I left the convent on the Lord’s orders: “Go home and tell your family all that I have done for you.” I’d given Him complete reign of my life: all obstacles removed, no holds barred. And so He acted freely in it, turning even the smallest details of my life into signs and wonders.
April 26, 2014. The night when my story became our story. In honor of this special event, James and I have both shared our perspectives about the night when we first met. ❤
When I asked Father what I should do now, I’d expected him to give a more vague answer. Instead, Father welcomed me deeper into the parish community, by inviting me to volunteer and get involved. He made me feel included, which I liked, but also challenged.
I was only one day out of the convent, but already I knew: there was no going back. My 19 months in the cloister had changed, healed, and marked me. Maybe you couldn’t see this mark, like you could my oddly cut hair and cheap new clothes. This transformation went far deeper than physical appearances.
Each new color and sound struck my senses with painful intensity. After 19 months of white walls, silence, and lowering my eyes, just standing in my mother’s kitchen was sending me into sensory overload.