after so many years of being too busy to hear anything besides my babies, my work, or my husband. The call was certain and persistent. After I heard it the first time, it kept on, like an alarm pounding in my heart. “I am calling you.”

The last couple of years have been difficult. My husband and I nearly separated. Several times. And, if I wasn’t threatening separation (or divorce), it was an unhappy home. Why? You might be wondering. Well, you’ll get that in bits and pieces as we continue. I only mention that to make the point that I needed that call. I was desperate for it. I had witnessed my husband transform in the last two years, the change triggered by the situation we found ourselves in and taken over by the Holy Spirit. While he was transforming, I was in crises mode. Desperately trying to find myself, while being a mother and the woman I thought my husband wanted. In that time, I didn’t think once about who God was calling me to be.

“I am calling you.”

It was the call I had been waiting for, for what seems like an eternity. Once I heard it, like dry, cracked dirt, I was suddenly quenched. Like a flood, God’s call — The Word, the Truth filled my being.

Write, Patricia. Pour your heart out, my darling girl. Let me see into you. Let others see into you. You are beautiful. And, you are loved.

So. I am here, my Lord. I am here.