I was born a priest’s kid, PK as it is affectionately called. My dad is an Orthodox Priest, 29 years and counting. It is a life to which I am very accustomed. Church every Sunday plus coffee hour, Vespers on Saturday nights, and small services throughout the week. This PK life is not for the faint of heart. The schedule can consist of attending church a few times a week, keeping strict fast during Lent, joining house blessings, and my dad leaving at dinner time to pray with a family in the hospital room. My friends know me as the “priest kid”- the kid who always leaves Sunday morning sleepovers due to having church precisely at 9:30, and with the dad who wears a long black dress (really they are just his vestments).
On Saturdays, my dad “locks” himself in his office to write the sermon for Sunday. By the time I wake on Sunday mornings, he is already gone to get there early for confessions. On days when people come knocking on our door to tell us what they believe, my dad very firmly and passionately shares with them what is written in the Bible. But on other nights, I spend time with him after dinner and just talk, whether it’s about boys or my future. He helps me with my homework on days when I really need it, and every Wednesday we have our traditional sushi snack after school.
Over the years I have taken for granted that I am able to see my dad work. Many kids don’t get to see their dads in action. I am lucky enough to watch my dad always passionately do his job. By his vocation, I’ve learned to pursue my dreams and do it with my fullest passion. Seeing how he has touched lives has inspired me to do the same. I grew this passion for missionary work so I can touch lives as he does, but in a different way. I get to see him at his most “holiness” and other days when he’s at his lowest point. From this I’ve learned humility, and that even the most holy are not perfect. By watching my dad spread the word of God so passionately, it has inspired me to also continue on in this faith I was born into.
I never realized how different I am to other kids until recently. Being a PK is not normal. Through my childhood, I just did what my parents told me to do and went through the motions, and that was church. But now that I look at my other friends, it is very seldom to see anyone else doing the same.
I am leaving for my World Race in August and I can not wait to spread the word of God like my dad does. I will always be thinking of my dad when I leave for my nine months of mission work, because I would not be where I am without him. I am going to compare my nine months of missionary work to my dad’s seminary time when he was my age. He left for Rome at 16 to go to seminary to get deeper in his faith and learn how to teach others the word of God, much like how I will be leaving for Albania in August to grow deeper in my faith and teach others the word of God. I can really see his life reflected into mine and I feel so lucky to have him as my dad.
