A Cowgirl (9/18/2023)

By the time I was 5, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up; I wanted to be a cowgirl. I had seen the shows like Gunsmoke, The Lone Ranger, Cheyenne, and The Rifleman. When Christmas time neared, I would tell anyone who would listen that I wanted a saddle, a horse, a leather jacket, a holster and gun for Christmas. And every year I got a doll. To say I was disappointed was like saying the surface of the sun is warm, a gross understatement. Unfortunately, those poor dolls never fared well. They didn’t look a bit like Dale Evans.

Eventually, ragged with ratty hair, those poor dolls would disappear only to re-appear months later as nun dolls. I later found out the Franciscan Sisters who ran our school had a side business of converted worn out dolls into pristine nun dolls that looked just like them. As the number of nun dolls on the shelf in my room grew, I must admit the thought occurred to me that maybe I was supposed to be a nun. I certainly had more “nun” stuff than “cowgirl” stuff. Maybe it was a sign. With age I learned that God doesn’t work like that, and I dismissed that idea.

I never did get my saddle, horse or even leather jacket. I finally realized that cowgirl was a stretch for me. I lived in the Okefenokee Swamp, after all, not the ranges of Texas or Wyoming. So, I turned my sights elsewhere, thanks to my father, who suggested that I be an engineer, maybe even an architect. So, from the time I was 12 until I headed off to Iowa State University, my sights were set on engineering, but I still would stop everything to watch a Western like Wanted Dead or Alive or Bonanza.

In 1968, I entered Iowa State University as the only female engineering student. The first class I had was a seminar in which we were assigned an essay – “Why I Think I Can Be an Architect.” When we handed them in, the professor stood at the front of the class, shuffled through the assignments until he found mine, and announced, “Sorry I made you all do this because all I really wanted was to read this one.” And then he proceeded to read my essay to the class. And as I listened to him read and noticed everyone looking at me, something inside of me told me I probably wasn’t cut out to be an architect either. It had always been my father’s dream for me, not mine.

The road to becoming me was quite full of by-ways that didn’t lead me where I was supposed to go. But they weren’t complete busts, either. I learned a great deal about life and about the LORD along the way. And with each turn, I may not have found the right slot, but I was ruling out the wrong ones. In the end, it wasn’t I who decided what it was that I should be. It was the LORD inviting me through others, first to be a catechist, then to be the director of faith formation and youth minister. And in those roles, accompanying others on the way, I found myself coming “alive.”

Funny thing. In 1955, if I had told anyone I wanted to be a catechist, youth minister, a director of faith formation for a large parish, or seminary professor, everyone would have looked at me as if I was an alien. I was here. I was discerning my path. But the path hadn’t opened yet. But it did, sort of. I did find myself “trailblazing” a bit. I consoled myself often telling myself that was my “cowgirl” dream coming true in an urban setting. And I realized that my “cowgirl” period brought something useful to my real life, I can corral a herd of youth better than most. And my engineering period brought me skills in problem solving that turned out to be essential.

Be patient. I have to tell myself that still, to this day. It is not my forte, in case you didn’t know. However, I have been trying to practice it for decades. The LORD’s path is the right path because along it we discern, and we learn and we develop. When I think of my “cowgirl” days, I have to chuckle. But I also have to give thanks. I think the choices were mine all along: cowgirl, engineer. But the LORD helped me to gain something along the way because the LORD was with me even when I was off road.

Our lives in the LORD, our journey back to the One who sent us forth, has purpose. Finding it, deciphering it, that is our job, that is our calling. I pray that each of us this day has the opportunity to reflect upon that which the LORD has laid before us that will aid us in our journey. It is not our destination, but with prayer and patience, it might be just what we need to make the journey.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.