Two and a half years ago, in September of 2012, I began a career in Information Technology (IT), working for a financial services company in Texas, where my only existing relationships were with my girlfriend and her family. I had just spent the previous year in Ireland, serving the Catholic Church through music and youth ministry. Although living and working in Ireland was a challenge, there were many moments of clarity where I was able to get out of my own way and see how God can use my gifts.
The transition to living and working in America was much tougher. By the time January 2013 rolled around, I was a few months in to working a desk job for a massive company, struggling with finding purpose in work, still parish-hopping for a spiritual home around my new and very large hometown, and lacking community outside of my girlfriend and her family. Since I could see no other way to get things in order, I self-resolved to tough it out and take life one day at a time.
At the advice of a trusted mentor, I picked a random date nine months away to re-evaluate my vocation and career choice (September 19th, 2013), mentally hunkered down, and began using exercise as a way to fill my time and build community. Being physically active has always been a touch point for me in giving glory to God. I recognize that my ability to run is both a gift and a prayer, and helps me to give back to God that which He has given me. It also has allowed me the opportunity to grow in community with others, whether in high school, during my college years, or while living in Ireland. I figured that this would truly help me become centered and comfortable in my new city, new job, and new community.
At the advice of a trusted mentor, I picked a random date nine months away to re-evaluate my vocation and career choice (September 19th, 2013), mentally hunkered down, and began using exercise as a way to fill my time and build community. Being physically active has always been a touch point for me in giving glory to God. I recognize that my ability to run is both a gift and a prayer, and helps me to give back to God that which He has given me. It also has allowed me the opportunity to grow in community with others, whether in high school, during my college years, or while living in Ireland. I figured that this would truly help me become centered and comfortable in my new city, new job, and new community.
When the Boston Marathon bombings happened in April 2013, I immediately called my dad and told him, "I want to run Boston next year." For the first time in my running career I laid out a comprehensive training plan and followed it through, watching the miles and accomplished workouts accumulating in my planner. I remember being excited at the start of my qualifying marathon: ready to face the early morning sunrise in late August of 2013, and put my training to the test. And then my body fell apart.
Not literally, of course. What really happened was that midway through the race my hip "locked up" on me and refused to move normally. I hobbled the last 10 miles (since quitting was not an option), and shuffled across the finish line 19 minutes shy of a Boston qualifying time. I flew home to a whirlwind of doctor appointments, X-Rays, MRI's, FBI’s, apple pies, etc. At the end of that bit of ‘fun’, I was diagnosed with a degenerate hip that needed repair, early onset osteoarthritis, and a recommendation that I stop running and playing sports, unless I wanted to replace my hip before I was 40 (one can imagine hip replacement not being a preferable option, especially at 24).
Over the course of the next three months, with the re-evaluation date to assess and re-map my vocational journey quickly pushed aside and forgotten, things really fell apart. My work life started to become less manageable; my girlfriend and I broke up; and I underwent surgery that would have me on crutches - unable to put any weight on my leg for two months, or even drive myself anywhere.
On the fourth day after leaving the hospital, I woke up alone in my second floor apartment (hindsight: great opportunity to learn to navigate stairs with crutches) with some food in my freezer (courtesy of my parents, who came out from Arizona for the surgery), and the knowledge that I would go weeks with very limited human contact, since I did not possess the ability to leave my apartment by myself. Due to the circumstances of my life, I had no real support community established, and therefore no one to visit or help me.
This isn’t to say that things were completely desolate. Looking back I can clearly see the blessings and grace that were readily available to me, if I had only pushed aside my pride, anger, and hurt to accept them graciously. An acquaintance at work helped me with my laundry. A friend at my recently-joined parish found a wonderful lady who drove me to and from rehab sessions and follow-up appointments. Skyping with friends and receiving care packages brought rare smiles to my day.
In the midst of battling old demons, trying to make it through the daily grind, and living in a running-less depression from which I could not escape by myself, I discovered a Master's degree program for education at the University of Portland. I had always talked about one day ending up a Catholic school teacher, since I wholeheartedly love and support Catholic education. A question came to mind: given all that had happened, and since I literally had nothing left to lose, why not make the jump? The question led to conversations with friends who were teachers, which in turn led me to apply to the graduate program. A fairy-tale ending in the works, perhaps?
Heck no! My application was denied. Yet, I persevered. I applied to several Catholic schools in San Antonio, with varying degrees of interest from the principals. After a month and a half of this, I gave up. God was clearly telling me that my calling was to be the best person I could be in my current circumstances. I could do that, as I had learned through this whole process (exactly how well I could be that best person will be a work-in-progress for the rest of my life).
Of course, God wasn’t quite done. Naturally, I received a call from the superintendent of Catholic Schools for the Archdiocese of San Antonio asking me to come in and interview for an IT resource position. I was offered the position, which provides technical support for ALL schools in the Archdiocese. After spending a few weeks in thoughtful prayer and discerning, I accepted.
While living in Ireland 3 years ago, I made a pilgrimage to Santiago, Spain. A group of dear friends (including the editor of this blog) and I followed El Camino de Santiago. We walked 70 miles in 4 days of prayer, soreness, pain, sunshine, rain, frustration, and joy upon reaching our destination. There were days when we could clearly follow the painted yellow arrows to Santiago, and days when the misty mornings were so dense with fog that we could not be sure of the way. There were times when we were so much surer of our path 60 miles from Santiago than when we had the city skyline in our sights.
Not literally, of course. What really happened was that midway through the race my hip "locked up" on me and refused to move normally. I hobbled the last 10 miles (since quitting was not an option), and shuffled across the finish line 19 minutes shy of a Boston qualifying time. I flew home to a whirlwind of doctor appointments, X-Rays, MRI's, FBI’s, apple pies, etc. At the end of that bit of ‘fun’, I was diagnosed with a degenerate hip that needed repair, early onset osteoarthritis, and a recommendation that I stop running and playing sports, unless I wanted to replace my hip before I was 40 (one can imagine hip replacement not being a preferable option, especially at 24).
Over the course of the next three months, with the re-evaluation date to assess and re-map my vocational journey quickly pushed aside and forgotten, things really fell apart. My work life started to become less manageable; my girlfriend and I broke up; and I underwent surgery that would have me on crutches - unable to put any weight on my leg for two months, or even drive myself anywhere.
On the fourth day after leaving the hospital, I woke up alone in my second floor apartment (hindsight: great opportunity to learn to navigate stairs with crutches) with some food in my freezer (courtesy of my parents, who came out from Arizona for the surgery), and the knowledge that I would go weeks with very limited human contact, since I did not possess the ability to leave my apartment by myself. Due to the circumstances of my life, I had no real support community established, and therefore no one to visit or help me.
This isn’t to say that things were completely desolate. Looking back I can clearly see the blessings and grace that were readily available to me, if I had only pushed aside my pride, anger, and hurt to accept them graciously. An acquaintance at work helped me with my laundry. A friend at my recently-joined parish found a wonderful lady who drove me to and from rehab sessions and follow-up appointments. Skyping with friends and receiving care packages brought rare smiles to my day.
In the midst of battling old demons, trying to make it through the daily grind, and living in a running-less depression from which I could not escape by myself, I discovered a Master's degree program for education at the University of Portland. I had always talked about one day ending up a Catholic school teacher, since I wholeheartedly love and support Catholic education. A question came to mind: given all that had happened, and since I literally had nothing left to lose, why not make the jump? The question led to conversations with friends who were teachers, which in turn led me to apply to the graduate program. A fairy-tale ending in the works, perhaps?
Heck no! My application was denied. Yet, I persevered. I applied to several Catholic schools in San Antonio, with varying degrees of interest from the principals. After a month and a half of this, I gave up. God was clearly telling me that my calling was to be the best person I could be in my current circumstances. I could do that, as I had learned through this whole process (exactly how well I could be that best person will be a work-in-progress for the rest of my life).
Of course, God wasn’t quite done. Naturally, I received a call from the superintendent of Catholic Schools for the Archdiocese of San Antonio asking me to come in and interview for an IT resource position. I was offered the position, which provides technical support for ALL schools in the Archdiocese. After spending a few weeks in thoughtful prayer and discerning, I accepted.
While living in Ireland 3 years ago, I made a pilgrimage to Santiago, Spain. A group of dear friends (including the editor of this blog) and I followed El Camino de Santiago. We walked 70 miles in 4 days of prayer, soreness, pain, sunshine, rain, frustration, and joy upon reaching our destination. There were days when we could clearly follow the painted yellow arrows to Santiago, and days when the misty mornings were so dense with fog that we could not be sure of the way. There were times when we were so much surer of our path 60 miles from Santiago than when we had the city skyline in our sights.
We celebrated Mass in Santiago, a pilgrim Church, with walking sticks and hiking boots jammed into pews and resting against the walls of a beautiful Cathedral, only to be told that our pilgrimage was not over. Our Camino to Santiago was only part of a lifelong Camino toward heaven, taken a single step at a time.
That is the hope that I live in today. My hip still isn’t right after the surgery, and I acutely feel the aches and pains that come with ordinary motions of standing, sitting, and walking. I miss running in ways that can’t be expressed with words. I try my best to be God’s love through taking care of the technological needs of Catholic Schools, and by preparing for the Sacrament of Marriage this May with my fiancée. I often fail. In the mi(d)st of all this, much as He was in the mists of Northern Spain, God joins me on the path of life, regardless of how enthusiastically I say “Yes” to taking that next single step. Bum hip and all.
God Bless,
Kurt
That is the hope that I live in today. My hip still isn’t right after the surgery, and I acutely feel the aches and pains that come with ordinary motions of standing, sitting, and walking. I miss running in ways that can’t be expressed with words. I try my best to be God’s love through taking care of the technological needs of Catholic Schools, and by preparing for the Sacrament of Marriage this May with my fiancée. I often fail. In the mi(d)st of all this, much as He was in the mists of Northern Spain, God joins me on the path of life, regardless of how enthusiastically I say “Yes” to taking that next single step. Bum hip and all.
God Bless,
Kurt
Kurt graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 2011 as an academic mutt, with a Bachelor of Science in Science-Computing and a minor in Theology. After spending a year in Ireland with the House of Brigid serving the Catholic Church with the editor of this blog, he moved to San Antonio to perfect his Texas drawl. Kurt currently serves as the Information Technology Specialist for the Department of Catholic Schools in the Archdiocese of San Antonio, advising and supporting schools in their implementation of technology, which is really just a fancy way of saying that he keeps the Internets working. In his spare time, Kurt enjoys preparing for an upcoming wedding in May to his beautiful fiancee, playing guitar, forgoing the use of chairs so as to sit on the floor, and cooking edible things. Kurt can be contacted at kurt.nowak@alumni.nd.edu.
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