Mick Mulvany

Growing up in an Irish Catholic family with eight siblings, I think it’s written somewhere that we had to produce one religious vocation. I know that my brothers were grateful that I “took one for the team,” I am not sure many others thought I would be the one ordained a priest. I was not the holiest child. I acted up in church, constantly testing my parent’s patience, and according to my sisters, I could stir things up like a Midwest tornado just by walking into a room.

When my mom told her friends she had a son going to seminary, they replied that they were so happy for (my perfect brother) Tim. When Mom corrected them, most people smiled politely. I am sure they were thinking, “He’ll never make it.” I didn’t blame them; I think I felt the same way. So, no one saw this coming, least of all, me. However, God is a persistent friend in my life. One who never gives up on me, and one who kept telling me in the words and actions of others, “You’ll be fine, come follow me.”

After 30 plus years of ministry, doing work I love while still questioning my ability, I have come to understand that I most enjoy speaking to others about the Word of God. My Irish heritage serves me well as the Holy Spirit, and I embark on a weekly journey of preaching. These stories help heroes and villains alike find a home in the presence of God. I am probably not far removed from that kid who seemed to find trouble everywhere I turned, but I am sure that everyone, including the child inside of me, will hear the love that God has for all people in the words of these stories and the preaching in my book.