Thinking back at that first meeting with Shan on Santana Row, that warm afternoon that gave life to these surprising (to me at least) conversations – as they are showing me things of myself that I did not know before… There is one thing that is still very much fixed in my mind and my heart and that, to this day, touches me profoundly: it is how fast we dived into talking about what life consists of, and what deep understanding and closeness I found in Shan. Side note: it touched me so much so that the first post is completely devoted to this, so I guess you might have imagined that already… Anyway.
There is one word that immediately came up, a word that has been haunting me day and night since life became different, urging an answer that might give peace to my hurting heart. And this word is: purpose.
I had a pretty happy youth, and after school, by chance l got a job teaching, that turned out to be what I felt born to do – my calling. I had good friends, a great fiancé, a loving family, and everything was good. Really good. And I had faith – or at least I thought I had: I was sure whatever was to come, I’d be doing exactly good; really good. Then I left home and moved to California with my husband, and life changed; and I realized that I was not doing good at all. While I still have a great husband, and good friends, and a loving family, I have a home and something to eat every day, I have no job, and I can’t have children. And I feel like I have no purpose.
There is always that question, which never seems to quiet down: what am I spending my life for? What am I called to do with it?
I don’t usually just go around and ask that question, as I usually feel the odd one out: everybody looks pretty happy and really busy, like they know where they are going and enjoying the ride. Yet, few minutes into talking with Shan, and I could not but open my heart and whisper its depth. I was almost scared to let the question out, but Shan embraced it, embraced me, and told me that she feels the same urgency for purpose, the same desire for life to be useful and fruitful; she told me that she still struggles with it sometimes, and that her calling to Catholic Charities answers that need we share, for life to be meaningful; she told me that I was called, as well, to be a wife, and hopefully, one day, a mother. In short, she reminded me that time will unveil the holy plan that God has on our life for our happiness, even if it is not always clear. And since then, she has been there for me, to always remember, to keep the faith. She’s been my friend in Christ.
Is there anything more precious we can offer each other?