On the care of souls (or becoming a curate)

As the days and hours and minutes and seconds tick down to when the the successor to the Apostles lays his hands upon my head and speaks words that sanctify and set apart, through the power of the Holy Spirit, I am

frankly

scared.

Scared & honored.  Why you may ask?

I will be entrusted with the spiritual lives and well-being of many people, people who have real hurts and pains, people who are broken, and sinful, and forgiven.

I think of my own messes and sins in my life and I get scared that there are others out there like me and that I’m supposed to help them discover Jesus and introduce them to the Church, His Body.

But I have been called and that calling has been confirmed.  The Church has chosen me as I sought discernment through it and the Holy Spirit.

So here I am, getting ready to step into the role of a curate or the caretaker of souls, in my suburban Atlanta parish.

And the words that slip my lips are the words that started this journey:  Here I am Lord, send me.

Followed quickly with a:  Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

And that will be, and has been, my prayer for my journey.

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