Preface
At this point in my journey, I knew I was being called to this vocation—monasticism. Through prayer, experience, and subtle but unmistakable encounters with the Theotokos, I could see there was a plan of repentance laid out before me along this path. But, being the realist I’d always been, I also knew there were some hurdles I had to get over—one in particular that could keep me from choosing this path altogether.
Realist or not, I’d seen enough of what God can do to know that if He really was calling me, and I was really saying “yes,” then it would come to pass. That hurdle would be no obstacle in the end. If I’m being completely honest, a small part of me was even glad for the wall we seemed to have hit. I truly believed that if this was meant to be, it would be.
So this debt—a vehicle lien—felt like a blessing in disguise. I’d reached a point where there was literally nothing I could do about it, so if God took care of it, there would be no doubt left in me. If He acted, there would be no turning back—my life would be His, as a nun.
Ever since becoming part of the common life at the Convent, I’d been asked to do things I would never choose to do on my own. In the grand scheme of things, none of it was a big deal. At first, though, it was hard not to be bothered by it. Couldn’t it all make a little more sense? Couldn’t I get the details I needed to do the task right the first time?
I’d served in the military. I’d been a good employee. I knew how to do what I was told. So why did it all feel so arbitrary and nonsensical? I didn’t know how to do much, but I did know how to follow orders—and I thought that was basically the same as being obedient. Obedience is supposed to be central to monastic life, and clearly, I was missing something.
Then came the next hard thing—the hardest thing up to that point—asking someone, a complete stranger no less, for help—help I could not repay. The letter will explain the rest…
Letter
Hello [Anonymous],
My name is Porphyria. I’m a parishioner at Saint Mary of Egypt Orthodox Church, and a postulant at The Convent Mother of God, Seeker of the Lost. Yes, I am choosing the monastic path, and I am hoping and praying that you can help with that. This choice isn’t an easy one; monasticism is a hard path. A path where there is a point of no return. I feel I’ve hit a point of no return. Giving away most of my possessions was my goodbye to the world. I assumed getting rid of my things would be difficult. I was prepared to do it, regardless; there’s nothing more important than Christ. Surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult… like, at all. It was freeing. The emptier my place got, the lighter my shoulders felt. It’s funny, I started easily living without things I once felt I couldn’t live without. Now, I just want to be united with Christ, forever.
Does one need to be a monastic to be forever united with Christ? In general, no. It really isn’t for everyone. Honestly, not long ago, I was convinced it wasn’t for me (lots of reasons for that). But here I am, sitting in my cell, writing to you; all the while, fighting multiple temptations that are directly connected to my writing to you. This is exactly why I need to be a monastic to be forever united with Christ.
I don’t believe that pride is everyone’s biggest passion, but I know it’s mine. I’ve known that since I was a Protestant. It (my pride) can stand alone—manifesting itself in innumerable ways; or, it can be the driving force behind an assortment of other passions. At the moment, I’m fighting my distaste for asking for help, especially help that feels like a handout. Freely giving, without expecting anything back? That’s easy. Receiving? I’m not even fond of gifts. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been backed into a few corners and had to swallow my pride. But I’d make a point to pay it back, somehow. I didn’t want to feel like I owed anyone anything.
And here I sit, with an obstacle I can’t overcome on my own: an obstacle to me moving forward, from postulant to novice. This situation requires me to rely on the generosity of others—above all, on God. I’m not in the position to pay anyone back. And nothing I can do should be considered paying them back—for my sake and theirs. My faith has grown much being at a great parish, like Saint Mary’s, and having a great spiritual father, like Father Turbo. Thank God! It’s only by God‘s grace that I’m getting through this letter; especially since I also hate writing letters. Yes, I’m the worst, which brings me to my point.
I hope I’ve given you some insight into the reason why I know the Lord, Himself, has set me on this path. I need to be in the monastic circumstance that my Convent uniquely provides. I need to be with the women that God, Himself, has handpicked to be in this Sisterhood. These aspects alone are perfect for my personal needs (for God to purify me). I believe this is one of the reasons why he brought me to Saint Mary’s, specifically. I need to be in a community where there is no “I,” only “we.” I need a life where I have to sacrifice my will all day, every day. I need my life to be full of moments just like this one. Whether you can help or not, this moment is worth its weight in spiritual gold—all of them have been, since stepping into this vocation. Not that any of this has been easy, but easy isn’t what I need. Being constantly forced to get over myself and put my Lord first, that’s what I need. My Lord has shown me that I’m cut out to be a monastic if I’m always willing to forget myself and look to Him and rely on His grace and mercy. All the other stuff I thought I would need for this vocation is irrelevant.
This is the path of repentance set before me. I feel akin to Saint Mary in that way; her path of repentance was set before her by the Theotokos: the path of repentance she needed. So, I’ll be bold and ask you, sir, I have a 2021 Hyundai Elantra I still owe [a large amount of money] on. It’s a debt, and debt is an obstacle to joining a Convent. It needs to be paid off, or else I can’t move forward.
You have quite a reputation for giving. Thank God! You’ve been so faithful, in fact, that one might wonder why I would so boldly ask you to give even more. Not to mention, it’s a big ask… When I hear of your past generosity, I hear a commitment to giving back to God what He has entrusted to you, for the sake of others. I believe you have a heart that gives. I used to give freely when I had it to give, too. But it wasn’t a heart thing; it was always out of selfishness. It’s due to your faithfulness and generosity that I’m humbly (not begrudgingly) asking this of you. It’s your past faithfulness that God has used to provide me with an incredible opportunity for repentance. That’s to your account, as St. Paul would say. That’s a purifying work that God’s doing in me. It’s fruit that He is cultivating, and you’ve played a part in that already. Your almsgiving has had a fruitful impact on the Sisterhood; I currently am working on finishing the renovations you have contributed to. Through much prayer, we see that it’s the Mother of God that’s building this Sisterhood. I believe she continues to invite you to be a part of that.
I’m inviting you to be the one God uses to keep me on the path of repentance: the one that I need. I do hope, after reading this, you will consider at least going to the Lord in prayer, seeking His will through the intercessions of the Mother of God and the saints. Thank you for your prayers and consideration.
Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that abounds to your account.
Philippians 4:17
Good Strength for Holy Week,
Porphyria
Reflection
I didn’t know exactly how my Lord would handle it, but I knew He would. If He didn’t, then obviously I would’ve been wrong about being called to this in the first place. Honestly, I didn’t expect this gentleman to help—why would I? He didn’t know me, and even if he did, that was a lot of money (that’s the realist in me talking). But I also knew God’s providence is incredible.
I had no idea—me, the one who usually has ideas—what He was going to do. I just knew I had to wait and see. So I did. My part was simple: write the letter, pray to the Theotokos for help (and I’m so glad I did), and keep praying to Saint Nicholas. So that’s what I did. I wrote the letter, went about my life, and patiently waited for God’s answer.
It actually took quite a bit of time for him to even get the letter. It took multiple tries to get it to him (I wonder why), and when I finally got a response, it completely short-circuited my brain. He thanked me for the opportunity to help me—and then he did. God did exactly what I didn’t think He’d do. My prayers to the Mother of God and St. Nicholas hadn’t fallen on deaf ears (as usual).
Our God, the Theotokos and the Saints, are always answering my prayers—just usually in ways I never expect. Wow. Even as I’m writing this, I realize I needed that reminder.
Thank God!
I still have the letter from our friend in Christ as a reminder of two things:
1) what God can do when it’s His will, and
2) to stop putting Him in a box according to my limited understanding—because my mind will never be enough to grasp the infinite.
It’s like He’s saying to me, “I love you, but you still don’t know Me like you think you do. You could, though. Just let go of all that stuff, submit fully to Me, and you could know Me so much better.”
This journey of learning how to submit to Him in all the little opportunities He gives me has been incredible—and yes, also painful. Painful, because I’m a sinner with an ego that thinks it’s the center of everything. That ego fights hard to survive. But when I actually choose to ignore it, as if it’s not even real, and instead choose Christ—it’s so simple.
Being here, I’ve experienced the peace that passes all understanding in a deeper way. I’ve healed from things I never thought I could (yep, putting Him in a box again), and even from things I didn’t realize still needed healing. Some days I feel as free as an eagle soaring across the sky—because I choose Him, I choose others, and I don’t choose my ego, my pride, or my vanity—myself.
The moral of the story hasn’t changed— I just continue to experience a greater revelation of it over time. What’s the moral?
If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.
Matthew 16:24 (OSB)
His sacrifice, His suffering, His passionless passion—it’s a beautiful revelation. He didn’t die so we wouldn’t have to. He died to show us the way. And dying to self and to sin—so we can live to Christ and righteousness—there’s nothing like it. It’s not of this world.
But you can’t get there by trusting in yourself or relying on yourself. Others are just as necessary for my salvation as the Savior Himself—by His design. That letter to our brother in the Lord, whom I pray for every day, was just the beginning of that reality becoming real to me.
Thank God.