Introductions and the Rest of the Story

I am Lisa Noonan; for the other part of my life, see http://www.livejournal.com/~bluepooey/ - that's the outside part of my life.

This blog is to cover the internal and spiritual.

Wandering through cyberspace, I have found several Franciscan spirituality websites, and a couple of blogs--the most prominent being "A Secular Franciscan Life," but I believe Randy is already professed. It's hard for me to tell.

I have yet to find one that details anyone going into the stages of profession. If you find any, let me know. Must band together...
~~~~

Before I begin, let me assert that I am a cradle Catholic. I never really left. I remember CCD (remember that, some of you?) as a bunch of coloring-books and kumbaya bull-caca--no disrespect to Sisters Mary Valeria and Virginia Marie (both B.V.M), nor to the catechists whose names I don't remember. Anyway, I had a tearful first confession, an unremarkable First Communion, and then after that, my religious education eventually faded away because of family stuff.

I never really went *away* from the Church--I attended Mass sporadically, usually with my mother. When my sister was dying I would to our parish and just kneel and pray, especially when we learned it was terminal. I had spoken to Sister Janice Guenther, who had been there for my sister, and had thought about "returning" to the Church then, getting Confirmed, but it never really gelled at that time. Then I was back and forth to California for the next several years, and that pull faded.

Fast forward:

My current leg of spiritual journey began back around the summer of 1996. It was a hellacious year for me, especially professionally. I was, at that time, in the fire service, and the political atmosphere was becoming untenable for me. I was at a juncture where everything around me had spiritual poverty: lies, cheats, backstabbing: when a certain chief officer lied to my face, it was the beginning of the end. That was my impetus for my return, not only to Arizona but to the Holy Mother Church. I just didn't quite realize it.

My last two years in the fire service were a living hell. I spent a lot of time at the parish of Sts Peter and Paul in the foothills of Rancho Cucamonga; the pastor there was a gregarious man, humorous and loved. I never got to know him, but I did enjoy him, and he and the parish at large was a balm to my battered pride and low spirits.

It was there that I promised God that when I returned--not if, when--I would come back to His Church all the way. I had no timeframe in mind, just... I just promised Him from the bottom of my heart.

I hadn't planned on leaving--it just happened. At the end of 1997 I didn't say 'hey guys, I'm leaving.' No. I just went home to my parents' house for the winter. I didn't know what I was doing. I just needed time away from the cesspit of iniquity. When I got a job with decent pay and OK benefits, I just stayed home. Finally, around April of 1998, the office called and I told them I wasn't coming back. Interestingly enough, there was no protest, nothing.

I got the message.

At about this time, I started attending Mass sporadically at Our Lady of Mount Carmel, the parish that I grew up in. The first thing I noticed was that they had gotten rid of that ghastly huge plastic crucifix that had hung from the ceiling from when Fr McCready put it there when the parish was built. Sorry, no disrespect to the dead intended, but that thing was horrific. Even as a kid I never liked it.

And I never warmed to the parish as an adult. Don't know why. It's not really a very pretty parish, but I'd seen worse: I think of the orange carpet and pew cushions at Sts Peter and Paul, and the ugly blue carpet at OLMC was beatific.

At about this same time, I met the love of my life; the whole story is for another, reflective, post. It's important to this narrative because what were the chances that I would meet a guy who had wanted to convert for years? He--TJ--was the catalyst for where I am today.

So we went to Old Parish (we recently switched to New Parish), and we went through RCIA together. We were also married at Old Parish by a lovely old priest who has since retired. It was also at this parish--henceforth known as OP--that I met "Tio Pedro", who would become my Cursillo sponsor. Also I met several people from the SFO here--so many lovely people.

[I'll let you head back to the LJ blog to pick up some of the politicky crap here that necessitated our move to New Parish (henceforth known as NP)].

So, once married, I threw myself into serving at Mass, participating at the RCIA team meetings, and singing in the choir. With OP being small, it was a matter of time before the cliques and crap caught up with me, especially as involved as I was. My fault, too: I wasn't paying attention and it caught up with me.

Yet, I found a closer relationship with God despite it all.

And since OP is a Franciscan parish, a parish that had drawn me since I was about 11, I felt that tug I had felt since my mother had brought me there. It also gave me an excellent foundation for the path I'm on today.

~~

New Parish has a brand new "emerging community," the step before becoming a Fraternity (see: http://www.nafra-sfo.org/); it is named in honor of St Clare.

There are no coincidences.

I had, on several occasions, planned on talking to B, the coordinator of the St Francis Fraternity here. Always, for one reason or another, it never happened. Then, by a stroke of fate, in the NP bulletin, there it was: if one was interested, the St Clare Emerging Community was opening its arms for Inquirers.

Oh, yeah. I was SO there.

Stay tuned.