I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

Look. I love Fr. Matthew. He's my favorite priest/monk of all-time minus the saints. I have images of walking through the woods with him, he in his long black habit and long walking stick, me laughing, "You love us Father! We're your children!" I have images of him teasing me about practically everything and then accepting my constant taunts back at him (or did I start it?) I have visions of him lecturing for hours about Canon Law and Doctrine and actually quoting verbatim various codes and encyclicals. He's a wonderful priest. I would do anything for him. I'd take a bullet for him. But there's one thing I wouldn't do, as I found out yesterday. After liturgy he came and got two of us and brought us out of the church with a conspiratorial grin on his face. "What are you doing Thursday?" he asked. I said, "Nothing Father. Why?" I was looking forward already to doing whatever he mentioned. My hopes were dashed as he mentioned there was a hiking trip that he and a parishoner were going on. It turned out he needed at least one other person to come (a priest alone with a girl? Can't happen, especially these days. That's where I came in.) Well, I'm no professional hiker but my dad raised me competant enough to handle a decent amount of walking, or even managing some slopes. So, although I was disappointed, knowing hiking was not my strength, I still figured I could go. Good thing I asked how long the trek was. "12 miles," he said offhandedly, as if it was no big deal. "12 miles!?" I shrieked at him (I'm always shrieking at him. This was, by the way, after he called my shoes 'bowling shoes' just to mock me. So he asks for this treatment.) Then Barbara (coordinator) comes in and starts assuring me I could do it. Father is certain as well. I hum and haw then say I'll call Barbara that day to confirm. I feel strange about it walking out, so in the car I call my dad. He would know what I could do. Anything nature-like I've ever done I've done with him, pretty much. "Dad, could I do a 12 mile hike?" "12 miles!? Does it have to be 12 miles?" he demands. "Um, yeah. The Ukie priest is taking us." "No, no, you can't do 12 miles. You could do 6 miles." "That's it? Didn't we walk from--" "That wasn't 12 miles!" "It wasn't?" It had felt like it. Good thing I called Dad. I called Barbara right back and laid the chips out on the table for her. Look, I'll do anything for my love of Fr. Matthew and my Ukie church, but NOT THAT!