My Vocation Story
A vocation is a response to the gift and mystery of God’s call: “You did not choose me; I chose you” (Jn. 15:15).
I am Sr. Carmencita Garcia, a Filipina missionary in Italy. Looking back on my journey of faith and my relationship of love with the Master in this 24th year of my religious profession is indeed a privilege.
I am the oldest of five children and I grew up in a Catholic family. My parents, especially my mother, paved the way for my vocation. When I was small, my mother used to take me to the local Carmelite monastery every year on my birthday to light a candle in thanksgiving (I was born on the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel). That yearly practice ignited my curiosity about the sisters hidden behind the cloister grille, who sang like angels.
But as I grew up, I put thoughts about the convent aside and concentrated on my school life. In college, I majored in chemical engineering and eventually forgot about those sisters behind the grille. Because I was very determined to succeed in my profession, I started to dream and plan for the future. In view of this, I began to seek positions in big companies around the country even before I graduated from the university.
After passing the State board examination for chemical engineers, I began working as an apprentice engineer, but I was interiorly restless. This disturbed me and I asked God what he was trying to tell me.
I felt drawn like a magnet to daily Mass and Eucharistic Adoration. I joined various Catholic organizations (the Youth Charismatic Group and the Blue Army of Our Lady of Fatima) and took an active part in them.
In the midst of my searching, I thought back to those trips to the Carmelite monastery with my mother. Inspired by this, I went to a nearby monastery, hoping to talk to one of the nuns. God sent me the right one–a very patient Sister who took the time to speak with me and answer my questions. That was the beginning of my renewed interest in the religious life.
Soon afterward, I went back to my hometown, found a job in the city and made new friends. Deep within me, the aching sense of emptiness and restlessness continued, but I tried to ignore it because my determination to make it “big” in my profession was still very strong and I was almost at the peak of my goals.
One day, as I was walking down the street, I saw an arrow pointing to an open door. Out of curiosity, I went in and found myself in a big room filled with girls and two Sisters. They all welcomed me with big smiles. The gathering was a “search in”–a day of recollection guided by the Daughters of St. Paul. I felt very much at home among the participants and I was impressed by the kindness and hospitality of the Sisters.
That unplanned visit became a monthly commitment. Things happened very quickly after that: I filled out forms and wrote a letter asking to join the Institute’s group of aspirants for that year (1987). I started gathering the things I needed to bring to the convent, told my parents about my decision and resigned my job. Both my parents were very supportive.
Everything was ready, but then, a few days before I was due to leave, I got cold feet and decided I did not want to become a nun after all. I wrote a letter to the FSP Provincial Superior, telling her I had decided not to enter the convent because I felt I could serve God in other ways. In fact, I considered joining a lay missionary group working with indigenous tribes or else volunteering for one of the non-governmental groups working for the poor. I had many plans about how to serve others without becoming a religious sister….
In the meantime, I tried to avoid meeting the Daughters of St. Paul. I stopped visiting them and no longer attended their monthly retreats. Every time I received an invitation from them, I would send my younger sisters–and even my brother!–in my place. I would find alibis and even go out of town in order not to meet the Sisters. For more than a year, I “hid” from them.
But on Good Friday 1988, while I was standing in line for confession, somebody behind me tapped me on the shoulder and I knew right away that it was a Daughter of St. Paul (I had caught a glimpse of her blue habit out of the corner of my eye). It was one of the smiling Sisters whom I had met on my first encounter with them. The Sister did not ask me anything but warmly invited me to visit them again. Deep inside I resisted her invitation but I could not say so. A week after that unexpected meeting, I attended a welcome celebration for our new Bishop, who was the former parish priest of my mother’s hometown. Of all the places available in the room, we were given seats right next to the Daughters of St. Paul! I knew then that I could not avoid them anymore.
I was very interested in their life but at the same time it terrified me! The whole idea of leaving everything behind made my stomach flutter, yet in my more honest (and stronger) moments, I had to admit that it was the place that attracted me the most.
I believed God was calling me, but how could I leave my family, my engineering career and my dreams about the future? This was the beginning of my real discernment. I spent a lot of time in Eucharistic Adoration, where I always found peace and the courage to go forward.
I finally resumed my visits to the Sisters and a few months later I entered the Congregation. Despite the bumps and humps along the way, I have never regretted that decision because I am convinced that God has called me to the life that is best for me. Like the Hound of Heaven described by the poet, Francis Thompson, the Lord continues to pursue me with his ever-patient understanding and his unconditional, faithful love.
Sr. Carmencita Garcia, fsp