Letter from Sabrina McCormack

Dear sisters in Christ,

When I was 19 years old, I found myself wanting to explain theology, science, and everything in between to my friends at the Catholic Campus Ministry on my college campus. I was a sophomore Biology student and I was probably by far, the nerdiest girl in my all-girls Bible study. I constantly craved a deeper knowledge of Christ and the beautiful world He created. Exploring the two subject areas soon became my favorite past time. I loved explaining Church teaching in a logical, matter-of-fact fashion, and I loved explaining the complexities of God’s marvelous creation.

During my sophomore year of college, I attended a five day national conference for Catholic college students. On the third night, all 10,000 of us gathered in a large room for adoration. Once I laid my eyes on the monstrance, my entire being felt as if it was being taken up to a different realm. Jesus was there, in all totality, present before me. His heart captured my own and I immediately knew of His intimate love for me. I knew I could trust Him with anything. I also knew He was listening to me and so, in prayer, I sought an answer to a question that was lingering in the back of my mind: “Lord, what is my vocation?”

He replied, almost as quickly as I asked, “Teacher”.

Not quite the answer I was expecting, given that I kind of wanted to know about my primary vocation, not a secondary one. Nevertheless, I breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and suddenly became aware of my surroundings again. The tears of repentance and joy that had spontaneously appeared on my cheeks hours ago started to feel sticky. My spine eased up and I slouched down toward the concrete floor, becoming aware of the pain in my knees that were bent in worship for two-plus hours. Despite not getting the answer I was looking for (Cough, marriage), the thought of teaching brought me such peace. It was what I felt like I was called to for so long and this encounter with Our Lord confirmed it.

A couple of years passed and before I knew it, senior year of college was on my doorstep. I knew I wanted to be a high school teacher, but I felt ridiculously unprepared. I would graduate with a degree in Biology but with no degree in teaching. I had some tutoring experience, but my passion for biology led me to focus my studies on my science classes and leave out anything teaching-related. I was about to graduate and I still felt drastically underprepared to teach high school compared to some of my friends who majored or minored in Education.

I told God in prayer, “I didn’t volunteer with any youth groups or teach CCD. I have no idea what high schoolers are like nowadays. Besides, who would hire me anyway? I have no experience and I’m so young”.

Over the course of a few weeks, I told God His plan for me was great and all, but I was afraid that it would not work out as anticipated. As most of my fellow seniors began to find jobs for the next year, a small panic ensued within me. I determined that I ought to take things into my own hands.

Thinking I was trusting in the Lord’s faithfulness, I applied to work as a missionary in Texas. I had no desire to be a missionary but I figured doing it for a year or two is a noble thing and something every good Catholic ought to try out. Since the mission itself included running retreats and programs for high schoolers during the school year, I determined it was the perfect in-between job before I dove headfirst into teaching high school. My plan was safe, foolproof, and there was no room for error.

In March of my senior year, I got the job, drove down from Virginia to Texas in August, and moved into the small women’s missionary house on campus. After putting everything into my new room and meeting my fellow missionaries, I went into my room, closed the door behind me, turned toward the corner wall, and cried. My heart darkened and my soul felt empty and passionless. Being a shove-your- feelings-in-a-bottle type of girl, I wrote it off as just being homesick or a reaction to sudden change. After 24 hours had passed, the sadness I felt the day before only worsened. The other missionaries were awesome, holy, joyful people and the mission site was beautiful, but despite all the good things in front of me, something just did not feel right.

That evening, I snuck into the dark wooden chapel on campus and sat before Our Lord, the same One who spoke so clearly to me only a few years prior. I pleaded, “Lord, why do I feel such sadness and anxiety being here? Is this really what you want me to do? I thought I was going to be a teacher, but I just don’t feel ready for that yet…. But is being a teacher what you really want me to do, right now, despite my lack of experience and unpreparedness?”

Silence.

I was totally frustrated. Jesus wasn’t telling me exactly what to do. He spoke so clearly to me a few years prior, so what gives? I took a few breaths and tried to quiet my discouraged heart. “Maybe silence is an answer”, I thought. I looked around the dimly lit chapel for some paper and a pen. I found a piece of paper and an inky pen and began to write:

So where do I go from here Lord? I didn’t trust You in coming here. I figured it all out myself. I got a job and took it because I didn’t trust you could do great things for me. Why can’t I be a teacher back home? You made me capable Lord. You gave me the skills. Why don’t I trust You will provide? Lord - I don’t think You are calling me to mission work. But You are calling me to serve You through encountering others through my vocation as a teacher. Lord, if you want me home, put me home. I love You and trust You. Through Mary

I folded the paper into my Bible and stumbled back to the women’s house. I got into my bed, opened up my laptop, and typed in the web address of my former high school. I clicked on the employment page. As my eyes scanned the page, I remember thinking, “You already checked here months ago, you won’t find anything. School starts in two weeks anyway. All the positions are filled.”

After scrolling for a few minutes, about halfway down the page, in the bolded text it said: Long term biology substitute needed.

My heart skipped a beat. I rushed to send an email to my former science teacher, asking him about the position, and the next morning he called me. “We were trying to think of someone to fill this position as soon as possible and I thought to myself, ‘Gee, I wonder whatever happened to Sabrina’”, he told me. And then he asked me, “Where are you?” I laughed and said, “Texas…”

After hanging up with my former teacher, I frantically looked for the director of the mission. Sensing I was anxious about something, she invited me inside her cozy cabin and made me feel comfortable before asking what was wrong. I explained to her, through a steady stream of tears, that I’ve always felt called to teach but was too scared to even try to find a teaching position right after college. I told her about my fear of the unknown, the future, and the fear of being judged or ridiculed by the other missionaries for leaving. As soon as I stopped my rambling, she assured me that no one on the team would be disappointed in me and that if I felt such a strong call to be in a classroom, I better chase that dream, especially if the thought of teaching brings peace and joy to my heart. Her patience, understanding, and kindness made trusting in Our Lord that much easier.

Next, I called my parents. I was worried they’d be annoyed with me for dragging them all the way to Texas to help me move in only to hear that I won’t be staying. I called my mom and explained the situation to her. Before I could even finish my first sentence, she interjected, “Good! Good! Oh thank God! I didn’t really know what you were thinking, moving to Texas! You’re made to be a teacher Sabrina.” I laughed and admitted that she was right, as mothers usually are.

The next morning, I jumped out of bed, quickly packed everything back into my car, said my goodbyes, and began the long 24-hour drive home to Virginia. About one week after arriving home, I had the privilege of introducing myself as Ms. McCormack to a group of wide-eyed 14-year-olds on their first day of school.

When my former teacher (now boss) called me, he wondered what had happened to me and where I was... For the 36 hours I was in Texas, while I was coming to terms with the fact that I tried to control God’s plan for my future, Our Lord was silently asking me the exact same question that my former teacher asked me, “What happened to you and where are you?”

What happened to me was that I got caught in fear of the unknown. I got caught up in my own plans. I got caught in doubt. I was shying away from God’s promises. I was scared and felt unprepared and unqualified. I didn’t trust that He could and would provide the means and ways. And because of that, I was lost and didn’t know where I was.

But luckily, Christ doesn’t want us to live in this fear! We are called to cast aside fear: fear of failure, fear of what others think about us, fear of not being good enough. When we willingly hand over our fears to Jesus, we become more joyful, peaceful, and radiant. Because of this truth, my identity as a woman rests in the fact that Christ really does desire my happiness and joy, ultimately, because He loves me. To quote Venerable Fulton Sheen, “God made you to be happy. He made you for your happiness, not His. He loves us because He put some of His love in us. God does not love us because we are valuable; we are valuable because He loves us.”

Sisters, when we are lost, God asks us: “what happened to you and where are you?” Imagine what your life would look like if fear, anxiety, doubt or worry did not dictate any of your decisions. Imagine letting go of control, of your own carefully crafted plan for your life and trusting that God’s plan and timing are so much better than what we can conjure up for ourselves. Imagine surrendering everything. What would your life look like?

Through Mary,

Sabrina