Seminarians on the Watchtower

This past weekend, I spent time with some seminarians from Louisiana. One of them was a very good friend of mine who only entered the seminary this fall. Naturally I was very excited about seeing my friend and meeting the others, and the more my excitement showed in my actions, the more jokes were cracked about stealing men away from seminary. While I laughed along with the others at the time, their comments forced me to think about my motives and actions while they were here.

I looked everywhere for the self-help book entitled “What to do when your best friend goes to seminary and then brings three to your house for the weekend”? You can take my word for it; it doesn’t exist.

I feel that, at my age, single men and women alike are always subconsciously (and sometimes consciously) searching for a spouse. Most of us know that we are called to marriage, and there is a sort of ‘watchman on the tower’ aspect to our daily lives, where we sit in anticipation of his or her coming on the horizon. Every time we meet someone, we squint our eyes and peer into the distance of our future relationship, trying gauge whether or not he or she is the one we have been waiting for. We look for those certain qualities we admire; whether or not he is religious, whether or not she works hard, whether or not he will be committed.

For Catholic girls, seminarians are easy to spot coming over that hill in the distance. Once we know what they are, we attach a whole list of good qualities to them without even having to look too hard. I know that no seminarian is perfect, and not all of them are even as holy as we might think, but simply making the sacrifice to go there to discern giving one’s whole life to God is enough to merit esteem. After all, God would call some of the best men to serve his Church.

In most cases, it is easy for women to simply recognize a seminarian, sigh briefly over the fact that God snagged another good one, and return their eyes to that horizon. The only problem was that this weekend, they were not on the horizon, there were in my apartment. As I said before, I tried to watch my words and actions, and I hope I responded to their presence appropriately. It is also possible that I am blowing this out of proportion. Maybe they are secure enough already in their calling that meeting and spending time with girls their age is not a problem. However, I would guess that this early in their lives at seminary, they may climb that watchtower too every now and then.

A Cross to Bear

Yesterday, I attended a pro-life conference in Macon, Georgia where Students for Life of America staff member Kortney equipped 40 student leaders to maintain effective pro-life clubs on their respective college campuses. Kortney and her husband of six months, Ben, were 5 months pregnant with their first child, a daughter that they had named Sophey. In everything she said, I could see Kortney’s renewed fervor for the pro-life cause because of the child within her. It is enough for most of us to know biologically that a fetus is a human being, but Kortney now knew it in a certain way that was real and tangible. She was joyful in the knowledge that her daughter was alive inside of her, dependent upon her. Every story she told was given new perspective in light of the fact that she knew and loved Sophey. The pro-life movement had changed for her I think. I saw tremendous hope in her life.

Today, I received the news that Kortney and Sophey died in a car accident on the way back to D.C. from the conference late last night.

I know from experience that someone does not have to be close to you for their death to affect you in a significant way. In high school, the family of one of my best friends died in a plane crash. Though I did not know them, witnessing my friend’s complete and continual devastation was enough for me to question many things I thought I knew about life, death, and grief. I did not know Korntey well, though I have been friends with her on Facebook for about a month now and had been exchanging emails with her during the weeks prior to the conference. I spoke with her during a few of the breakout sessions at the conference and got to listen to her give many talks.

It is a curious feeling knowing that you interacted intimately in the last 24 hours with someone who is now dead. I got the call right before going out for a run. I still decided to go out, but I was terribly distracted, watching every car that passed me with a wary eye, knowing that it might be on its way to claim a life. Back at my apartment, I prayed a rosary for the souls of Kortney and Sophey and also for those injured in the car with them. More than anything else, I prayed for her husband Ben.

In my worst nightmares, I have not been in Kortney’s place, but Ben’s. My own death does not loom menacing on the horizon as it does for some others. What gnaws at my mind and heart late at night are the deaths of my family and friends. I am scared of being the survivor. Many of my friends were on road trips this weekend, so immediately after my rosary, I texted them. Some have responded and some have not, and though I know that they are likely all right, the fear remains sharp today under these circumstances.

After I had run, prayed, and texted, I cried. I cried more than I have in a long time, all the while praying that somehow my parents, brother, sister, and friends would remain safe. I thought of Ben, and thinking of his sorrow threatened to overwhelm me. Suddenly I found myself praying for my future husband, someone I do not think I have met yet, someone I am not even sure exists. I begged God that he was safe and that I would get to meet him one day. Ben and Kortney had 6 beautiful months together before God’s will separated them. I know that this is Ben’s cross to bear and that God will bring greater goods out of his faithful carrying of it in the future. But then a horrifying thought struck me. What if my future husband is already dead? What if he died in a car accident just like Kortney? What if he was aborted along with the million other children aborted in 1990? What if that is my cross to bear? To have been made for marriage, but live without knowing him.

I know that whatever happens to me and to my future husband will be God’s will, but the prospect of losing him frightens me still. It may be strange, but I love him now, wherever he may be, and I pray that God keeps him safe.