Before I forget&

     
THE REST OF THE STORY...(cont'd from last week)
      Where did I get the grit and determination to make it through basic training?  As I reflect on those moments back in 1983, I know the Lord was watching over me, even though I didn't think about him much then.  I figure he knew that this was a pivotal part of my life; either my character would be shaped or be doomed to hopelessness.  This was a time for character building.
     In the Army, I was a medic.  So when I got out, I got a job as a phlebotomist a plasma collection facility, which pays donors for the liquid part of their blood.  During this time, I struggled with an issue that was haunting me nearly all my life.  I prayed to God to somehow have this issue resolved.  My sister-in-law challenged me to see the reality of who and what I was.  I took her words to heart.  I meditated to discover what God was saying to me.  I found my self-identity.  I was counting my blessings, thanking the Lord for being with me.  I had faith, a belief, and a love for the Lord.  What I lacked was structure to develop my faith.  I decided to return to the Catholic Church found my home at Saint Olaf in downtown Minneapolis. 
     I did not want to be in the plasma business forever, so I decided to go back to school at night.  Since I was strong in mathematics growing up, accounting seemed to be a logical choice for a major and career path.  With a new focus, school work was much easier than at Moorhead State.  In 1991, I graduated from Minneapolis Community College with an A.S. in Accounting and membership in the Phi Theta Kappa Honors Society.  I continued my education at Metropolitan State University.  Seven years of night school came to an end when, on March 25, 1996, I received my BS in Accounting. 
     As my faith evolved, my involvement with Saint Olaf grew.  I made the first step by volunteering to be a Eucharistic Minister.  Then they asked me to help count collections in the quiet room.  Then I volunteered to be a   Lector.  Finally, I was asked to be on staff as an usher.  But as I was seating people, I felt God was pointing at me and pointing at the seat He wanted me to sit, namely the presider's chair.  I knew God was calling me to be priest, but I needed more than my feeling, I needed a convincing sign.  After all, anyone can talk himself into anything and live to regret it.  I was no different.  I also had to decide what the motivation was, would I do it for His glory or mine.  People have suggested priesthood to me, but that still didn't move me.  I needed some sort of sign.   In 1997, I got one.
     When Grand Forks was devastated with the flood, I light a candle at church and prayed for God to spare my sister's house.  As it turned out, her house was one of the few that were untouched by the flood.  I don't claim to have the ear of God, that what I ask for is granted, especially when others prayed for the same thing and homes were still devastated.  What I do say is that Gods calls the people who are blessed in these natural disasters to do His work of service to His people who are affected.  My sister and her family answered that call in works of mercy for her community.   With my prayer answered, I knew what to do.
     So here I am.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  I look forward to hearing your story. 

Terry Beeson
Seminarian