Daily Writing Challenge 2026

M7: The Calling Chapter continued (1000 words)

She said in her frank manner, “Jason, I love you, but personally I don’t believe you have the temperament it takes to take the final vows.”

As I began to interrupt her with protestations, she held her hand up.

“Wait now, let me finish. I know you’re smart, dedicated and very studious. You’ll do the work. But Jase, you know you’re vain, dear. If you become a priest, how will you feel about being forced to wear the same style and color suit all the time?”

I was appalled. I opened my mouth to speak, thought better of it, then closed it again. Part of me resented her description. To imagine that such a ridiculous reason would prevent me from giving my life to God. However, there was another part of me that knew what she said about my vanity was accurate.

“My wardrobe will hold me back? Mom, it’s like you didn’t even hear me! I had a vision! God spoke to me. I don’t know what he has in store for me, but I think the least of my obstacles will be what clothes I’ll be allowed to wear.” I turned away from her in frustration, snatched a chair from under the table and sat down.

“Besides,” I continued, “the purpose of going to the seminary is to learn what’s expected of me and to prepare me to meet those expectations.”

She sat down next to me and said, "Jase, listen. Remember when you were starting confirmation preparation and you had to do a service project. We were sitting at this very table. Do you recall what you told me you wanted to do?”

Sheepishly, I bowed my head. "Yeah, I wanted to go out in the park to play my saxophone and bring decent jazz to the uninitiated of the neighborhood."

She grinned. "And what did Father Petrocelli tell you?"

"He said that wasn't a proper service project but was simply my way of becoming famous. He believed my actions were more self-service than charitable because I was urging people not only to listen, but also to donate money if they enjoyed my performance. But Mom, you knew I was going to give the money I made for the homeless shelter! Father Pete was just too short-sighted!"

She took a breath. "That's just my point, Jase. You have a problem with authority. Sometimes you’re so busy seeing the trees, you miss the forest. Father Pete wanted you to engage in an activity which would help others see the glory of God, not man’s glory in man. Sure you would have given the money to the shelter, but that wasn’t the issue; he wanted you to give of yourself. Otherwise, you could have just written a check and be done with it."

My indignation reached the boiling point and anger took over. I found myself practically screaming at her.

"So basically, what you're saying, Mom, is that Paulie was more giving and selfless than I! What a cosmic joke! Look at what's happened---all of Dad's hopes and dreams of having his older son exceed the family tradition of mere priesthood by becoming Pope was flushed down the toilet when Paulie met Cynthia." My mother's lips trembled at my statement, but I was too far gone emotionally to care about her feelings. "And where did he meet her--in church? No! He met her at the gas station. What lofty service was he performing? He charitably offered to fill her tank!! You think I can't change, but Paulie did. Why is it so impossible for you to believe I could become worthy of serving when Paulie, who was, as you guys liked to tell me all my life, 'born to priestly life' dropped out of the seminary and decided not to serve? At least in the way you had planned."

Neither of my parents liked to discuss Paulie’s decision. They still loved him, but whenever I wanted to get them off my back, I just had to mention this sore spot. She never answered my question. She simply sighed, got up from the table and as she walked away, she muttered, “Man plans, God laughs."

My relationship with my family changed forever that afternoon. Gone were the days when I could take my future goals lightly. I was under the microscope. I vowed to prove to my mother she was wrong in her assessment of my intention. Eventually she was convinced, but not without expressing serious reservations. My father, still stringing from the disappointment of Paulie’s defection three years earlier, was just as doubtful. But when he saw how determined and devoted, I was, he too, was won over. He still made his comments about all the female members of the parish coming to mass simply to look at me (both of my parents thought I was too handsome for the priestly vocation). While it irritated me, I enjoyed the new relationship between us. Soon I started having “wish conversations” with him, but instead of in the kitchen, we talked at the gym.

It was thinking about the gym reference which forced me to stop playing and glance at my watch. Today was one of the days of our weekly workout sessions. And I was now going to be late for the first time. I put the instrument back in its place in the corner and quickly put on my warm-up suit. Grabbing my keys, I left my rooms, went down the stairs and out the front door to the street.

Something in the way Jason crossed the floor made Paul stop pacing. I could feel my father’s eyes on me before he said a word. I knew that look. It was the one he got when he thought something had gone wrong and was bracing himself to hear what it was.

"Why didn't you call and let me know what was going on, Jase?", asking as I approached with the basketball under my arm. I didn’t answer.