the72: Maura Sullivan - All I Am and May Yet Become

When Dan asked me to write this post for the72, my initial reaction was a mixture of flattered and worried. Flattered to be included among posts like the one Sarah wrote a few weeks ago, and the one Nick wrote to start off this series. But also worried to be held up in comparison to the other writers on the72; worried that whatever I would contribute would pale in comparison to their amazing work within the Church.

My first job out of college was as the communications director at a Catholic high school—this question would have been easier to answer then. My ministry was to advance the mission of the school and do my part to provide the best experience possible for the students.

But now I work as a writer at a university, one with no religious affiliation. As a student at Catholic schools for 16 years who then went on to work at a Catholic school, it certainly has been a change. And a change that sometimes made me wonder what my ministry is, despite how much I enjoyed my work and the writing I get to do. Hence my apprehension at writing this post.

I am a student of writing. I have a college degree in journalism, dabble in blogging, and have worked as an intern, staffer, and freelancer at newspapers, magazines, and educational institutions. This has not been the first time that I have been nervous or uncertain about writing a piece, and it is usually pushing through and confronting these fears that makes me grow. So here goes.

One of my favorite prayers is the Prayer to St. Joseph. I first learned it from Sister Sara, the librarian at my elementary school and a Sister of St. Joseph, and it has stayed with me ever since.

Hours quickly become days, and days to months.

Each new month stretches to one year after another.

When I look at my life, St. Joseph, I ask:

What have I accomplished?

Whom have I helped?

Where am I going?

Can I serve our Lord in ways I have not even thought of?

Guide and protect me, Lord,

give me strength of purpose and vision.
Bless me for all I am, and may yet become.

Amen.

This prayer became particularly meaningful to me as I embarked on the uncertainties and challenges of life in the “real world” after college. The line that speaks to me most is this: Can I serve our Lord in ways I have not even thought of?

My calling is not in direct service or a religious vocation. These might be some things that immediately come to mind when you think of a vocation or a calling. As beautiful and noble as each of these callings is, they are not mine. And though it took some time, I realized that it does not make my calling any less meaningful.

I mentioned above that writing—even when I am nervous or uncertain or any other gamut of emotions—often helps me grow and process things. I’m doing that right here in this post. And I feel that it is my calling to write, to communicate, to string words together in a way that is meaningful to people.

When I graduated from college and was searching for meaning in the changes and upheaval in my life, I started a blog. I couldn’t not write about it, and in putting pen to paper—or rather, hands to keyboard—I found support in readers who were my friends and others who were random commenters. (And I hope readers felt that support, too.)

Each day at work and every time I write a freelance article, I share stories about people making a difference in their communities or challenging themselves through education.

And I also just started a new blog on a different topic: figure skating, one of my lifelong hobbies. It’s something I love to talk about, so I figured, why not try to widen the conversation and bring it online?

Through writing, I strive to create community and solidarity. This idea of finding solidarity—of knowing you are not alone in your experiences or that others share your interests and passions—is something I have found through my own reading, both online and off. It is something I hope to put back into the world with my words.

This—and other instances you all can probably think of from your own lives—might not be what you typically think of when you hear the word vocation. But my favorite closing blessing at Mass is when the priest or deacon says, “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.”

Taking each opportunity, no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential, to bring light into the lives of others does just what that closing blessing charges us each to do. It might be in a way you didn’t expect or think of, but that doesn’t mean it won’t make a difference.

When I write, I feel like I am using my gift in a way that builds community, both large and small. On my skating blog, the stats page tells me that I have readers from as far away as Japan, the UK, and Hungary.  Readers from across the globe are connecting through a common passion for the sport. My most recent freelance article is about a local group that traces their genealogy back to the Pilgrims on the Mayflower. A much smaller niche, but connections that are no less important to the members. I could say the same for any number of pieces that I have written, from news stories to personal essays like this one.

It has taken me some time to realize the importance of evoking this solidarity. And as you might guess from the introduction to this post, it is something that I am constantly working on. But every time I hear that closing blessing at mass or say the Prayer to St. Joseph, I am reminded. And inspired to keep trying.

Maura Sullivan is a web editor at Suffolk University in Boston and a freelance writer who has been published in Notre Dame Magazine and South Shore Living Magazine. She also blogs about her love of figure skating at twizzletalk.wordpress.com.  She graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 2011 with a degree in American Studies and Journalism and currently lives in her hometown of Weymouth, just outside of Boston. You can say hello at maura.sullivan2@gmail.com!