Canonizations, Crowds, and Angst.
As I ready myself for a jaunt to Rome and Vatican City I find myself experiencing more of a desire to stay home.
Don't get me wrong, I am very appreciative of my family making the sacrifices for my trip.
And I look forward to seeing a part of the world that has, in many ways been on the geographic periphery of my life (for obvious reasons).
But it wasn't supposed to be this way. I wasn't supposed to be heading there without my son and my lovely wife.
While the friendship I share with my old classmate is what provided this opportunity--I am just a little out of place.
Allow me to explain...
The purpose of the trek is to go and participate as part of the cloud of witnesses to the canonizations of Popes John 23 and John Paul 2.
My friend and old seminary classmate proposed this adventure a few months back.
He had reserved space at a religious house in Rome and asked if I wanted to accompany him. The plan is to be at the Vatican for a few days then on to visit his cousins.
Pretty laid back--so laid back that I was trying to figure out how I could travel to a famed english horn craftsman so as to surprise my son with an authentic hand crafted instrument upon my return. A quick lesson in geography taught me that it is more than a simple day trip. So we are looking at a couple other jaunts (one area that is spiritually significant to me--- though I'm not sure how to write about it--so we will just wait and see if I end up there!)
And there in lies the emotional angst...
I'd rather be looking for an english horn in an obscure village than fighting a crowd in the Vatican.
Why?
Always the lost shepherd.
But who knows---there is part of me that is trusting that the Holy Spirit is in some way taking me to this place and time. It was John Paul who interceded and assisted in bringing me and my family back home to the Church. It was John Paul who died that night--when I was on my knees outside the church in Medjugorje --an excommunicated ex-priest..."pray for me, pray for my wife, pray for our son..."
Pope Francis received a copy of A Lost Shepherd sometime last month (via another classmate). While I don't expect to hear from the Holy Father--I pray that at least he 'heard' my testimony of Our Lady of Medjugorje and Pope John Paul.
So it comes full circle--probably now I will find myself way, far far far away from St. Peter's--simply because of the crowds.
But this time I celebrate John Paul and utter a different prayer...."Thanks! oh, and please keep praying for me, my wife and our son."
Don't get me wrong, I am very appreciative of my family making the sacrifices for my trip.
And I look forward to seeing a part of the world that has, in many ways been on the geographic periphery of my life (for obvious reasons).
But it wasn't supposed to be this way. I wasn't supposed to be heading there without my son and my lovely wife.
While the friendship I share with my old classmate is what provided this opportunity--I am just a little out of place.
Allow me to explain...
The purpose of the trek is to go and participate as part of the cloud of witnesses to the canonizations of Popes John 23 and John Paul 2.
My friend and old seminary classmate proposed this adventure a few months back.
He had reserved space at a religious house in Rome and asked if I wanted to accompany him. The plan is to be at the Vatican for a few days then on to visit his cousins.
Pretty laid back--so laid back that I was trying to figure out how I could travel to a famed english horn craftsman so as to surprise my son with an authentic hand crafted instrument upon my return. A quick lesson in geography taught me that it is more than a simple day trip. So we are looking at a couple other jaunts (one area that is spiritually significant to me--- though I'm not sure how to write about it--so we will just wait and see if I end up there!)
And there in lies the emotional angst...
I'd rather be looking for an english horn in an obscure village than fighting a crowd in the Vatican.
Why?
Always the lost shepherd.
But who knows---there is part of me that is trusting that the Holy Spirit is in some way taking me to this place and time. It was John Paul who interceded and assisted in bringing me and my family back home to the Church. It was John Paul who died that night--when I was on my knees outside the church in Medjugorje --an excommunicated ex-priest..."pray for me, pray for my wife, pray for our son..."
Pope Francis received a copy of A Lost Shepherd sometime last month (via another classmate). While I don't expect to hear from the Holy Father--I pray that at least he 'heard' my testimony of Our Lady of Medjugorje and Pope John Paul.
So it comes full circle--probably now I will find myself way, far far far away from St. Peter's--simply because of the crowds.
But this time I celebrate John Paul and utter a different prayer...."Thanks! oh, and please keep praying for me, my wife and our son."
