I was raised Catholic and attended a parochial school in my formidable years so naturally, I was set on becoming a nun. It looked like a pretty good deal to me: free meals, a nice big house with no boys, a career with wardrobe included, and everything would be spelled out in black and white–those neat looking outfits called “habits” I figured wearing one of those would qualify me as righteous. If I couldn’t be the part, at least I could look the part. It would be my career and my wardrobe. My black shoes would always match my outfit, and I’d never worry about whether blue eye-shadow was in or out, as shadow of any color and make-up in general–was definitely out. Also, the glory of head coverings is one never has a bad-hair day.
But, alas, the nun’s attire was very hot and uncomfortable, so by the mid-’60’s, the nasty habits disappeared, as did my motivation to become a nun. My four sisters (and pretty much the whole world) knew I was not “nun material” anyway. And while it’s true I was not fit to serve the Lord, I’ve noticed I’m in good company.
Peter, in His first encounter with Jesus said,
“Depart from me Lord, I am a sinful man.”
And Isaiah said,
“I saw the Lord…woe to me! For I am a man of unclean lips!”
But both those guys hung around long enough to experience the Lord’s kindness that leads to repentance. As have I. So, while there’s one less nun, I serve the Lord Jesus Christ, nonetheless.