My Story
Prologue: The Great Romantic
First and foremost, I, Jacqueline Rae, was a thought in the mind of God. I did not yet exist, but God always existed. He knew me before I was even conceived (Jeremiah 1:5). Now, as God was planning to create me—my femininity, brown hair, and tall body—He had an awesome plan in mind. It was so awesome, that I can’t even say what it is. Sorry to disappoint you, but I have only the slightest sliver of what the awesome plan is. I’m sure I will get to know a bit more as I live on in life, but for now, it is only a sliver.
God knew that I would reject Him. I would willingly break myself from my relationship with Him (Take a look at the book of Genesis). I would turn away from His love. He knew that because of sin, I would often choose myself over Him. That’s why this Smart Guy sent His Son, Jesus, into the world (John 3:16). He sent Jesus so that I would have the opportunity to come back to God and His love; so that my relationship would be restored with God; so that all of the times I’d choose myself over God, Jesus would choose me over Himself.
Since God wanted me so badly (and everyone else of course...), He sent Jesus to take on the damage man made by sin. Jesus died, as we all know, and Jesus rose, as all Christians know (Just read the bible--especially the New Testament. It talks about Christ's death and resurrection).
God knew that even though He sent His Son to redeem me, I would still choose myself over Him. I would still turn away from His love. Even if I claimed myself as a lover of Jesus, I would still sin. I could love God, but I would love Him most imperfectly (Romans 3:23).
Knowing this, God was ready to accept this imperfect love. He craved my love and found me beautiful. God's love is known as the Holy Spirit (see glossary section for more information on the Trinity) God the Holy Spirit is the perfect love between God the Father and God the Son (let’s call Him “Love” since that is what He is). Love would give Himself to me perfectly so that if I gave my imperfect love to Him, He would make it perfect. Does that make sense? Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with poetic words. In simple terms, I mean: Jesus came so that He could renew my relationship with God.
So, God was ready. He created me, and He was madly in love with me. I would be kicking and crying from the moment I was born, prone to reject Him, yet He wanted me. The great romantic that He is, had a master plan to woo me. He was going to win my affection by bombarding me with His clever, persistent, and totally amazing love.
Chapter 1: Knowing ABOUT Jesus
Bombarded With Love
I'll explain the nun costume in a minute. First, let's imagine me as a baby since that is where I left off on my last post. As I mentioned in the prologue, God was planning to win my affection by bombarding me with His clever, persistent, and totally amazing love. He gave me a twin sister, fantastic parents, and an awesome family. Even when I didn’t know His Name, He gave me the warmth of my mom’s embrace and the calming voice of my dad.
Everyone loves babies! I think that is not only because they are cute. I think that when we look at a baby, we look at them the same way God looks at a person. We see them as beautiful, full of goodness, and even if they cry outrageously or spit up on our clothes, we don’t hate them. In the same way, God sees all people as beautiful, full of goodness, and even if we cry outrageously or commit all sorts of wrongs, He doesn’t hate us.
God loved baby Jacqueline, as He loves all people.
Thank God for Parents
My parents knew of God’s love for me, and they had experienced it personally. Therefore, they wanted to introduce me to this Great Lover. They baptized me into the Roman Catholic Church a few months after my birth. They claimed me as Christ’s, and before I could even understand their words, they told me about my Great Lover.
I started to talk and I started to walk. I began to learn right from wrong, and I knew the name of Jesus. I knew Catholic prayers and I went to Church. I knew that God was love. My parents and catechists told me it was so, and I believed it was so. I was told that bread and wine become Jesus’ Body and Blood during Mass, and I believed it (See Eucharist in glossary page).
I knew the words, prayers, and theology, but did I really know it? Did I fully understand the ridiculousness of what I was believing and the amount of faith it took? Did I know how marvelously incredible these teachings were? NO, NO, NO.
Here is where some Catholics who are born into the faith explain that there was a big “aha” moment in which they truly became Catholics out of their own will and not their parents. They may have had a revelation/realization; when their knowledge of God became an experience in which what they knew in their head, suddenly was known in the heart. They went from knowing ABOUT Jesus to KNOWING Jesus.
This didn’t happen for me in one moment. Like many other Catholics, it was very gradual. I can’t pinpoint one exact moment for you in which I finally knew Jesus. However, I can pinpoint five hundred moments in which I knew Jesus more and more! Some moments stand out more than others, but I have up to dozens a day (I’ll keep sharing them as you keep reading this “book”). Some moments are when I look at the sky and am like, Oh God! You exist! Others are when I’m listening to a reading during Church and I suddenly think, So that’s what it means! Even those who have big “aha” moments can see moments in their past, where the love of God was pelting them and they didn’t know it, or they see how each day, they renew their devotion to Jesus and gradually grow in fervor and understanding.
About That Nun Picture...
My gradual growth in my relationship with Jesus started with a childlike interest in God. Think of a relationship between a man and woman—it starts off with interest, not vows, love, and commitment. I loved going to religious education classes and I enjoyed praying with my family. An all-loving God that we get to talk to whenever we want sounded pretty awesome.
So, I went to church and I prayed. By the time I was in elementary school, I’d do fun Catholic things like naming my guardian angel (whose name is Sammy, by the way) and reading about the lives of the saints. Now, being a saint had a nice ring to it. I mean, becoming a famous person who does heroic acts and is known for their great virtue—who wouldn’t want that? I guess I was only thinking about canonized saints—the famous people. There are bazillions of saints who we've never heard of and don't have the title of “Saint” in front of their names. However, I thought, “I want to be a canonized saint. Famous and well-loved by people.” I wanted to do all of the great things saints did. Oh, and that included performing miracles, having visions, and being complimented all the time about how holy I was.
As Catholics know, saints are not people who do great things and are famous. Rather, they are people who are so totally in love with God, that they allow that love to overflow from them. Clearly, I did not understand what being a saint was all about as I was missing the “love of God” part in all of this and turned it to “love of me.”
Our dear God was likely thinking, “Oh, my little daughter, Jacqueline. She wants to be a saint. Yes, I will make her a saint, but it’s going to be a lot different than what she is planning. That’s okay. I gave her this desire for greatness. As she seeks Me, she will find Me, thus discovering the truth of Who I Am.”
My head filled with fantasies. I was disappointed when statues of Jesus didn’t come to life for me or I sinned by being mean to my sisters. After all, saints have visions (please note my sarcasm) and know how to love their sisters!
What could I do? How could I reach sainthood? I looked through my books on the lives of the saints. What did the great saints have in common? I ignored the fact that their love-filled relationship with God was what they shared and instead concluded that most of the saints were either priests or nuns.
Now, I was in fourth grade and it was career day at school. That meant we got to go to school dressed as what we wanted to be when we grew up. Guess what I wanted to be? A nun. The picture at the top of the article attests to that.
I wish I could say it was my immense love for God that originally inspired my desire to radically give everything to Jesus, but I was originally inspired by my desire to become an impressive saint. Did I truly know what being a nun meant? Nope. Did I even have a devotion to the Eucharist? Not even close. Jesus was okay with that. He was ready to take my desire for greatness by showing me Greatness Himself.
Chapter 2: KNOWING Jesus
Body and Blood
The Eucharist. He is the Eucharist.
“Are you crazy?” You may ask, “All of Jesus is contained in a piece of bread and a cup of wine? What?”
Yes. Jesus is present in the form of bread and wine. The night before Jesus was crucified, He gave His disciples His Body and Blood. Hence, He said, “Take this all of you and eat of it. This is My Body. This is My blood.” (See Mathew 26:26-28, Mark 14:22-25, Luke 22:17-20, John 6:22-59)
So, we Catholics believe that the same Jesus Who walked this earth, died on the cross, and rose from the dead is not just sitting up in heaven watching us and He is not just “alive in our hearts and minds.” We know that He is physically present in the Eucharist. That’s why we go to Mass, and we have priests so that they, with the power and authority of God, can give us Jesus in the Eucharist. We visit Catholic churches because Jesus is there. We eat bread and wine when we go to Mass because we are consuming all of Jesus.
In second grade, I made my First Communion (first reception of the Eucharist). I knew in my mind that Jesus was present because that is what my parents and catechists told me. However, it wasn’t until fourth or fifth grade that I started thinking, “Oh my goodness! Jesus? I’m receiving Jesus? Jesus…that Jesus…all of Jesus…the strong carpenter arms, the nail-marked hands and feet, the heart burning with love, the divinity of God--the all-powerful, miracle-working, forgiving God!”
My mind was blown, and it continues to practically blow up every time I realize Who I’m really receiving when I’m receiving the Eucharist.
Jesus: An Awesome Person to Know
In this age of late elementary school, I started to know Jesus and stopped simply knowing about Him. Now, for a quick recap of my last post. I wrote that I wanted to be a nun because I thought that was my best shot at becoming an impressive saint. In middle school, I read more and more about the lives of the great saints. I would twist my lips though, when I read about a saint hearing the actual voice of Jesus while praying or having the ability to heal a blind man. Why couldn’t I do that? These great people often vowed themselves as virgins and quickly devoted their lives to God as nuns and priests. If becoming a nun was what it took to put “saint” in front of the name “Jacqueline,” I was willing.
However, as I got to know Jesus—especially as the Eucharist—I started to have other reasons for wanting to become a nun. Sure, becoming a nun would make me a saint (please know, I’m being sarcastic!), but look at all of the other benefits! Benefits like…Jesus. Nuns do everything with Jesus, and for me, spending time with Jesus was getting pretty amazing! I could talk to Him about anything and He would understand. Even better, He would talk back! He would speak to me whenever I read the bible or when I had a discussion with my dad about God. He spoke to me when I knelt to pray. I didn’t have the miraculous visions that I originally wanted, but He spoke nonetheless, and I saw Him everywhere. He was in nature and in others. He was most fully present in Church! Mass was when I got to physically embrace Him (receive the Eucharist) and hear Him tell me He was perpetually giving Himself to me in love.
I learned that nuns spent all of their time with Jesus. “Who wouldn’t want to be a nun?” I thought. “Everyone should be nuns and priests so they can spend every second living for and with God.”
I entered middle school and my desire for “nunhood” grew as I knew Jesus more and more. He would hold my hand when my social anxiety was kicking in. He was present when other kids made fun of me. He was there to play with me and He would inspire my creativity. I’d dream about going to the eternal kingdom to spend time with Him and His angels in His heavenly palace. He challenged me to be kind to my sisters and classmates. He asked me to pray more because He loved talking to me too.
I was falling in love with Jesus. Slowly, He increasingly won my affection with His constant presence and His gift of self. The great romantic God that He is was wooing me, and I was unable to resist.
Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?
The Poor Clares
Nuns. Nuns. Nuns. During my middle school years, I definitely grew in my desire to be a nun. I had read a book titled, Break in at the Basilica, by Dianne Ahern. It was a fictional mystery about a nun who was a secret agent for the pope. In this particular book, St. Clare of Assisi (a woman from the 1200's) was introduced to me. St. Clare was a woman who gave up marriage, wealth, family, and power so that she could become a nun. She founded the religious order known as the Poor Clares. After reading about the Poor Clares in this book, I said to my mom, “I want to be a Poor Clare.”
“Ok,” My dear mom said, “how about you write to them and see if you can be pen pals?”
My eyes lit up. “Yes!”
So, mom went on the internet, looked up the Poor Clares, and found a lovely community in Cleveland, Ohio. I wrote to Mother Abbess telling her that I really liked the Poor Clares.
She wrote to me in return!
This was the start of a series of letters exchanged between myself and the community. Mother Abbess answered my questions, encouraged my desire to be a nun, and gently listened to my account of the Lord’s call. I was absolutely delighted every time I received a letter from them. A prayer card was always included and usually some sort of brochure or booklet that described their way of life.
Poor Clare nuns are beautiful. They go barefoot throughout the convent as a sign of their poverty and wear flowing black veils and simple brown habits. They wear a ring as a sign of their espousal to Jesus Christ and are cloistered, which means they only leave the convent for the occasional doctor appointment so they may instead, fully concentrate on prayer.
Remember how I mentioned that Jesus is present in the Eucharist during my last post? Well, the Poor Clares have a deep devotion to the Eucharist. They live in the same house as Jesus Himself! They spend hours adoring Him and praying for the world.
The more I read about these women while in middle school, about their radical, romantic way of living for and with Jesus, the more I wanted to be a Poor Clare.
Taylor Swift’s “Love Story”
My fantasies increased. St. Clare knew how to be a radical, great saint, and it was my goal to follow in her footsteps. She became a nun at eighteen like many other saints, so that meant I had to become a nun ASAP!
Here is the thing: Nuns are women who “marry” Jesus. Jesus and a nun dedicate their lives to each other through vows the way a man and a woman dedicate their lives to each other through marriage vows. Now, if I was to marry Jesus, I needed Him to…ask me.
I waited. And I waited. He didn’t ask me.
Ok. Jesus wasn’t asking. “Jesus, will you marry me?”
Laugh if you will, but I was completely serious. “I love You,” I said to Jesus, “You’re amazing! You’re my BFF and I want to spend all of my days with You. You love me--duh, Your Name is Jesus Christ—God Himself! Now, if we love each other like this, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t get married!”
This seemed to be a time that Jesus was silent when I talked to Him. Or…He was speaking and I didn’t like His answer of, “Jacqueline, Patience. Wait. We’ve been dating for a while now, but you’re still only twelve years old! I’m not going anywhere. I do wish to take you to an even deeper level of friendship, but you are not St. Clare. You are my Jacqueline. I will tell you when the time is right.”
Yeah, I admit that Jesus did say that, but I did not like His answer. So, I begged Him some more.
Now, I’m going to assume you’ve heard of the song, “Love Story” by Taylor Swift. If not, look it up. This song became my number one during my middle school years. The song is about Romeo and Juliet. Juliet’s dad tells Romeo to stay away from his daughter. Juliet asks Romeo to save her from her forbidding father and to run away with her. Eventually, Romeo sets things straight with the father and asks Juliet to marry him.
I imagined myself as Juliet and Jesus as Romeo. My forbidding father was who I found represented God the Father. I figured that God the Father said that it was not yet time for me to marry Jesus, His Son. Yet, I begged Jesus to take me away from all of the fading stuff like money and clothes and let me run away and marry Him, so that I may have heavenly wealth and spiritual jewels.
I awaited the day that Jesus would say, “Marry me, Jacqueline,” the way Romeo said, “Marry me, Juliet,” in the song.
I played the song over and over again--just dreaming—no proposal. This continued into my high school years.
Depression
With all of these fantasies, I have to give you a quick review of a real illness that invaded my life. This will be a brief mention of it, as I will go more in depth in future blog posts.
I was a freshman in high school when I was first diagnosed with depression. Why? I’ve asked that question a lot. I believe I was born with this illness in me, and that it was triggered by entering high school.
I was mad at Jesus. I wanted to be His bride—why couldn’t I be His bride now? I was overwhelmed by bullying, swearing, and peers "sexualizing" everything. I felt like I was the only one who believed or cared about God, even though that was far from the truth. I felt like I was in hell, so I asked Jesus to take me to the convent since nuns live their heaven on earth.
No religious order accepted fourteen-year-olds. I despaired.
It felt like Jesus had left me; rejected and abandoned me.
Yet, help was given to me by my sweet Jesus. God made sure to give me awesome parents who got me into therapy and I started taking medication. My dear therapist assured me, “Jesus is sitting right beside you, holding your hand.”
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was Jesus speaking through my therapist, “Jacqueline! I’m here! You can’t feel me, but I AM here! I AM speaking, even if you don’t recognize My voice! I AM before you, even if you don’t recognize My appearance!”
I transferred to a small private school. Things definitely got better. I started laughing again, made friends, and I felt comfortable. Jesus was in the chapel at school, so I could always go to Him with any of my joys and sorrows.
I had hope and I fell deeper in love with Jesus. My desire to be a nun was still there, and it also started to mature as I realized that I didn’t have to be a nun to be a saint. I knew I could get married and still be a saint, but I thought, "What woman wouldn't want the King of the Universe as her husband?"
When visiting the chapel at school, I would look at Jesus in the Eucharist. “I want You alone! I really like this order of Poor Clares. They live 100% for You. What do You think about me entering the convent after high school?”
Jesus smiled at me, as usual.
I smiled back, forcing myself to be patient. “Only when You tell, me, though! I know I've asked You countless times, but I promise, I won't enter the convent until You ask me!”
Chapter 4: Jacqueline, Will You Marry Me?
Proposal
I was love-sick my senior year in high school. I couldn’t get enough of Jesus and I even thought to myself, “Jesus is my date for the homecoming dance.” He was the only One I wanted.
So, I dressed up with some girlfriends, put on some heels and went to the dance. Now, I’ve always struggled at dances for many reasons. One is that I have social anxiety. Another is that I worried, like most people, about fitting in and being liked. I was one of the girls who stood on the sidelines when the slow dances came on. I also had no interest in flirting or dating (though I still considered myself to be dating Jesus). Also, as I was dancing and watching others dance, I was thinking about how I wanted so much more. More than makeup, clothes, popularity, food, and little thrills.
I smiled, though, and did my best to have fun since there is nothing wrong with dancing with friends and celebrating.
As I danced, Jesus took the opportunity to speak to me. I became very aware that Jesus was present in the chapel down the hall. See, I went to a private catholic school, so the Eucharist was always available in the building.
You could visit me. Jesus spoke to my heart. I’m right here. You can just stop in and say “hello.”
I grew annoyed and frustrated as Jesus kept telling me He was there. I had an extreme yearning to see Him, but I was at a dance! This was not a time for prayer. I needed to just socialize and have fun dancing, not sneak away to the chapel with Jesus.
Jacqueline. He kept calling me.
“No!” I said back to Him. “What if someone saw me going to the chapel? What would they think of me?”
I want to see you and you want to see Me. He seemed to say.
I relented. “Fine. Fine. I’m coming. Just for a moment.”
After darting away from the people, my bare feet hurried down the hall and I opened the door to the chapel.
Relief and awe met me as I saw Jesus (the Eucharist).
I let out a shaky breath. “Hi," I said, kneeling down and swiping my hair behind my ear. He was only a couple feet away from me, in the golden Tabernacle. The lights were barely on and the thump of music from down the hall vibrated the ground.
“I…” I started, clearly speechless. Looking at my hands, I began to tell Him a jumble of things but was interrupted.
A few notes from a familiar song met my ears.
My gaze darted up to Jesus as my mouth parted in surprise.
It was “Love Story” by Taylor Swift. Read my previous blog post, “Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?” if you want to know what this song meant to me.
I can’t explain what happened. I can’t put it into words because no words were actually spoken. It was a conversation—an understanding—that took place in my heart. We communicated with our eyes. He spoke directly to my soul. This will hardly suffice, but I’ll leave you with these words: “Jacqueline, will you marry Me?” Jesus asked.
“Yes!” I said, “yes”.
Taking Action
It was official. Jesus and I were engaged. I wrote to the Poor Clares again and I asked to visit them. After visiting them, I became more confident that was what God wanted me to do. He wanted to marry me, and He was asking me to begin the process of becoming a Poor Clare nun.
After some more encouragement from the Holy Spirit, I requested an application. After a few months, I was accepted and ready to enter the convent after I graduated from high school.
My entrance day was decided to be October 11th, 2014. I waited in earnest and my soul was practically flying in heaven as I dreamed and prepared for my entrance. I was going to marry Jesus! At last! I was going to be a nun!
I would be following in the steps of my favorite saint, St. Clare. I would leave home at seventeen and give up wealth, family, and all material things for Jesus.
I was going to miss my family terribly, as the Poor Clares are cloistered nuns, meaning they never leave the convent, except for the occasional doctor appointment. This is so they can fully concentrate on prayer. Still, I was willing to make the sacrifice. If leaving home meant entering my heavenly home at the convent, I was willing.
October 11th came at last. I was as ready as I could be. With a large smile and trembling hands, I stepped into the cloister.
Chapter 5: The Obsessions and Compulsions
Living the Life
I was living the life of a cloistered nun! It was my dream come true. I was living like my favorite saint, St. Clare, and was with a community of wonderful, happy women.
I got to see Jesus all the time. He was there—the Eucharist—and I was blessed to pray in the chapel at least five times a day (at least!). Most of the time, I prayed with the sisters, and sometimes I had private prayer. I was given instructions on basic Catholicism and the life of a Poor Clare. I found it fascinating and I was “wowed” by the sisters’ humility, praise of God, and how every little action was for Jesus. Pictures of Jesus were everywhere. The name of Jesus was repeated constantly and used with the utmost reverence. During meals, we would pray and listen to a sister read from a spiritual book or listen to a spiritual tape. Together, we had choir practice, enjoyed recreation, and decorated the convent for feast days. We made gifts for sisters on their anniversary of vows, prayed for the deceased sisters of the community, wrote to Poor Clare communities around the world, carved pumpkins for Halloween, and had picnics.
There I was, living the life, courting Jesus, talking to Him all the time, and yet…something felt “off.”
A trial quickly came upon me. This trial was going to hurt, but Jesus was going to give me all the graces I needed to get through it. I wouldn't see the benefit of it at first, but He knew that in time, I'd experience suffering that doesn't end in death, but with life!
Here is what He was saying to me (I'll take it from Scripture). I didn't understand or realize what He meant, but He spoke nonetheless:
Jacqueline, for a little while, you are to suffer through various trials. Your faith is more precious than gold. Gold is perishable and therefore, must be tested by fire. (See 1 Peter 6-8). A little while and you will no longer see Me, and again a little while later and you will see Me. (See John 16:16) As the Father sent Me into the world to suffer and die, so I send you into the world to suffer and die. I consecrated Myself for you, so that you also may be consecrated in truth. (See John 17: 18-19) What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later. (See John 13:7) You sow in tears, but will reap with cries of joy. (See Psalm 125:5)
The Trial
I thought that giving up family, clothes, money, electronics, and independence was a step toward sanctity, but I quickly came to the conclusion that it wasn’t nearly enough. Every action and thought I had, had become a sin.
Looking at my reflection in a window: it was a sin—how vain I was! Exaggerating a story in conversation: it was a sin—I was a liar! Being too slow when cleaning: it was a sin—I was lazy and idle! Distracted during Mass: it was a sin—I only cared for myself and not God. I didn’t have the joy of Jesus in me: it was a sin—I was a sour faced Christian!
Sin. Sin. Sin. It became my obsession. My expectations for myself grew more and more, making me feel absolutely terrible. Then, I felt terrible about feeling terrible, because a nun is always happy (Warning: Sarcasm).
My head told me that I couldn’t muster enough devotion for Jesus or His saints. I needed to have great devotion to every saint and pray equally to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I needed to pray more. I made myself do countless daily ritual prayers including praying for each person I knew and knew about with utmost strength and fervor. I never felt complete or finished. I was never satisfied and always felt compelled to do more. I needed to do more. So, I did more, and it still wasn’t enough.
My head also said that I had to deny myself as well because I was a horrible, horrible sinner. Penance! No salt on my food! Sit up straighter in the chapel! Straighter! No chap stick, no matter how dry my lips were!
It wasn’t enough! It wasn’t enough!
The hardest thing was that with all of these prayers and penances, I had to do them perfectly and do them with complete happiness. I don’t know about you, but doing all of that stuff every day on top of the regular “nun” expectations is pretty hard—almost impossible to accomplish. What is even more impossible is to do it with a large smile and to be overflowing with happiness.
I wasn’t overflowing with happiness—I was overwhelmed! As I became extremely unhappy, I blamed it on homesickness and not trying hard enough at the nun’s life. If I was holier and less of a sinner, I would be able to happily serve the Lord as a Poor Clare.
I started calling myself a worm and a maggot. I saw myself as deserving hell. I began to think I was no longer in love with Jesus, but in love with the devil.
Refusing to acknowledge that I was internally struggling, I didn’t tell my Novice Mistress or Mother Abbess. I continued thinking, “Jesus asked me to go to the convent with Him. I have to stay. Nothing is wrong. This is where I’m meant to be. Of course, this life is hard. I knew it would be. Jesus is helping me and I’m staying till He tells me to leave. I still want to be His bride! I want to take vows and marry Jesus!”
Do you see how confusing this was? On one end, my mind twisted so much to think that I was in love with the devil, while at the same time, I was still clinging to my desire to be Christ’s bride! I was torn and utterly confused. What was I to do?
Chapter 6: A Diagnosis
Thirty Days Devotion
During my last post, I wrote about my time at the convent. I was awed by the life of the Poor Clare nuns and the wonderful joy that they had. However, I was not sharing in that joy. Rather, I was torn and confused by my racing thoughts. My thoughts were obsessed with every little thing possibly being a sin and I was performing compulsory prayers and penances.
Even though I was unhappy, I still wanted to "marry" Jesus with all of my heart (nuns are called "brides of Christ" since they give up marriage to man to live completely for God).
“I’m going to pray a Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph,” I decided in February of 2015 as I knelt in the chapel of the Poor Clares. “By the end of it, I hope God will give me assurance that my vocation (my calling in life) is to be a Poor Clare!" I still had at least six years ahead of me before I'd become an actual nun, but I wanted peaceful assurance that the convent was where I was meant to be. All of the nuns talked about the peace they received from living the Poor Clare life. Since I wasn't feeling very peaceful, I thought I'd better bring this up to Jesus in prayer (and I could ask St. Joseph to pray as well).
Now, the prayer for the Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph is very long. One says it every day for thirty (hence the name) days. I did it for the thirty days leading up to the feast of St. Joseph on March 19th. For the next month, prayer was the opposite of peaceful. I was disgusted with myself for not praying with perfect attention and devotion.
At one point, I asked myself, “Am I depressed? Depressed like how I was in 9th grade? (See my blog post "Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?")” Remembering that depression is usually recognizable after a constantly “down” mood for two weeks or more, I thought, “Okay, I’ll see if this deep sadness persists for the next two weeks. If it does, then I really might be having a depressive episode. God, let that not be the case!"
A Diagnosis
It was the feast of St. Joseph. I had completed my Thirty Days Devotion and things were not going well. My thoughts were racing at an uncontrollable speed. I was terribly confused and extremely distressed. I cried a lot and was in a sort of shock as this thought entered my mind: God may not want me to become a nun.
I denied it! It couldn’t be. Jesus asked me to go to the convent. I was perplexed that He may wish for me to leave.
By this point, I knew I'd been feeling depressed for two weeks; a lot more than two weeks if I was being honest with myself. I had to tell my Novice Mistress. I told her and it surprised her because I seemed to hide it well. I also told her that going to prayer in the chapel was almost unbearable, I was so ashamed of my sinfulness. She called for Mother Abbess, who called for a psychiatrist immediately.
Upon speaking to the psychiatrist, he quickly diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder. Major Depression is a mental illness that can have numerous causes (examples: a chemical imbalance in the brain, biological factors, social factors, etc.). It is recognized by a constantly depressed mood, low self-esteem, despair, anxiety, and inability to function.
I asked Mother Abbess if she was willing to let me stay, even with the diagnosis. She agreed and made sure I started some medication. My depression only increased and my anxiety skyrocketed. My inwards felt like total chaos. My confusion was ringing like an alarm. I began to wonder if I could keep living this prayerful life with such dark thoughts and such a depressed mood.
“Jacqueline,” Mother Abbess said to me after I told her more about my internal battle and that the medications were not working, “Perhaps this means that this isn’t the right fit, or at least, it isn’t the right time.”
I cried, agreeing with her.
Remember me hoping that at the end of my Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph, God would reassure me that this was where I was meant to be? Well, I got the opposite answer. My diagnosis of depression, the advice of my Novice Mistress and Mother Abbess, the advice of my psychiatrist, and my growing inability to pray, led me to finally surrender to the fact that this was not a healthy fit.
It was April of 2015, and my parents were called. They drove the next day to come pick me up from the convent. I looked at Jesus one more time in the chapel of the Poor Clares. I left Him with a broken heart and complete bewilderment. I had no idea why He would ask me to go to the convent just to end up leaving it.
Chapter 7: Another Diagnosis
My parents wrapped me in their loving arms! My family welcomed me home from the convent in April of 2015, willing to help me with whatever I needed. I got a job at a greenhouse within my first week back, and I was just going to give myself as much time as I needed to sort out "my life".
It felt really challenging to sort out my life without some help from Jesus. I asked Him for help, and I'll be honest, I thought Jesus had stopped speaking to me, but He was always speaking through the encouragement, concern, and help of my family and friends.
So, I was working full time. And my depression did not go away. It got a whole lot worse!
I was very hurt and confused about why I had depression and why I left the convent. I thought God had rejected me. I despaired.
Work actually stopped suddenly for me because I had to go through some intensive depression treatment. Thank the Good Lord that I received another diagnosis! It's called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder(OCD). This diagnosis was a blessing from God! When I realized that I had OCD, I was able to get the proper treatment. Some Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and medication can help with depression, but I needed treatment for my OCD.
Quick OCD lesson: OCD attacks the things that a person holds as important. Think if you have OCD and health is really important to you. Your OCD may manifest itself through obsessions related to cleanliness (and thus cause you to perform a compulsion like hand-washing). For me, my faith is super important to me. That is why my OCD manifests itself through obsessions related to sin and morality (and thus causes me to perform compulsions such as repeating prayers or performing penances). This obsession with sin and morality is a sub-type of OCD known as scrupulosity.
Now, anyone can have a scruple. Say you pray and the thought occurs to you that you were not paying enough attention while saying the prayer. The scruple is worrying that you may have sinned by not paying enough attention. Most people will just shrug this scruple off their shoulder. Oh well. They may think. No one can pray perfectly. Or. I'll try harder next time. God understands that I can't always be 100% attentive.
This is not so for a person with scrupulosity!
Scrupulosity causes a person to obsess and worry that they are a terrible sinner! They will sweat and wonder if they are going to hell. They may think that if they really loved God and cared about others, they would be able to pray with complete attention.
These scruples become diagnosed as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder when the scruples lead to compulsory behavior. For example, I will repeat a prayer until I think I've said it with 100% attention, I'll scold and punish myself for my "sinfulness", I'll repeat phrases to God about what a terrible sinner I am and how desperate I am for His mercy, and/or I'll go to confession and even possibly re-confess my "sin" during later confessions. The anxiety caused from these obsessions never fully goes away after performing the compulsions. Compulsions lesson the anxiety slightly but then return with even worse anxiety and an even greater need to do more compulsions.
Yikes! No wonder why I was depressed! Every action, every thought, and every prayer were sins and I would repeatedly try to make up for it, sin again, and try to make up for it. It goes in this never ending cycle, that only gets worse if not treated.
My parents were ready to do anything to get this treated. They wanted to see their daughter Jacqueline talking again! Not the voice of OCD!
Treatment did include hospitalization, and I'll probably get into that with later blog posts. For now, know that I started getting better. I began what is known as Exposure and Response Prevention. It is a therapy that treats OCD. With a therapist, I do exposures, which is exposing myself to my worst fears (for example: saying a prayer while distracted) and then I don't respond to it with compulsions (for example: repeating the prayer, scolding myself, etc.). Instead, I just sit with the anxiety of being a "distracted pray-er" until my level of anxiety goes down.
Now, it also took finding the right medication, regular cognitive behavioral therapy, support from my loved ones, group therapy, companionship with others who suffer from OCD, finding coping skills, and pet therapy to get me feeling good again. I firmly believe that this was all Jesus in action, taking care of His beloved!
As for all of those articles I posted about me "marrying" Jesus (nuns are called "brides of Christ" because they give up marriage to a man to be with God)? Did Jesus actually not ask me to marry Him since I didn't end up becoming a nun? Did Jesus call off the "wedding" and tell me to go to college first?
I'm Married to Jesus, and I am a Single, Catholic, College Student
College Bound
My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder didn't go away, but it certainly became more manageable. I still struggle with it presently, but I've got tons of tools to help me overcome it.
(Oh, by the way, if you've been reading this since the prologue, this is kind of like the epilogue but not really since I'm only twenty and I've got a way to go till I die (God willing)...anyway just know that this is the last chapter of my "book" or "series" or whatever you want to call it. I decided not to bother titling it by a chapter or "Epilogue")
It took me a couple years, but I started feeling happy again and prayer became easier. Even with me feeling better, I was still confused about why I entered the convent and left. Despite this confusion, I was ready to take a new step--to go to a different form of life: College life!
I never thought I'd end up at Central Michigan University (CMU). My twin sister, a student at CMU, had invited me to a church retreat at CMU in 2015. After this retreat, visiting my sister at her college several times, and talking it over with Jesus and my parents, I decided to attend CMU in the fall of 2016.
Happiness!
Guys, I'm so happy I'm at college and at CMU. I love the people and I love the campus and I love the classes. There is a Catholic church right smack in the middle of the campus, so Jesus is always present! I'm now in my sophomore year and I'm pretty set on studying English and Religion. I'll get more in depth on different college experiences in later posts, but before I wrap up this "book", I want to share with you an amazing discovery that has brought me indescribable joy.
Mind = Blown
So, last year (my freshman year), there was a night that I listened to the song "Love Story" by Taylor Swift (See Chapters 3 and 4 for more information on how that song played in my personal journey ). This song usually made me really sad and full of longing. This was the song that Jesus played to "propose" to me. It was how I knew I was to enter the convent and be His bride (nuns are called "brides of Christ" since they give up marriage to a man to devote themselves to God). Now as I listened to the song, I was confused that upon entering the convent, I was diagnosed with all of that mental illness stuff. I wondered, If I was supposed to "marry" Jesus, then why wasn't I still at the convent, preparing to become a nun? Was I just imagining that God wanted me to be totally His? Did He never propose in the first place? Did He reject me as His bride (See previous chapters on the blog for more information on past events)?
As I listened to "Love Story" this particular night at college, it didn't fill me with my usual hurt and confusion and longing. Instead, almost no feelings aroused at all when listening to the song. The lyrics seemed so superficial. It was about Juliet just waiting her days away for Romeo to marry her. That's what I had been doing: waiting and waiting for Jesus to sweep me in His arms and for us to live happily ever after. I thought that becoming a nun was how this would happen.
Yet, as I listened to "Love Story" that night, I wondered why this song no longer touched me. I realized that this was because God’s love is so much more than the "love story" I had always envisioned.
God’s love story includes a cross. A cross in which Jesus poured out His most precious blood upon us in the ultimate act of love. And Jesus was asking me to partake in that. It didn’t include pretty dresses and jewels. It included sacrifice, pain, and trial. It didn’t include me waiting and waiting for my prince to come. It included action and participation on my part.
Oh, I am in love! It’s not the type of love I originally thought. Not the love of the movies and the fairy tales. It’s more. So much more! I get to partake in the exchange of love between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Actively! Right now.
Every time I receive Holy Communion, the Lord touches my lips and enters into my very being. This Lord Who loves me and pours Himself—naked and bare and vulnerable—He pours Himself out to me. I don’t need to wait for God to marry me. I don’t need to wait for Mr. Right to walk into my life. I don’t even need to wait for heaven.
I get to have it all now. It’s all there in the Eucharist. The Trinitarian God offering Himself to me, and I am invited to return that love—to partake fully in it.
Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matthew 10:7, Mark 1:15, Luke 10:9). He didn’t say, “The kingdom of heaven is at the end of the world. The kingdom of heaven is when you die.” “The kingdom of heaven is when you get married.” “The kingdom of heaven is when you take religious vows or become ordained a priest.”
No. People, the kingdom of heaven is here and now! HERE AND NOW! My Prince is already here. Constantly, I come to Him, broken. Constantly He rescues me. He gives Himself totally to me, and I get to give myself totally in return. This is the marriage covenant! The dream—the vision—the love story!
My destination of heaven begins now. My union with God is now. Sorry--I can't say it enough! Now. Now. Now.
St. Therese of Lisieux hits the nail when she says, “my vocation is love.” Priest, nun, married, single…yeah, that’s a discernment process and a journey, but we have an underlying vocation. The other vocations are just expressions of the deeper vocation. A vocation each of us is called to: Love! And we don’t need to wait for God to reveal it to us. We don’t need to discern if we’re called to love. We know we are. Jesus told us so. We’re called to the greatest love, for “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) That’s what Jesus did for us, and that’s what we’re called to do daily.
Those years ago, when I was in high school, and Jesus asked me to marry Him--I thought that meant I had to be a nun. Now, I see that every person is called to marry Jesus. I don't need to be a nun to be totally God's. I don't need to be a nun to be a saint. No more saying, "I will marry Jesus." I am married to Jesus! People, I'm married to Jesus, and I am a single, Catholic, college student!
Hmmm....I think I'm in heaven..oh wait--that's because I am!!!!
Prologue: The Great Romantic
First and foremost, I, Jacqueline Rae, was a thought in the mind of God. I did not yet exist, but God always existed. He knew me before I was even conceived (Jeremiah 1:5). Now, as God was planning to create me—my femininity, brown hair, and tall body—He had an awesome plan in mind. It was so awesome, that I can’t even say what it is. Sorry to disappoint you, but I have only the slightest sliver of what the awesome plan is. I’m sure I will get to know a bit more as I live on in life, but for now, it is only a sliver.
God knew that I would reject Him. I would willingly break myself from my relationship with Him (Take a look at the book of Genesis). I would turn away from His love. He knew that because of sin, I would often choose myself over Him. That’s why this Smart Guy sent His Son, Jesus, into the world (John 3:16). He sent Jesus so that I would have the opportunity to come back to God and His love; so that my relationship would be restored with God; so that all of the times I’d choose myself over God, Jesus would choose me over Himself.
Since God wanted me so badly (and everyone else of course...), He sent Jesus to take on the damage man made by sin. Jesus died, as we all know, and Jesus rose, as all Christians know (Just read the bible--especially the New Testament. It talks about Christ's death and resurrection).
God knew that even though He sent His Son to redeem me, I would still choose myself over Him. I would still turn away from His love. Even if I claimed myself as a lover of Jesus, I would still sin. I could love God, but I would love Him most imperfectly (Romans 3:23).
Knowing this, God was ready to accept this imperfect love. He craved my love and found me beautiful. God's love is known as the Holy Spirit (see glossary section for more information on the Trinity) God the Holy Spirit is the perfect love between God the Father and God the Son (let’s call Him “Love” since that is what He is). Love would give Himself to me perfectly so that if I gave my imperfect love to Him, He would make it perfect. Does that make sense? Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with poetic words. In simple terms, I mean: Jesus came so that He could renew my relationship with God.
So, God was ready. He created me, and He was madly in love with me. I would be kicking and crying from the moment I was born, prone to reject Him, yet He wanted me. The great romantic that He is, had a master plan to woo me. He was going to win my affection by bombarding me with His clever, persistent, and totally amazing love.
Chapter 1: Knowing ABOUT Jesus
Bombarded With Love
I'll explain the nun costume in a minute. First, let's imagine me as a baby since that is where I left off on my last post. As I mentioned in the prologue, God was planning to win my affection by bombarding me with His clever, persistent, and totally amazing love. He gave me a twin sister, fantastic parents, and an awesome family. Even when I didn’t know His Name, He gave me the warmth of my mom’s embrace and the calming voice of my dad.
Everyone loves babies! I think that is not only because they are cute. I think that when we look at a baby, we look at them the same way God looks at a person. We see them as beautiful, full of goodness, and even if they cry outrageously or spit up on our clothes, we don’t hate them. In the same way, God sees all people as beautiful, full of goodness, and even if we cry outrageously or commit all sorts of wrongs, He doesn’t hate us.
God loved baby Jacqueline, as He loves all people.
Thank God for Parents
My parents knew of God’s love for me, and they had experienced it personally. Therefore, they wanted to introduce me to this Great Lover. They baptized me into the Roman Catholic Church a few months after my birth. They claimed me as Christ’s, and before I could even understand their words, they told me about my Great Lover.
I started to talk and I started to walk. I began to learn right from wrong, and I knew the name of Jesus. I knew Catholic prayers and I went to Church. I knew that God was love. My parents and catechists told me it was so, and I believed it was so. I was told that bread and wine become Jesus’ Body and Blood during Mass, and I believed it (See Eucharist in glossary page).
I knew the words, prayers, and theology, but did I really know it? Did I fully understand the ridiculousness of what I was believing and the amount of faith it took? Did I know how marvelously incredible these teachings were? NO, NO, NO.
Here is where some Catholics who are born into the faith explain that there was a big “aha” moment in which they truly became Catholics out of their own will and not their parents. They may have had a revelation/realization; when their knowledge of God became an experience in which what they knew in their head, suddenly was known in the heart. They went from knowing ABOUT Jesus to KNOWING Jesus.
This didn’t happen for me in one moment. Like many other Catholics, it was very gradual. I can’t pinpoint one exact moment for you in which I finally knew Jesus. However, I can pinpoint five hundred moments in which I knew Jesus more and more! Some moments stand out more than others, but I have up to dozens a day (I’ll keep sharing them as you keep reading this “book”). Some moments are when I look at the sky and am like, Oh God! You exist! Others are when I’m listening to a reading during Church and I suddenly think, So that’s what it means! Even those who have big “aha” moments can see moments in their past, where the love of God was pelting them and they didn’t know it, or they see how each day, they renew their devotion to Jesus and gradually grow in fervor and understanding.
About That Nun Picture...
My gradual growth in my relationship with Jesus started with a childlike interest in God. Think of a relationship between a man and woman—it starts off with interest, not vows, love, and commitment. I loved going to religious education classes and I enjoyed praying with my family. An all-loving God that we get to talk to whenever we want sounded pretty awesome.
So, I went to church and I prayed. By the time I was in elementary school, I’d do fun Catholic things like naming my guardian angel (whose name is Sammy, by the way) and reading about the lives of the saints. Now, being a saint had a nice ring to it. I mean, becoming a famous person who does heroic acts and is known for their great virtue—who wouldn’t want that? I guess I was only thinking about canonized saints—the famous people. There are bazillions of saints who we've never heard of and don't have the title of “Saint” in front of their names. However, I thought, “I want to be a canonized saint. Famous and well-loved by people.” I wanted to do all of the great things saints did. Oh, and that included performing miracles, having visions, and being complimented all the time about how holy I was.
As Catholics know, saints are not people who do great things and are famous. Rather, they are people who are so totally in love with God, that they allow that love to overflow from them. Clearly, I did not understand what being a saint was all about as I was missing the “love of God” part in all of this and turned it to “love of me.”
Our dear God was likely thinking, “Oh, my little daughter, Jacqueline. She wants to be a saint. Yes, I will make her a saint, but it’s going to be a lot different than what she is planning. That’s okay. I gave her this desire for greatness. As she seeks Me, she will find Me, thus discovering the truth of Who I Am.”
My head filled with fantasies. I was disappointed when statues of Jesus didn’t come to life for me or I sinned by being mean to my sisters. After all, saints have visions (please note my sarcasm) and know how to love their sisters!
What could I do? How could I reach sainthood? I looked through my books on the lives of the saints. What did the great saints have in common? I ignored the fact that their love-filled relationship with God was what they shared and instead concluded that most of the saints were either priests or nuns.
Now, I was in fourth grade and it was career day at school. That meant we got to go to school dressed as what we wanted to be when we grew up. Guess what I wanted to be? A nun. The picture at the top of the article attests to that.
I wish I could say it was my immense love for God that originally inspired my desire to radically give everything to Jesus, but I was originally inspired by my desire to become an impressive saint. Did I truly know what being a nun meant? Nope. Did I even have a devotion to the Eucharist? Not even close. Jesus was okay with that. He was ready to take my desire for greatness by showing me Greatness Himself.
Chapter 2: KNOWING Jesus
Body and Blood
The Eucharist. He is the Eucharist.
“Are you crazy?” You may ask, “All of Jesus is contained in a piece of bread and a cup of wine? What?”
Yes. Jesus is present in the form of bread and wine. The night before Jesus was crucified, He gave His disciples His Body and Blood. Hence, He said, “Take this all of you and eat of it. This is My Body. This is My blood.” (See Mathew 26:26-28, Mark 14:22-25, Luke 22:17-20, John 6:22-59)
So, we Catholics believe that the same Jesus Who walked this earth, died on the cross, and rose from the dead is not just sitting up in heaven watching us and He is not just “alive in our hearts and minds.” We know that He is physically present in the Eucharist. That’s why we go to Mass, and we have priests so that they, with the power and authority of God, can give us Jesus in the Eucharist. We visit Catholic churches because Jesus is there. We eat bread and wine when we go to Mass because we are consuming all of Jesus.
In second grade, I made my First Communion (first reception of the Eucharist). I knew in my mind that Jesus was present because that is what my parents and catechists told me. However, it wasn’t until fourth or fifth grade that I started thinking, “Oh my goodness! Jesus? I’m receiving Jesus? Jesus…that Jesus…all of Jesus…the strong carpenter arms, the nail-marked hands and feet, the heart burning with love, the divinity of God--the all-powerful, miracle-working, forgiving God!”
My mind was blown, and it continues to practically blow up every time I realize Who I’m really receiving when I’m receiving the Eucharist.
Jesus: An Awesome Person to Know
In this age of late elementary school, I started to know Jesus and stopped simply knowing about Him. Now, for a quick recap of my last post. I wrote that I wanted to be a nun because I thought that was my best shot at becoming an impressive saint. In middle school, I read more and more about the lives of the great saints. I would twist my lips though, when I read about a saint hearing the actual voice of Jesus while praying or having the ability to heal a blind man. Why couldn’t I do that? These great people often vowed themselves as virgins and quickly devoted their lives to God as nuns and priests. If becoming a nun was what it took to put “saint” in front of the name “Jacqueline,” I was willing.
However, as I got to know Jesus—especially as the Eucharist—I started to have other reasons for wanting to become a nun. Sure, becoming a nun would make me a saint (please know, I’m being sarcastic!), but look at all of the other benefits! Benefits like…Jesus. Nuns do everything with Jesus, and for me, spending time with Jesus was getting pretty amazing! I could talk to Him about anything and He would understand. Even better, He would talk back! He would speak to me whenever I read the bible or when I had a discussion with my dad about God. He spoke to me when I knelt to pray. I didn’t have the miraculous visions that I originally wanted, but He spoke nonetheless, and I saw Him everywhere. He was in nature and in others. He was most fully present in Church! Mass was when I got to physically embrace Him (receive the Eucharist) and hear Him tell me He was perpetually giving Himself to me in love.
I learned that nuns spent all of their time with Jesus. “Who wouldn’t want to be a nun?” I thought. “Everyone should be nuns and priests so they can spend every second living for and with God.”
I entered middle school and my desire for “nunhood” grew as I knew Jesus more and more. He would hold my hand when my social anxiety was kicking in. He was present when other kids made fun of me. He was there to play with me and He would inspire my creativity. I’d dream about going to the eternal kingdom to spend time with Him and His angels in His heavenly palace. He challenged me to be kind to my sisters and classmates. He asked me to pray more because He loved talking to me too.
I was falling in love with Jesus. Slowly, He increasingly won my affection with His constant presence and His gift of self. The great romantic God that He is was wooing me, and I was unable to resist.
Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?
The Poor Clares
Nuns. Nuns. Nuns. During my middle school years, I definitely grew in my desire to be a nun. I had read a book titled, Break in at the Basilica, by Dianne Ahern. It was a fictional mystery about a nun who was a secret agent for the pope. In this particular book, St. Clare of Assisi (a woman from the 1200's) was introduced to me. St. Clare was a woman who gave up marriage, wealth, family, and power so that she could become a nun. She founded the religious order known as the Poor Clares. After reading about the Poor Clares in this book, I said to my mom, “I want to be a Poor Clare.”
“Ok,” My dear mom said, “how about you write to them and see if you can be pen pals?”
My eyes lit up. “Yes!”
So, mom went on the internet, looked up the Poor Clares, and found a lovely community in Cleveland, Ohio. I wrote to Mother Abbess telling her that I really liked the Poor Clares.
She wrote to me in return!
This was the start of a series of letters exchanged between myself and the community. Mother Abbess answered my questions, encouraged my desire to be a nun, and gently listened to my account of the Lord’s call. I was absolutely delighted every time I received a letter from them. A prayer card was always included and usually some sort of brochure or booklet that described their way of life.
Poor Clare nuns are beautiful. They go barefoot throughout the convent as a sign of their poverty and wear flowing black veils and simple brown habits. They wear a ring as a sign of their espousal to Jesus Christ and are cloistered, which means they only leave the convent for the occasional doctor appointment so they may instead, fully concentrate on prayer.
Remember how I mentioned that Jesus is present in the Eucharist during my last post? Well, the Poor Clares have a deep devotion to the Eucharist. They live in the same house as Jesus Himself! They spend hours adoring Him and praying for the world.
The more I read about these women while in middle school, about their radical, romantic way of living for and with Jesus, the more I wanted to be a Poor Clare.
Taylor Swift’s “Love Story”
My fantasies increased. St. Clare knew how to be a radical, great saint, and it was my goal to follow in her footsteps. She became a nun at eighteen like many other saints, so that meant I had to become a nun ASAP!
Here is the thing: Nuns are women who “marry” Jesus. Jesus and a nun dedicate their lives to each other through vows the way a man and a woman dedicate their lives to each other through marriage vows. Now, if I was to marry Jesus, I needed Him to…ask me.
I waited. And I waited. He didn’t ask me.
Ok. Jesus wasn’t asking. “Jesus, will you marry me?”
Laugh if you will, but I was completely serious. “I love You,” I said to Jesus, “You’re amazing! You’re my BFF and I want to spend all of my days with You. You love me--duh, Your Name is Jesus Christ—God Himself! Now, if we love each other like this, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t get married!”
This seemed to be a time that Jesus was silent when I talked to Him. Or…He was speaking and I didn’t like His answer of, “Jacqueline, Patience. Wait. We’ve been dating for a while now, but you’re still only twelve years old! I’m not going anywhere. I do wish to take you to an even deeper level of friendship, but you are not St. Clare. You are my Jacqueline. I will tell you when the time is right.”
Yeah, I admit that Jesus did say that, but I did not like His answer. So, I begged Him some more.
Now, I’m going to assume you’ve heard of the song, “Love Story” by Taylor Swift. If not, look it up. This song became my number one during my middle school years. The song is about Romeo and Juliet. Juliet’s dad tells Romeo to stay away from his daughter. Juliet asks Romeo to save her from her forbidding father and to run away with her. Eventually, Romeo sets things straight with the father and asks Juliet to marry him.
I imagined myself as Juliet and Jesus as Romeo. My forbidding father was who I found represented God the Father. I figured that God the Father said that it was not yet time for me to marry Jesus, His Son. Yet, I begged Jesus to take me away from all of the fading stuff like money and clothes and let me run away and marry Him, so that I may have heavenly wealth and spiritual jewels.
I awaited the day that Jesus would say, “Marry me, Jacqueline,” the way Romeo said, “Marry me, Juliet,” in the song.
I played the song over and over again--just dreaming—no proposal. This continued into my high school years.
Depression
With all of these fantasies, I have to give you a quick review of a real illness that invaded my life. This will be a brief mention of it, as I will go more in depth in future blog posts.
I was a freshman in high school when I was first diagnosed with depression. Why? I’ve asked that question a lot. I believe I was born with this illness in me, and that it was triggered by entering high school.
I was mad at Jesus. I wanted to be His bride—why couldn’t I be His bride now? I was overwhelmed by bullying, swearing, and peers "sexualizing" everything. I felt like I was the only one who believed or cared about God, even though that was far from the truth. I felt like I was in hell, so I asked Jesus to take me to the convent since nuns live their heaven on earth.
No religious order accepted fourteen-year-olds. I despaired.
It felt like Jesus had left me; rejected and abandoned me.
Yet, help was given to me by my sweet Jesus. God made sure to give me awesome parents who got me into therapy and I started taking medication. My dear therapist assured me, “Jesus is sitting right beside you, holding your hand.”
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was Jesus speaking through my therapist, “Jacqueline! I’m here! You can’t feel me, but I AM here! I AM speaking, even if you don’t recognize My voice! I AM before you, even if you don’t recognize My appearance!”
I transferred to a small private school. Things definitely got better. I started laughing again, made friends, and I felt comfortable. Jesus was in the chapel at school, so I could always go to Him with any of my joys and sorrows.
I had hope and I fell deeper in love with Jesus. My desire to be a nun was still there, and it also started to mature as I realized that I didn’t have to be a nun to be a saint. I knew I could get married and still be a saint, but I thought, "What woman wouldn't want the King of the Universe as her husband?"
When visiting the chapel at school, I would look at Jesus in the Eucharist. “I want You alone! I really like this order of Poor Clares. They live 100% for You. What do You think about me entering the convent after high school?”
Jesus smiled at me, as usual.
I smiled back, forcing myself to be patient. “Only when You tell, me, though! I know I've asked You countless times, but I promise, I won't enter the convent until You ask me!”
Chapter 4: Jacqueline, Will You Marry Me?
Proposal
I was love-sick my senior year in high school. I couldn’t get enough of Jesus and I even thought to myself, “Jesus is my date for the homecoming dance.” He was the only One I wanted.
So, I dressed up with some girlfriends, put on some heels and went to the dance. Now, I’ve always struggled at dances for many reasons. One is that I have social anxiety. Another is that I worried, like most people, about fitting in and being liked. I was one of the girls who stood on the sidelines when the slow dances came on. I also had no interest in flirting or dating (though I still considered myself to be dating Jesus). Also, as I was dancing and watching others dance, I was thinking about how I wanted so much more. More than makeup, clothes, popularity, food, and little thrills.
I smiled, though, and did my best to have fun since there is nothing wrong with dancing with friends and celebrating.
As I danced, Jesus took the opportunity to speak to me. I became very aware that Jesus was present in the chapel down the hall. See, I went to a private catholic school, so the Eucharist was always available in the building.
You could visit me. Jesus spoke to my heart. I’m right here. You can just stop in and say “hello.”
I grew annoyed and frustrated as Jesus kept telling me He was there. I had an extreme yearning to see Him, but I was at a dance! This was not a time for prayer. I needed to just socialize and have fun dancing, not sneak away to the chapel with Jesus.
Jacqueline. He kept calling me.
“No!” I said back to Him. “What if someone saw me going to the chapel? What would they think of me?”
I want to see you and you want to see Me. He seemed to say.
I relented. “Fine. Fine. I’m coming. Just for a moment.”
After darting away from the people, my bare feet hurried down the hall and I opened the door to the chapel.
Relief and awe met me as I saw Jesus (the Eucharist).
I let out a shaky breath. “Hi," I said, kneeling down and swiping my hair behind my ear. He was only a couple feet away from me, in the golden Tabernacle. The lights were barely on and the thump of music from down the hall vibrated the ground.
“I…” I started, clearly speechless. Looking at my hands, I began to tell Him a jumble of things but was interrupted.
A few notes from a familiar song met my ears.
My gaze darted up to Jesus as my mouth parted in surprise.
It was “Love Story” by Taylor Swift. Read my previous blog post, “Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?” if you want to know what this song meant to me.
I can’t explain what happened. I can’t put it into words because no words were actually spoken. It was a conversation—an understanding—that took place in my heart. We communicated with our eyes. He spoke directly to my soul. This will hardly suffice, but I’ll leave you with these words: “Jacqueline, will you marry Me?” Jesus asked.
“Yes!” I said, “yes”.
Taking Action
It was official. Jesus and I were engaged. I wrote to the Poor Clares again and I asked to visit them. After visiting them, I became more confident that was what God wanted me to do. He wanted to marry me, and He was asking me to begin the process of becoming a Poor Clare nun.
After some more encouragement from the Holy Spirit, I requested an application. After a few months, I was accepted and ready to enter the convent after I graduated from high school.
My entrance day was decided to be October 11th, 2014. I waited in earnest and my soul was practically flying in heaven as I dreamed and prepared for my entrance. I was going to marry Jesus! At last! I was going to be a nun!
I would be following in the steps of my favorite saint, St. Clare. I would leave home at seventeen and give up wealth, family, and all material things for Jesus.
I was going to miss my family terribly, as the Poor Clares are cloistered nuns, meaning they never leave the convent, except for the occasional doctor appointment. This is so they can fully concentrate on prayer. Still, I was willing to make the sacrifice. If leaving home meant entering my heavenly home at the convent, I was willing.
October 11th came at last. I was as ready as I could be. With a large smile and trembling hands, I stepped into the cloister.
Chapter 5: The Obsessions and Compulsions
Living the Life
I was living the life of a cloistered nun! It was my dream come true. I was living like my favorite saint, St. Clare, and was with a community of wonderful, happy women.
I got to see Jesus all the time. He was there—the Eucharist—and I was blessed to pray in the chapel at least five times a day (at least!). Most of the time, I prayed with the sisters, and sometimes I had private prayer. I was given instructions on basic Catholicism and the life of a Poor Clare. I found it fascinating and I was “wowed” by the sisters’ humility, praise of God, and how every little action was for Jesus. Pictures of Jesus were everywhere. The name of Jesus was repeated constantly and used with the utmost reverence. During meals, we would pray and listen to a sister read from a spiritual book or listen to a spiritual tape. Together, we had choir practice, enjoyed recreation, and decorated the convent for feast days. We made gifts for sisters on their anniversary of vows, prayed for the deceased sisters of the community, wrote to Poor Clare communities around the world, carved pumpkins for Halloween, and had picnics.
There I was, living the life, courting Jesus, talking to Him all the time, and yet…something felt “off.”
A trial quickly came upon me. This trial was going to hurt, but Jesus was going to give me all the graces I needed to get through it. I wouldn't see the benefit of it at first, but He knew that in time, I'd experience suffering that doesn't end in death, but with life!
Here is what He was saying to me (I'll take it from Scripture). I didn't understand or realize what He meant, but He spoke nonetheless:
Jacqueline, for a little while, you are to suffer through various trials. Your faith is more precious than gold. Gold is perishable and therefore, must be tested by fire. (See 1 Peter 6-8). A little while and you will no longer see Me, and again a little while later and you will see Me. (See John 16:16) As the Father sent Me into the world to suffer and die, so I send you into the world to suffer and die. I consecrated Myself for you, so that you also may be consecrated in truth. (See John 17: 18-19) What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later. (See John 13:7) You sow in tears, but will reap with cries of joy. (See Psalm 125:5)
The Trial
I thought that giving up family, clothes, money, electronics, and independence was a step toward sanctity, but I quickly came to the conclusion that it wasn’t nearly enough. Every action and thought I had, had become a sin.
Looking at my reflection in a window: it was a sin—how vain I was! Exaggerating a story in conversation: it was a sin—I was a liar! Being too slow when cleaning: it was a sin—I was lazy and idle! Distracted during Mass: it was a sin—I only cared for myself and not God. I didn’t have the joy of Jesus in me: it was a sin—I was a sour faced Christian!
Sin. Sin. Sin. It became my obsession. My expectations for myself grew more and more, making me feel absolutely terrible. Then, I felt terrible about feeling terrible, because a nun is always happy (Warning: Sarcasm).
My head told me that I couldn’t muster enough devotion for Jesus or His saints. I needed to have great devotion to every saint and pray equally to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I needed to pray more. I made myself do countless daily ritual prayers including praying for each person I knew and knew about with utmost strength and fervor. I never felt complete or finished. I was never satisfied and always felt compelled to do more. I needed to do more. So, I did more, and it still wasn’t enough.
My head also said that I had to deny myself as well because I was a horrible, horrible sinner. Penance! No salt on my food! Sit up straighter in the chapel! Straighter! No chap stick, no matter how dry my lips were!
It wasn’t enough! It wasn’t enough!
The hardest thing was that with all of these prayers and penances, I had to do them perfectly and do them with complete happiness. I don’t know about you, but doing all of that stuff every day on top of the regular “nun” expectations is pretty hard—almost impossible to accomplish. What is even more impossible is to do it with a large smile and to be overflowing with happiness.
I wasn’t overflowing with happiness—I was overwhelmed! As I became extremely unhappy, I blamed it on homesickness and not trying hard enough at the nun’s life. If I was holier and less of a sinner, I would be able to happily serve the Lord as a Poor Clare.
I started calling myself a worm and a maggot. I saw myself as deserving hell. I began to think I was no longer in love with Jesus, but in love with the devil.
Refusing to acknowledge that I was internally struggling, I didn’t tell my Novice Mistress or Mother Abbess. I continued thinking, “Jesus asked me to go to the convent with Him. I have to stay. Nothing is wrong. This is where I’m meant to be. Of course, this life is hard. I knew it would be. Jesus is helping me and I’m staying till He tells me to leave. I still want to be His bride! I want to take vows and marry Jesus!”
Do you see how confusing this was? On one end, my mind twisted so much to think that I was in love with the devil, while at the same time, I was still clinging to my desire to be Christ’s bride! I was torn and utterly confused. What was I to do?
Chapter 6: A Diagnosis
Thirty Days Devotion
During my last post, I wrote about my time at the convent. I was awed by the life of the Poor Clare nuns and the wonderful joy that they had. However, I was not sharing in that joy. Rather, I was torn and confused by my racing thoughts. My thoughts were obsessed with every little thing possibly being a sin and I was performing compulsory prayers and penances.
Even though I was unhappy, I still wanted to "marry" Jesus with all of my heart (nuns are called "brides of Christ" since they give up marriage to man to live completely for God).
“I’m going to pray a Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph,” I decided in February of 2015 as I knelt in the chapel of the Poor Clares. “By the end of it, I hope God will give me assurance that my vocation (my calling in life) is to be a Poor Clare!" I still had at least six years ahead of me before I'd become an actual nun, but I wanted peaceful assurance that the convent was where I was meant to be. All of the nuns talked about the peace they received from living the Poor Clare life. Since I wasn't feeling very peaceful, I thought I'd better bring this up to Jesus in prayer (and I could ask St. Joseph to pray as well).
Now, the prayer for the Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph is very long. One says it every day for thirty (hence the name) days. I did it for the thirty days leading up to the feast of St. Joseph on March 19th. For the next month, prayer was the opposite of peaceful. I was disgusted with myself for not praying with perfect attention and devotion.
At one point, I asked myself, “Am I depressed? Depressed like how I was in 9th grade? (See my blog post "Chapter 3: Jesus, Will You Marry Me?")” Remembering that depression is usually recognizable after a constantly “down” mood for two weeks or more, I thought, “Okay, I’ll see if this deep sadness persists for the next two weeks. If it does, then I really might be having a depressive episode. God, let that not be the case!"
A Diagnosis
It was the feast of St. Joseph. I had completed my Thirty Days Devotion and things were not going well. My thoughts were racing at an uncontrollable speed. I was terribly confused and extremely distressed. I cried a lot and was in a sort of shock as this thought entered my mind: God may not want me to become a nun.
I denied it! It couldn’t be. Jesus asked me to go to the convent. I was perplexed that He may wish for me to leave.
By this point, I knew I'd been feeling depressed for two weeks; a lot more than two weeks if I was being honest with myself. I had to tell my Novice Mistress. I told her and it surprised her because I seemed to hide it well. I also told her that going to prayer in the chapel was almost unbearable, I was so ashamed of my sinfulness. She called for Mother Abbess, who called for a psychiatrist immediately.
Upon speaking to the psychiatrist, he quickly diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder. Major Depression is a mental illness that can have numerous causes (examples: a chemical imbalance in the brain, biological factors, social factors, etc.). It is recognized by a constantly depressed mood, low self-esteem, despair, anxiety, and inability to function.
I asked Mother Abbess if she was willing to let me stay, even with the diagnosis. She agreed and made sure I started some medication. My depression only increased and my anxiety skyrocketed. My inwards felt like total chaos. My confusion was ringing like an alarm. I began to wonder if I could keep living this prayerful life with such dark thoughts and such a depressed mood.
“Jacqueline,” Mother Abbess said to me after I told her more about my internal battle and that the medications were not working, “Perhaps this means that this isn’t the right fit, or at least, it isn’t the right time.”
I cried, agreeing with her.
Remember me hoping that at the end of my Thirty Days Devotion to St. Joseph, God would reassure me that this was where I was meant to be? Well, I got the opposite answer. My diagnosis of depression, the advice of my Novice Mistress and Mother Abbess, the advice of my psychiatrist, and my growing inability to pray, led me to finally surrender to the fact that this was not a healthy fit.
It was April of 2015, and my parents were called. They drove the next day to come pick me up from the convent. I looked at Jesus one more time in the chapel of the Poor Clares. I left Him with a broken heart and complete bewilderment. I had no idea why He would ask me to go to the convent just to end up leaving it.
Chapter 7: Another Diagnosis
My parents wrapped me in their loving arms! My family welcomed me home from the convent in April of 2015, willing to help me with whatever I needed. I got a job at a greenhouse within my first week back, and I was just going to give myself as much time as I needed to sort out "my life".
It felt really challenging to sort out my life without some help from Jesus. I asked Him for help, and I'll be honest, I thought Jesus had stopped speaking to me, but He was always speaking through the encouragement, concern, and help of my family and friends.
So, I was working full time. And my depression did not go away. It got a whole lot worse!
I was very hurt and confused about why I had depression and why I left the convent. I thought God had rejected me. I despaired.
Work actually stopped suddenly for me because I had to go through some intensive depression treatment. Thank the Good Lord that I received another diagnosis! It's called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder(OCD). This diagnosis was a blessing from God! When I realized that I had OCD, I was able to get the proper treatment. Some Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and medication can help with depression, but I needed treatment for my OCD.
Quick OCD lesson: OCD attacks the things that a person holds as important. Think if you have OCD and health is really important to you. Your OCD may manifest itself through obsessions related to cleanliness (and thus cause you to perform a compulsion like hand-washing). For me, my faith is super important to me. That is why my OCD manifests itself through obsessions related to sin and morality (and thus causes me to perform compulsions such as repeating prayers or performing penances). This obsession with sin and morality is a sub-type of OCD known as scrupulosity.
Now, anyone can have a scruple. Say you pray and the thought occurs to you that you were not paying enough attention while saying the prayer. The scruple is worrying that you may have sinned by not paying enough attention. Most people will just shrug this scruple off their shoulder. Oh well. They may think. No one can pray perfectly. Or. I'll try harder next time. God understands that I can't always be 100% attentive.
This is not so for a person with scrupulosity!
Scrupulosity causes a person to obsess and worry that they are a terrible sinner! They will sweat and wonder if they are going to hell. They may think that if they really loved God and cared about others, they would be able to pray with complete attention.
These scruples become diagnosed as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder when the scruples lead to compulsory behavior. For example, I will repeat a prayer until I think I've said it with 100% attention, I'll scold and punish myself for my "sinfulness", I'll repeat phrases to God about what a terrible sinner I am and how desperate I am for His mercy, and/or I'll go to confession and even possibly re-confess my "sin" during later confessions. The anxiety caused from these obsessions never fully goes away after performing the compulsions. Compulsions lesson the anxiety slightly but then return with even worse anxiety and an even greater need to do more compulsions.
Yikes! No wonder why I was depressed! Every action, every thought, and every prayer were sins and I would repeatedly try to make up for it, sin again, and try to make up for it. It goes in this never ending cycle, that only gets worse if not treated.
My parents were ready to do anything to get this treated. They wanted to see their daughter Jacqueline talking again! Not the voice of OCD!
Treatment did include hospitalization, and I'll probably get into that with later blog posts. For now, know that I started getting better. I began what is known as Exposure and Response Prevention. It is a therapy that treats OCD. With a therapist, I do exposures, which is exposing myself to my worst fears (for example: saying a prayer while distracted) and then I don't respond to it with compulsions (for example: repeating the prayer, scolding myself, etc.). Instead, I just sit with the anxiety of being a "distracted pray-er" until my level of anxiety goes down.
Now, it also took finding the right medication, regular cognitive behavioral therapy, support from my loved ones, group therapy, companionship with others who suffer from OCD, finding coping skills, and pet therapy to get me feeling good again. I firmly believe that this was all Jesus in action, taking care of His beloved!
As for all of those articles I posted about me "marrying" Jesus (nuns are called "brides of Christ" because they give up marriage to a man to be with God)? Did Jesus actually not ask me to marry Him since I didn't end up becoming a nun? Did Jesus call off the "wedding" and tell me to go to college first?
I'm Married to Jesus, and I am a Single, Catholic, College Student
College Bound
My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder didn't go away, but it certainly became more manageable. I still struggle with it presently, but I've got tons of tools to help me overcome it.
(Oh, by the way, if you've been reading this since the prologue, this is kind of like the epilogue but not really since I'm only twenty and I've got a way to go till I die (God willing)...anyway just know that this is the last chapter of my "book" or "series" or whatever you want to call it. I decided not to bother titling it by a chapter or "Epilogue")
It took me a couple years, but I started feeling happy again and prayer became easier. Even with me feeling better, I was still confused about why I entered the convent and left. Despite this confusion, I was ready to take a new step--to go to a different form of life: College life!
I never thought I'd end up at Central Michigan University (CMU). My twin sister, a student at CMU, had invited me to a church retreat at CMU in 2015. After this retreat, visiting my sister at her college several times, and talking it over with Jesus and my parents, I decided to attend CMU in the fall of 2016.
Happiness!
Guys, I'm so happy I'm at college and at CMU. I love the people and I love the campus and I love the classes. There is a Catholic church right smack in the middle of the campus, so Jesus is always present! I'm now in my sophomore year and I'm pretty set on studying English and Religion. I'll get more in depth on different college experiences in later posts, but before I wrap up this "book", I want to share with you an amazing discovery that has brought me indescribable joy.
Mind = Blown
So, last year (my freshman year), there was a night that I listened to the song "Love Story" by Taylor Swift (See Chapters 3 and 4 for more information on how that song played in my personal journey ). This song usually made me really sad and full of longing. This was the song that Jesus played to "propose" to me. It was how I knew I was to enter the convent and be His bride (nuns are called "brides of Christ" since they give up marriage to a man to devote themselves to God). Now as I listened to the song, I was confused that upon entering the convent, I was diagnosed with all of that mental illness stuff. I wondered, If I was supposed to "marry" Jesus, then why wasn't I still at the convent, preparing to become a nun? Was I just imagining that God wanted me to be totally His? Did He never propose in the first place? Did He reject me as His bride (See previous chapters on the blog for more information on past events)?
As I listened to "Love Story" this particular night at college, it didn't fill me with my usual hurt and confusion and longing. Instead, almost no feelings aroused at all when listening to the song. The lyrics seemed so superficial. It was about Juliet just waiting her days away for Romeo to marry her. That's what I had been doing: waiting and waiting for Jesus to sweep me in His arms and for us to live happily ever after. I thought that becoming a nun was how this would happen.
Yet, as I listened to "Love Story" that night, I wondered why this song no longer touched me. I realized that this was because God’s love is so much more than the "love story" I had always envisioned.
God’s love story includes a cross. A cross in which Jesus poured out His most precious blood upon us in the ultimate act of love. And Jesus was asking me to partake in that. It didn’t include pretty dresses and jewels. It included sacrifice, pain, and trial. It didn’t include me waiting and waiting for my prince to come. It included action and participation on my part.
Oh, I am in love! It’s not the type of love I originally thought. Not the love of the movies and the fairy tales. It’s more. So much more! I get to partake in the exchange of love between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Actively! Right now.
Every time I receive Holy Communion, the Lord touches my lips and enters into my very being. This Lord Who loves me and pours Himself—naked and bare and vulnerable—He pours Himself out to me. I don’t need to wait for God to marry me. I don’t need to wait for Mr. Right to walk into my life. I don’t even need to wait for heaven.
I get to have it all now. It’s all there in the Eucharist. The Trinitarian God offering Himself to me, and I am invited to return that love—to partake fully in it.
Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matthew 10:7, Mark 1:15, Luke 10:9). He didn’t say, “The kingdom of heaven is at the end of the world. The kingdom of heaven is when you die.” “The kingdom of heaven is when you get married.” “The kingdom of heaven is when you take religious vows or become ordained a priest.”
No. People, the kingdom of heaven is here and now! HERE AND NOW! My Prince is already here. Constantly, I come to Him, broken. Constantly He rescues me. He gives Himself totally to me, and I get to give myself totally in return. This is the marriage covenant! The dream—the vision—the love story!
My destination of heaven begins now. My union with God is now. Sorry--I can't say it enough! Now. Now. Now.
St. Therese of Lisieux hits the nail when she says, “my vocation is love.” Priest, nun, married, single…yeah, that’s a discernment process and a journey, but we have an underlying vocation. The other vocations are just expressions of the deeper vocation. A vocation each of us is called to: Love! And we don’t need to wait for God to reveal it to us. We don’t need to discern if we’re called to love. We know we are. Jesus told us so. We’re called to the greatest love, for “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) That’s what Jesus did for us, and that’s what we’re called to do daily.
Those years ago, when I was in high school, and Jesus asked me to marry Him--I thought that meant I had to be a nun. Now, I see that every person is called to marry Jesus. I don't need to be a nun to be totally God's. I don't need to be a nun to be a saint. No more saying, "I will marry Jesus." I am married to Jesus! People, I'm married to Jesus, and I am a single, Catholic, college student!
Hmmm....I think I'm in heaven..oh wait--that's because I am!!!!