GEORGETOWN — Texas attracted another corporate expansion this year, one that could have an impact on a major institution in this state, and one that flew under the radar of state leaders in Austin. The Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist are growing so rapidly, they had to build a second convent for the nuns. And they chose the Hill Country town of Georgetown.

The sisters, who founded their order in Ann Arbor, Mich., might seem like ordinary Catholic nuns, if the word ordinary could ever be applied to someone who takes such extraordinary vows. They wear long, white habits. They keep a regimen of prayer and worship throughout the day. Their mission is to teach schoolchildren. They smile kindly and talk a lot about God's will.

But do not be fooled by their gentle ways. These 140 nuns have tapped in to the earnest energy of a new generation of millennial recruits seeking a sense of community, permanence and joy. As Americans' trust in institutions dims and our skepticism of long-term commitment grows, the sisters have added so many young women to their order that they need more space. The order that was established when four nuns moved to Ann Arbor in 1997 has grown to 140 (average age 32), more than the convent in Michigan can hold.

"We were out of room and so we had to go someplace," said Mother Mary Assumpta Long, prioress general and a founder of the order, in a recent interview at the new facility. "We had property in California, we had property here and you always want to do God's will. Where does God want us to land and build a community? But California we found was too, it was too difficult to build there because of just, issues."

"All those rules and regulations," Sister Joseph Andrew Bogdanowicz, also one of the four founders of the order, said in the interview.

"So we thought God wants us in Texas," Mother Assumpta Long said.

Sister Joseph Andrew Bogdanowicz (right) and Mother Assumpta Long, both foundresses of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, walk into a temporary chapel inside a new convent in Georgetown, Texas, on Feb. 18, 2019. Both women are from Ann Arbor, Mich., but traveled to Texas to speak to the media at the new convent location. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

So they raised $30 million and built a convent on land that had been donated outside of Georgetown. Twelve nuns have moved in, and there's room for 56. The sisters built living quarters and a large building with space for gathering and eating, with a temporary chapel. They plan to build a full chapel with housing for 115. For that they need to raise more money. They express no doubt that the expansion project will continue.

Sister Bogdanowicz said: "Too many people don't really take faith seriously. Like, they weigh everything. They produce more reasons why something can't work, and people are just so full of fear. And you're never going to get much done if you are. You have to think big and you have to act big, and God will bless that."

She said: "So again, just coming down to Texas, everything about this spirit is just kind of out there. What you see is what you get, and they say what they mean and they mean what they say and that's a very Dominican type of spirituality. We just said, the Texans just get it. They're just kind our type people. Let's think big and do big things for God. One lifetime's kind of short. Let's get moving."

The expansion is taking place at a time when the number of Catholic nuns in the U.S. and around the world is declining. According to the Vatican, there were 670,320 sisters around the world in 2015, down 7.1 percent from 2010. The U.S. experienced the largest decline of any region of the world among nuns during that time period, down 17.9 percent.

Women who join, called vocations, come from a variety of backgrounds, some fresh from high school, some with professional careers. The new members must gain teaching certification so they can contribute to the mission of the order, and several of the sisters are enrolled at Southwestern University to do so.

But the prospect of entering the teaching profession is not what's drawing new members to the order, of course. Sister Bogdanowicz is clearly gifted at helping young people discern their life work, and Mother Assumpta Long is clearly gifted at leading a group of people to collaborate joyfully. It is a righteous combination.

"People complain about millennials. I'm like, 'Give them to me.' My whole community's basically millennials except for the foundresses," Sister Bogdanowicz said.

The order has tapped into the spirit of a millennial generation seeking meaningful work and permanence. Yes, becoming a nun is a lifelong commitment, a marriage to the church. The women undergo an eight-year process before taking the final vows.

"If you ask a young woman, and this will come from every one of the sisters, 'Why did you first begin thinking about this, and what was the attraction?' The word that they will use consistently is joy. They will say, 'There was so much joy and it rang true in my heart,'" Sister Bogdanowicz said.

"Yeah, that's true," Mother Assumpta Long said.

"I think if you really think about that word, it stems from that total gift of self to a sacrificial level. No two people get married and don't give themselves to each other. That's a total gift, and it comes from that sacrifice. But, it leads to incredible freedom of the interior person, and how does it express itself, through the joy, which is universal," Sister Bogdanowicz said.

The exterior of a new Dominican Sisters of Mary convent in Georgetown, Texas. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

The women share that joy in music. The order has recorded several CDs of choral music, including Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring, which hit the No. 1 spot on Billboard's classical music charts after its release in 2017. (Really.)

Mother Assumpta Long said: "I tell people that it's such an adventure to be religious because when you worship, you never know what he has in mind. You never know. All you do is trust and you follow him, but he had it all planned. We didn't have a clue. Never in our wildest imagination, did we ever think about being in Texas when we first started."

"When we first came to Michigan," Sister Bogdanowicz said, "when we got into Michigan at night from New York, and of course, there's the four of us. We pull in, in the evening, and it's pouring down rain and it's dark. And we go to the little house we were going to be in temporarily, because we needed to build our mother house.

"We got up early the next morning, as we always do, at five o'clock to begin our prayers and everything. There was a knock at the door. This is 5 a.m. in cold Michigan. I went to the door and there was a young woman sitting there. She said, 'I don't know who you are or where you're from, but I was following. My car was behind yours last night and the lights were coming through your back window and I could see there were real sisters, and I just had to follow you here. It was too late to bother you so I went back to my apartment.' She was at the university."

"'I just couldn't sleep,' so she said, 'I got up early. I just came up, sitting in the driveway, waiting for the lights to come on. I think I have a vocation. What do I do?' And it has been like that ever since."

That woman joined the order. The sisters take vocations as young as 18 and up to about age 33. One happened to be an architect, which was fortuitous as the order expands. Another came from Mexico, and her fluent Spanish landed her in a leadership position in Texas.

Sister Bogdanowicz disclosed some of her secrets to helping people find their calling in life.

"You ask a lot of questions and you really listen," she said. "Since I've been doing this most of my religious life, I can see what they're defending and kind of going towards."

If a young woman is considering joining the order but talks about a desire to get married and have children, she said, "I'm like, 'Honey, why are you thinking you should be a sister? God put that desire in your heart. You need to go married. Pray for your future husband.'

"Fear can throw us way off. I'm like, 'Be not afraid. You have to open up and trust. Now tell me who you are, what makes you happy, where do you lean? What have you fought in life, what are your deepest desires, where's your passion?'"

When a woman says the convent feels like home, that's when Sister Bogdanowicz thinks she has found a new member.

She said she also helps young people in the schools where she teaches discern their life paths, too, but she's not interested in their future careers.

"To a certain extent, they're products of the world. I was going to say they're victimized by the world. Because again that's money, that's power, that's possessions."

"I think there's a lot of anxiety because I think people crave for a bigger plan. I'm like, 'OK, how is your heart to made to love?' That's the question. How is your heart made to love and to receive love? What's the completion of your heart? That's your vocation. It's not a career."

Elizabeth Souder is Points editor, assistant opinion editor and editorial board member for The Dallas Morning News. Twitter: @esouder