I tend to connect most with the people in my field as a marine biologist because of our love for nature, our peace that stems from the simplicity yet complexity of life, and care that wells up as we become stewards of our planet but rarely (if at all) do any of them share my faith. ...But even that has its limit. The number of times I have encountered Catholics who don’t believe my life’s work has purpose because conserving our planet for the sake of humanity is 'too liberal' is heart-wrenching for me. ...This lack of never truly belonging leads to many questions about the deepest parts of a human being and our aloneness in this world.
I knew Jesus had room for me—he hung out with my crowd, loud mouth recovering know-it-alls trying to figure out how to follow Him. That wasn’t my issue. It was the Church, with its pearls and stained glass, its rules about candle height and liturgical music and specific wordings—that was where I wasn’t sure I was welcome.
“My mom worked as a banker in Mexico, and we lived a stable life, along with the help and support from family members. Throughout the years, my mom experienced a lot of fear and trauma... Her last experience where she got held at gunpoint, was the last straw…”
“Every human being has gifts, insight, and presence that are needed by the rest of us; some of us are in a position to have our offerings valued by the world, and some of us are not. That doesn’t mean some have less to offer—it means we have to create a world that elevates the voices of those who have been silenced…”
"My Dear Sisters, 'You know you’re gay, right?' I don’t remember where I was when my friend said this to me. All I remember is I was a junior in high school - at a Catholic school - and all I could do was frantically try to assure her that I wasn’t… what she just said..."
In the second letter of our Cultivating Sisterhood short-series, Sara reminds us that no matter who we are or where we go, we can always bring a little bit of the Church with us to others using our unique gifts & talents.