There's a gal who lives about an hour away from here who used to be a nun.
A bride of Christ.
That entails taking a vow of celibacy and committing your life to doing God's work on earth. Not something to be taken lightly.
And she didn't take it lightly. She was at once thrilled and distressed when God Himself, speaking through several layers of earthly intermediaries of course, commanded her to move to Peru, there to spread the gospel of Christ among the indigenous people and win souls for the Lord.
That's a tall order. Many of the indigenous people there still recall the tales that have been handed down from generation to generation about the horrific consequences that followed the first collision of indigenous culture and the gospel of Christ.
It wasn't pretty.
Nevertheless our dear daughter of Christ heeded the call and soon found herself ministering to the heathens in Peru.
Not too long after, she found herself falling in love with one of those aboriginal heathens.
Not too long after that, she found herself quitting the nunnery, marrying said heathen, and sponsoring the object of her affections to come to Canada, which he did.
He got busy sponsoring myriad relatives, heathen and non-heathen, aboriginal and not-so-much, to come to Canada.
He set up a restaurant in Waterloo where his vast network of newly arrived relatives could work.
Before long he was spending all his time with his "relatives" and none with his wife.
While it took her a few years to "smell the coffee," as they say, she now realizes she should have stuck with Jesus.