After a Long Absence/ On A Path Finally Taken

These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration:--feelings too  Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered, acts Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust, To them I may have owed another gift, Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood, In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world,  Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, 

~ "Lines", William Wordsworth 

 Greetings, my dear friends.

I apologize for the long absence, but in life things change, and it's entirely possible this blog has come to an end. It has been a labor of love, a labor of defiance at times, and, for long time readers, an obvious catharsis. It is perhaps because of this blog and time away in prayer and reflection that has helped to open another door in my life.

As an update, at this time I am not considering religious life, and believe that door to be closed. I fully believe Our Lord called me to deeply discern that Call, but in the end, He desired only that I say yes, and be willing, even though He has not allowed my own response to be possible. Although I am saddened in some ways, in others I realize it simply means He calls me on to other adventures, and this is glorious for God always knows where our true happiness lies. It means I continue on, the pilgrim that I am, perhaps now going into "special ops" mode in the spiritual sense of the word. By this I do not imply extreme holiness (since I have no where near achieved it), only, rather, deeper adventure, deeper mission, more covert and hidden operations in my heart and soul than can be shared with the great unknown ocean that makes up the internet world.

In this time of absence here, though, I have been working. It was as if a dam broke, and after a couple years of no interest in writing, I have, in just the last couple months, written one book and am half-way through the sequel, perhaps of a trilogy.

A couple months ago while doing some "nothing" reading, suddenly an old idea clicked in my mind and the story and characters have come to life. I have a couple dear friends who are  helping me with this project, providing support and even professional editing assistance, connecting me with resources (including people to interview) for research purposes, and even more amazingly, God has connected me with a very holy priest who also writes fiction (so far unpublished as he has not sought it yet), who has become the kind of friend every Catholic writer needs.

Just today I spoke with him about story development, and he commented on the recently deceased author Vincent Flynn (Rest in Peace) who was a faithful Catholic who lived what he believed. He noted that Flynn allowed the characters to have "free will", and this is a mark in Catholic writing. Writing is of course an art, and as Catholics, if we are faithful, if we allow God to work through us, even in works that are not religious in nature, our faith shines through.

The books I am writing are not "Catholic" in the religious sense. They are simply stories about people, they are adventure, thriller, action, and romance. They are merely human drama....yet, is there anything "mere" about the drama in the average human life? I'm not speaking here of emotional angst, but some of the deepest yearnings of the human soul, which often play out in ways that seem superficial.

As an aside....

This is why we have fiction. Our very souls are laid out nakedly in fiction; it's why we are drawn to it, identify with characters that do not exist, and engage with a story that never happened. One theologian, I believe it was Fr. Thomas Dubay, once observed that our engagement with a story in which that story comes to life in our imaginations, bringing us directly into it, is actually like a state of contemplative prayer. It is NOT the same thing, but it reveals our ability to engage all of our senses and abilities; and if we can do that with mere fiction, it also indicates we can do so even more deeply, more completely, in communion with God.  I would suggest, therefore, that reading good fiction may very well be a preparation for prayer and help us engage more deeply; that is, if we read the right things.

Moving on...

Getting back to the main point of this post, I haven't been writing a religious work, yet I found, when I completed the first draft, that Catholic themes are present. I cannot write what I do not believe. I can create characters who don't share my beliefs, and I can establish themes and content, but in the end, who I am as a Catholic is still imprinted upon the characters and within the story. Themes of sin, of redemption, forgiveness, sacrifice and eternal union arise in ways that are perhaps unexpected.

In writing seriously, I have found that my characters do truly have "free will", for they don't match what I want them to do, but seem to have minds of their own. Characters I'd like to see go down one path, in an interaction with another character choose a different one...and somehow, details emerge about the importance of the deviation from what I, the author want.

I have found, thanks to brief conversations with my priest friend, that I now have the ability to go back in this work of revision, looking with different eyes at where the free will of the characters emerge, for none of them are clones of me. They don't act as I do, they don't respond as I do. Nor do I want them to do so.

My friend today pointed out that this act of writing is an act of co-creation with God, in allowing the characters to develop, to become who they are and not necessarily what I originally envisioned them to be. It is humbling to think of it in those terms, yet his comments hearken back to the philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, revealing the proof of God's existence as the First Mover. A painting points to an artist, and the brush held by the artist, and in any given creation, God is that artist. A book points to the pen and the author, but then, who created the author?

Any truth points to God, if it is really true.

Whether or not my book will be published, I can't say. Although the first draft of the first book is complete, and I've done a read-through and minor correction with the second draft (typos, minor things), the third draft is in deep progress and will take time and additional research as I await one of my  important contacts to come back into the country to be available to assist with special-ops information. (non-classified) ;-)

It's amazing how many people I've already had to involve in just writing the first draft, and now I understand the litany of thanks given in any published book, for no author acts alone or anonymously.

So with that, dear readers, I thank you for the prayers and sacrifices you have offered me over the last several years, and beg for more in this new endeavor (and always for my Vocation, whatever it may be as I enter middle age).

It's entirely possible this blog is not at an end, however, I likely won't be writing much here any more. I can say that perhaps there will be other updates and other actions of God that prompt me to add another post, but maybe the "Tales of Adoro" are largely at an end since the original purpose of this blog has fallen into oblivion.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey, and, God willing, it will continue albeit in a direction I never really expected.

God bless you all, and thank you. From the bottom of my heart and the core of my soul, thank you.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

 ~ "The Road Not Taken", Robert Frost

Why Won't They Invite Me?

I haven't written on Vocational discernment for awhile, but recently a question was posed to me and I thought others may benefit from the answer.

The person in question had been in correspondance with a few religious communities for several months, but after a time, they stopped writing. She was interested in visiting them and wondered why they had not invited her to visit. Was there something wrong with her? Was this common practice with cloistered religious? Should she keep writing to them or was this a "closed door"?

Her questions are good ones, and there are, actually several different answers so I'm only going to choose the most likely given the circumstances she described.

First, she described she'd been writing to them for some time, and they responded. This is a good thing and a necessary step in discernment. Many communities, especially those that are cloistered, do not have an online presence so prefer that potential candidates write to them the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper (although typewritten/printed out is the new "old fashioned"), and sent by snail mail with postage stamp and all.

Those letters are important as they introduce the individual and community to each other. In the meantime that community will be praying for theirs and that person's discernment, and looking to see if perhaps that individual would "fit" with them, if they are serious about discerning or merely "sightseeing", if they have impediments, or if they are truly free to follow the Lord wherever He leads. 

In my experience, in this type of correspondance with different communities, I decided on my own (through prayer, through circumstances, etc) that it was time to end the correspondance with a particular place; it wasn't for me. That's not to say it was a "bad" community; simply that it wasn't where God was calling me to go, not even for a visit.

In another case, I also experienced, after one response to my inquiry, they did not respond again. Because I was having problems with a particular email account I re-sent a response with apologies citing the computer issues. They still didn't respond. I walked away, too.

A religious sister I met along the way also had looked at religious communities and one cloistered community she truly wanted to visit would not respond to letters, return phone calls...nothing. The monastery in particular was looking for vocations, so she thought their lack of response quite odd, and ended up contacting another, then ended up meeting members of an active community while she was actively, as in, at an event, trying to find the Carmelites she wanted to join! Well...God always has better plans than ours, doesn't He?

So what does a non-response mean?  Sometimes it simply means that particular door is closed. If it doesn't open, there isn't a crowbar in the world to open it. Look elsewhere and trust God.

Moving on to the second part of her question, the young woman wondered about visiting - why hadn't they invited her for a visit?

This is a VERY important question!

I was cued into it because of the context she gave of the letters back and forth.

My most faithful readers will remember my visit to the Cistercians and some of the things that built up to it. The Cistercians are cloistered and somehow caught my attention in a way I could not deny. So I wrote to them (via email as they are online), and a correspondance ensued. They did not invite me to visit at any point, but rather, helped to guide my discernment of them, and in general. One of their suggestions was that I read "The Cistercian Way", which I had to put off because of my graduate studies. I knew I had to focus on each thing in its own time. When I had read the book, we discussed it and I confessed that I would still like to come for a visit.

I had to ask. They were not going to offer. I had to request to come to them.

Why is this?

I've noticed most especially through cloistered communities that they are very careful not to push. They may greatly desire new candidates, but they want to allow that soul and God to comune, so that the soul freely comes, and not through power of suggestion.

You see, especially in American culture, we are all about "politeness" and we are very overly-sensitized to "hurt feelings."

In our day-to-day living, we would not even THINK about just inviting ourselves over to someone's home for a visit. We may call relatives and ask to visit them in the summer, whether to stay with them or drop by if we are in their area - but in that case, we already have a relationship with them that provides an open door to that sort of thing.

When it comes to strangers, however, we do not want to impose ourselves upon them, and that's how we tend to feel about religious communities. We recognize that the convent or monastery or abbey is their home, and they are strangers we would like to meet, but our social taboos make it very difficult to get our minds around the concept that, in the case of discernment, it is acceptable to ask to visit, and in fact, it's necessary.

The other reason the vocation directors at these communities wait for the request is this: some contact them only looking for more information; they may not be ready for a visit. Yet if they are invited, they may feel that it is rude not to accept the request, or they may fear "hurt feelings" if they turn down the invitation. In that case, they may pretend willingness to schedule a retreat, and then go, completely unprepared for the experience - and that can destroy a vocation entirely. Someone who is not ready is not going to be able to properly discern, and a bad experience early on can have lasting effects.

A good religious community is, of course, looking for postulants, but not at the expense of the individual souls who come to them. They desire the good for that person, and see their visit as an opportunity to help them grow closer to God, to know His will for them, and therefore benefit them and their future community, or marriage, or spiritual life in general.

This is why they do not invite, but wait for that request to come; then they know the soul may be ready for what God has in store for them.

I hope this has been helpful for some of you out there in discernment. Know that what I have written here is only in limited scope and addresses the practices of many cloisterd communities. I have found the active religious congregations to be more out front with invitations, but they, too, act with care and concern for the good of the soul that comes to them, and even many of the active Sisters will wait for a request before they throw open their doors to welcome someone for a visit.

Vocational discernment can be a very confusing time, but sometimes, knowing a little about the culture and expectations of the various communities can go a long ways towards easing some of that difficulty. I truly hope that, over the years I have written on this topic, that my own trips and tumbles along this rocky road to Emmaus have made the path straighter and less confusing for someonen else.

God bless you and may the Holy Spirit guide you in your discernment!

Norbertine Fathers - Gregorian Chant

It has been my great pleasure this week to have received the honor of a reviewing Gregorian Chant - Requiem, sung by the Norbertine Fathers of the St. Michael's Abbey.  It is also a great pleasure to be able to review this incredible album on the 5th Sunday of Lent, in which we just heard the gospel account of the death and resurrection of Lazarus.

In this season of Lent in which we contemplate the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Our Lord, there is nothing better than a Requiem chant to aid in contemplation of His sacrifice. None of us are untouched by death, that terrible result of original sin; all of us need the reminder of our final ends, and the price paid for our salvation. All of us have experienced the death of a loved one at one point or another in our lives, an experience that is repeated more and more as we progress in years.

In Lent, as we approach Good Friday, we all share in the depths of grief of the Blessed Mother as we approach the shadow the Cross - it is on Holy Thursday that we enter, united through the Church, into a period of mourning and for those who have suffered loss, it may be all the more poignant, for inherent within that deep sense of grief remains an eternal hope.

A Requiem Mass, for those who are unfamiliar, is a Mass offered for one who has died. Those unfamiliar with it may find more information at the Catholic Encyclopedia entry on the subject.

The Norbertine Fathers have produced a hauntingly beautiful recording of the traditional prayers of the Requiem Mass, made even more so by the Providential weather on the day it was created. As the letter that accompanied the review copy stated,

The Old cliche' of a badly written novel beginning with the words: "It was a dark and stormy night..." could well apply to the recording of this album, as the date that worked for all the singers to record was the day of one of the longest and most violent tempests of 2010. The abbey's cantor, Fr. Chrysostom Baer, decided that, far from detracting from the quality of the recording,t he howling winds actually added to the haunting tones of chant. This is the reason for the atmospheric effects heard in the background of many of the recorded tracks.

Indeed, Father Baer is correct. I find the sound of wind to be especially proper to the music, for Gregorian Chant has long been referred to as "the breath of God", given its regular tones, rising and falling, natural pauses, all reminiscent and conducive to human need to breathe in order to sustain life. Chant is particularly profound, for it blends physical life with the spiritual need to breathe in communio with God, the author of all life, who created us as body and soul together. It is in this form of music that God is most profoundly glorified, for the theology of the body and the theology of the music, physically and spiritually, reveals the fullness of our Faith and has inherently within it a vivid, sung witness not just to the hope of eternal life, but also to the resurrection of the body.

I found the howling winds to be most prominent in the Kyrie, Dies Irae, and De Profundis, and rather than detracting from it, I was drawn even more deeply into the ancient tones of the chant, chilled to the soul, yet held within the protective warmth of the sacred prayers.

The CD comes with an insert containing the Latin words with English translation, so those who fear they won't understand the music have nothing to fear and can pray right along!

It should be noted that these chants are taken from the Norbertine Liturgy, with which many of us are probably very unfamiliar in name, although it followed very closely the Roman Canon of the Mass.

The chant most striking to me about it was the Agnus Dei (Lamb of God) for the Requiem:

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam. 

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them eternal rest.

I don't want to spoil the CD for you so all I can tell you is this: it is available in Stores, physically and digitally, this Tuesday, April 12, 2011 and you really NEED to go out and get a copy so that it can aid your contemplation during Holy Week!

To purchase, go to www.jade-music.com.

As always, pray that more souls will answer God's call to serve Him in these holy Vocations of the Priesthood and Religious Life. 

The following information is provided by Jade Music:

GREGORIAN CHANT: REQUIEM BY THE NORBERTINE FATHERS OF ST. MICHAEL’S ABBEY
Available in Stores, physically and digitally, on April 12, 2011

This is the third Gregorian chant album by the Norbertine Fathers of St. Michael's Abbey in California. This is not an actual Mass, but the traditional Requiem music according to the ancient Norbertine Rite, a form of the liturgy similar to the ubiquitous Roman Rite but the exclusive patrimony of the Norbertine Fathers. The album is available in stores on April 12, 2011.

The Norbertine Fathers and the Pacific Symphony
Thanks to the buzz and press coverage surrounding the previous two album releases, Carl St. Clair, the music director of the Pacific Symphony Orchestra, invited the Norbertines to perform with the Orchestra. The three concerts, which took place in late February 2011 at the Segerstrom Center for the Arts in Costa Mesa, CA, were extremely popular and well received. 

The Expansion Project
St. Michael’s Abbey has been blessed with many vocations since its beginnings in the 1960s, and the boarding preparatory school consistently receives the highest ratings for its classical education and formation. Because of its growth, the community needs to expand its facilities. When the community began to consider expanding, it discovered that its current site is geologically unstable so the community will have to move to new land
Jade Music
Jade Music has a proven dedication to releasing quality classical and spiritual music for more than 20 years. It established itself as the premiere record label of the choir of the Abbey of Santo Domingo de Silos, Spain. Jade Music is distributed by ADA/Warner Music Group in the United States, Universal Music in France, JVC in Japan, and Warner Music International in the rest of the world.

GREGORIAN CHANT: REQUIEM (Tracklisting)
1. Rain and Bells  2. Introit: Requiem 3. Kyrie 4. Gradual: Requiem 5. Gradual: Si Ambulem 6. Prose: Dies Irae 7. Tract: De Profundis 8. Offertory: Domine Jesu Christe 9. Preface 10. Sanctus 11. Agnus Dei 12. Communion Antiphon: Lux Aeterna; Requiescant 13. Responsory for the Commendation of the Soul: Subvenite 14. Antiphon for the Procession of the Body: Suscipiat vos Christus 15. Antiphon for the Procession of the Body: Chorus Angelorum

The Sacrifice of Vocation: Family

This last summer, during my retreat in Wisconsin, as I knelt praying at 6 a.m.or so, I pondered the sacrifices required of any Vocation.

I thought of the priests I know who, like it or not, are offering Mass at 6:30 a.m. or earlier, or even in the evening on Sundays, 9 or 10:00 pm if they are assigned to a college campus.  Their preferences matter not; they have laid their lives down for Christ, and it is He whom they serve, according to the needs of the Mystical Body, no matter how inconvenient.

I knelt there that early morning, preferring to be snoozing, pondering the reality of the married life.

Yes; I was pondering married life and the sacrifices required of any couple.

I thought of those who were single women, who left behind or dispensed with what they had or combined their property with that of their beloved. I thought of those men I knew who sold or gave away their property in order to receive that of their beloved, and together, make their home.

I meditated deeply upon those families that combine their resources. Fundamental to my meditation was, actually, my mother's expressed position that those who marry our relatives become members (are absorbed into) our family. She did not reference any relative as "removed" as in the terms "a cousin once-removed" or "twice-removed".  Those were mere legal terms; they did not express the reality of our family.

I could recall many times my mother deflected me away from legal definitions in order to help me understand that marriage bound one family to another, helping me to see that the fruit of the various marriages were my own relatives, those bound in the Sacrament truly became my own cousins or aunts or uncles. If they were related in any way, they were family and should be received as family and acknowledged as family.

This reality came home to me in a special way after my parents divorced when I was a child. Family on Mom's side always asked after Dad and his family. Family on Dad's side never acknowledged the fact we had other relatives.

That said a lot. A lot.

I pondered, this summer, deeply, the effects of a decision to end my solitude

I considered that for so long I have been an "old maid", so accepted in our culture, yet...so unnatural in God 's own order.

I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being an anomaly, of being the "old maid" in a culture so PC it can't call a spade a spade for fear of being sued by the ACLU.

A man and a woman, when they are married, make some very serious changes to their lives.

I know that, as a woman, if I married, my life would change. I would embrace a different schedule, adopt traditions belonging to another family and make those traditions my own. I'd make sacrifices and my life, as I know it, would be no more. Period.

My definition of "freedom" would change, for I would give up my life for love, I would forsake my belongings for love, and I would look to a future with my beloved, rendering mere "stuff" unimportant.

In this regard, entering religious life is no different than marriage.

When I enter, I enter, as in marriage, with all that I am and all that I am not.

I will take on another family, and that family, in turn, will absorb me and mine into it. We will become bound together.  Life will not be the same. Whether I am married or whether I enter religious life it is the same; I cannot continue as I am, as a single woman.

I look forward to and welcome the change. Yes, it is a struggle as I look around my house and realize my attachments, but I know my attachments make my sacrifice greater, for if I didn't care, or rendered it all as "nothing" then I would ultimately go to Our Lord empty-handed, my offering meaningless.

Yes; I want to give everything to Him, for Him, through Him.

I want to enter my new family as a contributing member, knowing that any vows I take bonds my blood-family more closely to Our Lord, for, if my family's premise hold's true, they do not lose me, but only absorb another family.

If Jesus is my spouse, what does that mean, according to Mom's philosophy?

What family would not want to claim Jesus as a member?

I pray Mom lives long enough to see my final profession if it be God's will. I pray my brother not feel abandoned as he sees his sister enter "the cloister".

Yet...I haven't even begun....nothing is formal, I have no entrance date.

Just faith, hope, and love. Nothing more, nothing less.

That is the sacrifice of a Vocation.

Well, I've REALLY Gone and Done it Now...

This weekend, with my permission, Mom told the extended family of my Vocation.

From what I understand, one uncle, the only one who knew I was even considering it simply said "Good!". Another relative, sitting nearby, for the first time in recorded history, was actually shocked into silence.  (This is good luck; it bodes well for my own future ability to keep silence!).  Unfortunately I think they had to use a crane, a backhoe, and some crowbars to pry her jaw out of the ground. She is recovering nicely and attended the family wedding.  No scarring was noted by observers.


An unnamed person (whom I suspect to be a certain cousin) reacted thus:  "Cool! The family is going to have a nun that can shoot!" 

NO, I am NOT making this up!  He didn't even KNOW about the deputy who was teasing me while I was in high school, telling me I should become a nun. "A nun with a gun," he said with a chuckle.

So, now that the family knows and has had time to react and comment, I guess you can know, too:  I have made my decision, have asked to enter a certain community and have been given a yes.

Now, mind you, I've done no paperwork, taken no medical exams, no psychological tests. I've not jumped through any hoops and nothing is certain until the proverbial fat lady sings. (Where can I get a helmet with horns so that I can sing?)

Anyway, I'm not yet ready to announce where I am going, God willing.  I have thousands of dollars of debt between student loans and credit cards (which were used to pay for everything my paycheck didn't for the last 3 years), and my house, even IF it sells, has about $50,000 in negative equity.

No worries; I'm not in default on anything and haven't yet gotten to the point where I think bankruptcy is a good idea.  I'm hoping to come out of this scraped up but not completely squashed, but then again, I'm leaving my life as I know it in order to become united with Our Lord, so I guess being crushed is part of that whole plan.

OK....so be it.

So! I hope, if it does actually happen and I do actually enter as we all plan and hope for, that once I am clothed as a Novice I can go home to visit my family. That way, I can fulfill my cousin's enthusiasm, go out to the farm or a range and go shooting, full habit and all. He might die of joy at the sight.

Heck, if a Friar can use a guitar and a Monk can ride a skateboard for souls, who's to say a Nun can't use a gun?

Passion

I've made a decision....of sorts.


Today I received a response back to my most recent letter to the Passionists in St. Louis, which I sent under obedience to my spiritual director's orders. Sister is inviting me to visit them, in spite of what I revealed as a very peppered history and a hopeless amount of debt and obstacles.  My age, apparently, is not an issue; she reads in my letters sincerity, and in fact has not told the community about me as I am, in her words, "so far in the future".  By that she means that I won't be entering by May or August or October.  Yes, I'm an "if" but I am far in the future.


I gather from what she says that they are experiencing an unusually high number of inquiries and visits this year, and this is wonderful to "hear".  Please keep the St. Louis Passionists in your most heartfelt prayers!  I don't know if I will visit, or whether if I do, their particular community is for me, but this increase for them is a sign of the workings of the Holy Spirit, the life of the Church, and may He call MANY to this charism to offer their lives in union with the Passion of Our Lord!


So...you may be wondering, what is the "decision" I have made?


I may be speaking prematurely, but the one thing I know is that in order to progress in any way, I need to make a decision.  In looking at my life and circumstances through the lens of reason, I know when I can and can't visit religious communities. The great irony in working for the Church is that it is not easy to take more than a day or so away, for quite literally, my presence is required in nearly everything we do. There are times where it can be filled with volunteers or taken over briefly by a co-worker (at least in this parish),. but the reality is that I am not free to enter into discernment during the academic year. Of course, my own graduate studies has had something to do with this over the last three years, too.  Next school year will be a little different, but what is not being given to my own education is, really, going to translate into even MORE work and activities and crazy hours at the parish. That is the nature of working for the Church:  you give EVERYTHING whether you have it or not. 


That is the nature of God, deep calling into deep.


So, now, again,  I am facing another summer, a great gift of TIME, but also again, without the benefit of income.


Last year, about "now" when I met with my spiritual director and expressed my panic of oncoming financial disaster, he told me, "God is asking you to trust Him."  


He was right then, and I think, even more so now.  This year, though, the situation even more precarious:  It's not just the mortgage and credit for car repairs/maintenance & other random necessities I'm trying to pay, but now, both my undergrad loans (which have been subsidized in deferment while in school), and my UNsubsidized graduate loans, are all coming due. In fact, my grad loans have been due for the last few years, but have been in deferment in their unsubsidized state. Ergo: I owe more than my education actually costs.  


All I can see in front of me is disaster. And, having been in the job market even when it was good, even back when I was making decent money, well, I've NEVER had a job that will pay what I owe right now on a monthly basis.


And I have NEVER intended to be in a position to not pay my bills. I have always intended to pay them and have always worked hard to make sure I'm holding up my end. Thus far, I have excellent credit and I even keep an interior rolodex of money owed to people who helped me along the way, whether intended or not. I want to pay even that undocumented debt...and I WILL. Come hell and high water both at the same time, I was raised right, and I. Will. Pay. My. Debts. ESPECIALLY the personal ones.


Period. 


It doesn't make any logical sense, therefore, to state right now that I am giving this summer, again, to God.  


But I declare it so; this summer belongs to God. My Vocation is more important than anything else, because my salvation is dependent upon my Fiat to God in every circumstance. It is not that I effect my eternity, but a matter of operatio sequitor essse:  grace builds upon nature. 


A year ago I noted that we all work so hard for money, when really, all we really desire, all we really need, is actual TIME.  How many professionals have TIME to spend? Vacations are limited, overtime is premium pay, and in America, we tend to be obsessed with our jobs and what we put into them. 


I don't care anymore about Corporate America. I care to pay what I owe, but more than anything, I want to give to God what I owe HIM, and that is...time.  It is nearly impossible to find TIME for anything, but here it is, in my lap. I don't want to waste it. Live is not about making money, but about who we are in relation to God.


The other night, I was reminded that my life is not my own; I am called to lay it down, as are we all. 


Life to the Author of Life


Saturday evening, the vigil of  Mother's Day, after Mass I purchased three roses. One for one of my volunteers (who left before I could give it to her), one for my Mother whom I am not going to see for several weeks, and one to give the Blessed Mother.


I was almost in tears when I realized I'd purchased the rose too late for my volunteer, who has been so helpful to me this year, and really, ever since I began in my position.  Such a small token of respect, and I couldn't even give it to her! I considered leaving it for her, but realized by morning it would be wilted. I considered asking the people selling the roses (parishioners) to perhaps give it to her the next day, but realized in their busy-ness, it might be forgotten.


I wanted to give a rose to my mother, but as I wouldn't see her as usual for Mother's Day, I suddenly understood I had an option, one Mom would appreciate, one I would as well. After all....she raised me!


When I left work with the three roses, I drove to my home parish and went to the statues of the Immaculate Heart of Mary and Sacred Heart of Jesus. They aren't in the Adoration chapel, but in the main sanctuary of my parish, and I KNEW this was where I should make my offering. I laid the roses at the feet of the Immaculate Heart:  one in the name of my volunteer, one in my Mother's name, one...from me. Each was a different color, each, a different purpose. 


Two of those roses were in thanksgiving for lives lived according to God's plan.  One was in hope of a life yet to be fulfilled, but thanksgiving for the chance.


As I looked at those roses, I thought to myself, "I have just given God something HE created. How lame."


Then I understood a deeper lesson.  A lesson that brought home again the fact that we are not our own. We do not even possess ourselves. We "do what we do not want to do" in a constant battle against our passions, and therein is our own Passion; the Passion only revealed in light of the Cross.


I knew that it was one thing to hand a rose to Our Lord through His Mother, but it was merely symbolic of what I need to do: to lay down my own life. 


Roses die and enter the dumpster.

Souls grow and are united with the eternal life of God Himself. 


When I gave my rose this year, I did it as a symbol of my intention, my lived hope to not just lay down my life, but to enter into eternal holiness.  Not just in a symbol, but in reality.


I don't care if I have to live in a van down by the river:  my heart and soul belong to Jesus, and if that is true, so does my debt. Whatever happens....so be it.Jesus, I trust in thee. No matter what comes..I trust in Thee. Even if I have to live in a van down by the river.

The Present Moment

I fully admit I struggle hard to live in the present. Life is busy, and I'm always rushing on to the next task, and even at leisure my mind jumps around in consideration of what I'll be doing when not resting or playing. When I'm working on writing one paper for school, I can't help but think about the work I'm not doing in that moment on another paper. At work when I run to the chapel for a few moments to pray morning prayer, I find that I rush through the prayers. It never fails that I get there and remember that I have to finish this or that task, call this person, write a letter to that person, or start on the work required for an upcoming event. With apologies to Our Lord I leave the chapel and haven't even a single line from a psalm, or an antiphon to ponder for I can't seem to take the time to allow even HIM to speak to me!

Such is life. I know I haven't described anything unusual; we all experience this. (Well, most of us. I realize there are a few of you who have managed to master these tendencies!)

One of the things I admit I loved about my convent/monastery visits last summer was the ability to freely embrace the present moment. When I was in the chapel praying, there wasn't anything else I needed to be doing. When I was in the bakery doing dishes, I was not expected at any other task. There wasn't anyone I needed to call, and as I was there on a retreat, no one needed to call me.

As spiritually difficult as that retreat was, it was also very freeing in that I could finally be open to the spiritual difficulties! So much is lost when we're so busy and distracted that we can't take the time to have an intense relationship with God!

I'm a very time-oriented person, which is typical of most Americans. Our lives are run by the hours on the clock, which decentralizes the focus that should be upon God's will for us in each and every moment. In the convent, of course, their schedule is also very time-oriented, but within that time there was also an intensity of focus on the spiritual life that places God at the center. Although the Sisters did go from task to task, there was an orderliness to it that does not exist in most of our lives. 

I can't say I became fully accustomed to their schedule in only the seven days of my stay, and in fact, to my surprise I was exhausted at the end of that week! It wasn't that the labor was difficult; it is rather that I was living more intensely and more truly than in my so-called "real life". 

There is great beauty in religious life. There is order which doesn't detract from God, but places Him at the center. One learns to surrender one's own will, not to the hours on the clock, but the needs of others. When I had to leave prayer to go to the bakery, I wasn't doing this for myself, but to serve others who needed my assistance. That was God's will for me in that moment. The silence maintained throughout the day kept prayer at the forefront, and I knew that later, I would be returning to the chapel again to be in Our Lord's Presence. 

Perhaps it is not possible to fully translate such a way of life into the insanity of the world for most of us, but we can work on keeping the spirit of prayer, we can work on maintaining greater interior silence and constantly try to turn our interior focus to God no matter what we are doing. God is always in the present moment, even when we're busy and distracted.

I'm so thankful for what I learned on my discernment retreats last summer; they carried lessons I had read about, but couldn't practice as they can only be internalized through experience. When I become too distracted to pray, I admit a part of me longs to be back in that chapel without all the craziness of my life, but it is here that I recognize I am missing the point yet again. If God wanted me there, I would be there. For now, it is quite clear that He wants me right here, right where I am; He is right here, too. He knew these words before I wrote them, and He knows my deepest longings even though I can't yet understand them myself.

In all things, God's will be done.

"Surrender to God, and he will do everything for you. Alleluia!"

~ Antiphon 1 from the Office of Readings

Embrace

It's been a long rough road, and the burden has been anything but light.

A year ago I had a "revelation" that I might be called to be a Passionist Nun. I went to my spiritual director, wrote to the Passionists in Kentucky for info. They responded via email, I responded in turn, then heard nothing more.Several weeks passed, and at the time I was having some technical problems with my email, so I re-sent my response and apologized if duplicate, explaining the email situation.Still nothing.

I realized it was a slammed door, and that slammed door was a bit devastating to me.Things worked out, though, and I went on other visits to other communities who invited me to visit even without my request.It was a good experience, if a hard one, and I returned home with much to ponder.

Then last fall, I entered a pretty deep "depression", so conflicted within myself, so confused as to what God was asking, certain He was calling me to religious life...but I didn't want to go. It was horrible; I wasn't certain of anything, but all I knew was that I was rejecting God, and I didn't know why. I was bitter, I was angry (bitter and angry are my default settings, as it seems), and couldn't seem to climb out of the pit from Hell I'd fallen into.

Slowly, though, the clouds cleared, I came back out by God's grace and went back into "I want to do God's will no matter how much I think it sucks" mode, which, in that case meant remaining single...or religious life. Whatever. Two sides of the same awful coin.  (And yes, I saw all my options as awful. I still do.)

Over Christmas break when I finally had time to read and pray for"fun", the contemplative life again tugged at my heart and soul. I couldn't ignore it. I've since written to a couple contemplative communities, one of them being the Passionists in St. Louis Missouri.

To my surprise, I received a wonderful, welcoming and joyful letter in return. Enthused by their response I wrote my own long letter...and couldn't seem to actually send it. I went back and edited, printed it, stuff  it in an envelope, addressed it...and it still sits on my kitchen table. Two months later.

I feel rude. Very rude. But...I can't pop a stamp on that thing and send it. I CAN'T.

Their reaction was so blessedly different than the canned response I got from Kentucky followed by a non-response, and here I am, NOW the one giving the non-response.

Eventually I need to respond and explain my delay, and I know they will understand. After all, they're in the business of discernment and don't want anyone there who doesn't belong there. And really...I don't belong there.

Today I was at a morning retreat and spent an hour praying a Passionist devotion; a Chaplet of the Wounds of Christ. Over and over again. It was in that repetition that I came to realize that, well...God wants me to embrace the Cross, but not in that particular way. It's time to close the door on my end and make it stop swinging this time.  I'm letting go of this particular idea. I am not called to be a Passionist Nun, so that particular romance is over.  That does not mean I don't love meditating on the Passion and the Cross. It means only that I am not called to reside in that terrible and joyful shadow.

Wounded Bride

In June, God willing, I'll be awarded my Master's degree, finally, if I can actually make it through or over this brutal wall of the last few months. As it is, every time I open one of my books I go cross-eyed and my brain goes into some kind of a coma. I am assured this is normal for last-semester graduate students at any level and in any degree field.

Still, the closer we get to our end date, the more I ponder why I am receiving this degree. I don't know what it's for. I don't know how I'm going to pay the loans, especially given that no one will hire me but the Church...and the Church isn't interested in paying my graduate school, or my undergrad loans, for that matter. In fact, the Church isn't interested in paying my mortgage or my electric bill or anything else.

So why have I spent three years elevating my debt?  Why? It sure doesn't help me enter religious life if that's what I'm called to.  I laugh to think of all the times people have queried either to me or to others, or just randomly about the idea in general, "Is this just an escape from real life?"

HA!

I've never seen religious life as an "escape" as much as the secularists love to offer that idea. Having explored religious life, it is ANYTHING but an "escape"!  Rather, it is life lived with far more intensity and  purity than anyone can find in the so-called "real world."

Even as I sense an attraction to the contemplative life, I am surrounded by the open wounds of the Mystical Body of Christ, and I find myself doing "damage control" here and there. I recall my training as an EMT and remember the chapter on Triage. Some days, I think that's all I'm doing.

Being Catholic is like an eternal September 11 (which as you may recall, I remember quite poignantly due to my Job at the time.)  Or maybe it's like being an army medic on the battlefield of a war with no end, in every time in history, all at once. The only thing the Faithful can do is to respond to the horrific wounds resulting to people who are victims of society and culture, even as so-called "friendly fire" continues to shell the city, and buildings continue to fall, and looters continue to take what isn't theirs until a building finally lands on them...and we are called to address their crushed limbs as well.

A friend of mine (CK) once advanced the question of how we would react if the wounds of the souls around us were visible as physical wounds; how would that change our reaction to them?

I go a step further...how would that change our understanding of the intent of Vatican II?

It's the difference between putting leeches on a man who is in hypovolemic shock and bleeding out (hello United Nations One World Government) or offering our own veins to be sapped of our blood to give to the wounded through IV's and personal treatment according to need...and Salvation.  And bringing them home to care for them ourselves. Bringing them into OUR Family...the Church.

There isn't anything in between.

Missionary

The Church is nothing if she does not live up to our Mission to the world.  This is the responsibility of all of us.

So often, this Missionary focus of Vatican II is interpreted solely as a response to physical need, but in our culture, in our politics, in our health care, the real need isn't physical; it's spiritual.

America isn't imploding and falling apart at the seams because of poverty; we are imploding because of a spiritual need that is not being fulfilled.

We have to remember that the works of mercy are both physical and spiritual, and right now, we have an overabundance of people wreaking havoc trying address physical needs of the world while they themselves are impoverished in their own spiritual deprivation.  Even as they seek to help the poor, they are limited and they are failing because they cannot give what they do not have:  spiritual health.

While praying today, I begged God to tell me what He wants me to do. Why am I getting this degree? To go into a cloister?

As I read the letter from the Passionists again, one of the things that unsettled me the most, I think, was Sister's comment about my education; great fruit for contemplation, but maybe a source of frustration for those who do not actually care about theological education.

I can't see God educating me to send me to a dead end where it will not be used (as dear Sister seemed to hint;  they aren't interested in theological studies in that particular monastery.) God MUST want this degree to go to some use, to build up His kingdom. Otherwise I'm nothing more than a welfare kid holding an expensive piece of paper with no actual value to anyone but me...and if it's just for me, it's of no value whatsoever.

We never really possess anything, and nothing has any value if it is not shared with another.
We can't give what we don't have, and we don't have anything until we can give it away.

I no longer have any passion at all. Not for religious life, not for anything.

I am at an impasse; I know I am called to respond to the spiritual deprivation in our society. I know that the best and most noble response is the contemplative life. I know I am not called to the physical missionary fields, yet, I am missionary for as a Catholic my mission is to all who are lost...and the lost are EVERYWHERE. Not thousands of miles away.

More and more, I think that maybe I am called to visit another monastery, but only so it can be put aside; I think God calls me to maintain a presence in the world, using what I've learned in practical ways, for there is a lot to be done, and few hands willing to do it.

I stand this Lent, at the foot of the Cross, in my arrogance telling Jesus what I will and what I will not do and He bears me in patience while He bleeds and gasps for air.

Yet my own hands still hold rocks and sand and gravel as I say to Jesus, "I can't do any more than this. I have to hold on to this stuff."

Then Jesus Crucified opens His own hands with great effort, in excruciating pain, struggling against the muscle spasms, and tells me, "If I can do this...you can drop what you hold...and embrace the same cross and the same nails I release right now."

No....I don't have any passion for anything at all.  Instead, Jesus has brought me into His own....and He will direct the outcome.

Thank you, Jesus.

The Desire of Your Heart

This evening I was watching EWTN and Tim Staples revealed a portion of scripture I have often pondered:

"Take delight in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."  

~  Psalm 37:4

Tonight, Tim said that his own spiritual director used this Psalm and repeated it with another meaning: "The Lord will give you the desires of your heart. But FIRST the Lord will give you the desires of YOUR heart!"

Look at the Psalm as revealed in the New Testament:

 "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." 

 ~ Matthew 6:21

To take this in context is to circle back and look to the Lord for happiness, for the desires of our hearts.  It is clear that if we DELIGHT in the LORD He will give us the desires of our hearts.

Last summer when I visited convents and monasteries, I was asked, "What do YOU want?"

What they were really asking, in Biblical terms was, "What do you DELIGHT in? WHO do you delight in?"

I think back to my high school class in Humanities, having to memorize Shakespeare, a fun task for me which was a labor of love. I recall learning from Hamlet:

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how

infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and

admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like

a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! and yet,

to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me,

nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

We all DELIGHT in something or someONE.  We all at some point, have to come to a realization as to what this means.

When I consider that question, posed to me by nuns of two different communities, I always think of the above quote and that "Man delights not me...." even as I revel in the beauty of humanity. I simply realize that there is something more than some guy for me.  There is something greater. Not that I deserve anything greater, just that, well...Man doesn't satisfy me. He can't. In all his beauty, in all his action and apprehension, man delights not me.

So where is my heart?

That's the question, isn't it? 

I know what my treasure is not. I once sought my treasure in man, and found him lacking. He can't provide for me, and maybe he doesn't want to.

I have looked to my life, my career, and my future, and I have, in the past, worked hard for those endeavors. That's where my heart was. I have often looked to worldly things, and found them lacking.

St. Jerome, in his Commentary on Matthew said in Mt 6:21:  "This should be understood not only of money, but of all passions. The god of a glutton is his belly. Therefore, where his heart is set is precisely where also his treasure is found. Banquets are the treasure of the luxurious, partying of the lascivious, lust of a lover, 'Each one is conquered by that to which he is enslaved.'"

Funny St. Jerome would use that word:

Enslaved.

We are enslaved by our Passions, and to them we think we give our heart.

We "love" this or that, but do we really?  Do we give EVERYTHING for this or that triviality?

One of the phrases I learned when I lived in Mexico was this:  "?A que dedicadas?"  to mean, "To what do you dedicate yourself?"

It's a different question to we Americans. We are used to being asked what we DO as a definition of our being. But the Latino question is far different; it asks us not what we do for a living, but to what we dedicate ourselves. At heart the question asks us our Vocation:  it asks who we are as human beings.

Asked again, the question is:

 "Where is your heart?  What is the desire of your heart? To what do you dedicate yourself?"

We can do an entire examination of conscience on that question alone. The first answer is the one we need to take into the confessional for I guarantee you this: for the vast majority of us, if we are honest with ourselves and with God, the answer isn't HIM.

I am praying hard to answer the Sister's questions, which I recognize as the query of My Lord, as I kneel at  His feet. I am the woman begging for scraps and as He calls me a dog and tells me the food for which I beg is meant for His children instead, He doesn't break eye contact.  He is waiting for me not only to ask for my birthright, but to recognize, in humility, that the desire of my heart isn't to eat with the dogs....but beyond the angels.He asks me, at heart, to recognize that I am the Prodigal Daughter. I don't see how anyone can divorce this passage from that of the Prodigal Son, for they are one and the same.

Still He waits, for I can't see beyond the kibble and ascertain the true desire of my heart. I ask for mere scraps when He wills that I ask for Himself, for His Body and Blood, for complete union and my place in His Kingdom as His Daughter.  I'm in the dogdish and can't seem to wade out of it.

What is the desire of my heart?  In what do I delight? Where is my treasure?

There is the key that unlocks either my prison...or my Vocation.

Oprah, Religious Life, and REAL LIFE

I couldn't watch Oprah ** the other day when she hosted the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist on her show. I was busy at work, living my own life of celibacy, chastity, and, well....obedience, too...if not vowed.

Yes, obedience is the most difficult. Even when one is not vowed.

Although I've only seen a few clips it seems to me that Lisa Ling's time in the convent changed her and I am grateful for her respect, and possibly, friendship with these women. I hope she stays in touch with the Sisters.

From what I've heard of Oprah herself, she was focused on, predictably,  sex and materialism. That's not such a bad thing, for she is a representative of the world, not God. How can we be critical of her questions or her attitude?  Haven't we, as Catholics, enabled and even encouraged such a pluralism?  Isn't it our job as the faithful to engage the needs of this world, and confront head-on what is most contrary to human dignity?

We need to give Oprah credit for this segment, for her willingness to open her show and her heart to the daughters of Dominic and Brides of Christ in their charism, to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ in what is otherwise a land hostile to everything we believe and hold dear.

Oprah should be complimented.

We as Catholics should WRITE to her and reveal our gratitude for her respect for our dear Sisters, our Spiritual Mothers (a title which should be emphasized), for her hospitality and respect not just for the Sisters, but for our very Faith.

In the blogosphere we are so quick to criticize and condemn, but are we ready and willing to compliment?

Do so now.  Please.

Personal Experience

Last summer, as many of my readers know, I visited three religious communities. One active, like the Dominicans of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, but the others were contemplative or what we call cloistered.

The lifestyles are very different, but the theology...the same. The reality of the lived life is incredible, but not so much a sacrifice as an EXCHANGE. It is, in the words of Fr. Corapi, an exchange for goods that are higher for those that are lower.  It is blackberries and ipods and, with Oprah's obsession, sex, in comparison to the incomparable Lord of Life, marriage to HIM who saves us and gives us all that we NEED versus the random inconsequentials we may want.

The decision is obvious, and as some observed, at the end of the segment, Oprah, who had begun nearly condescending, ended up nearly envying the dear Sisters.

It IS a beautiful life of incredible freedom, and I can at least attest to that!

We all have obligations in our lives. We all must get up at a certain hour and go on with our lives. Even if we don't like the hour, we do it for our careers, don't we?   We do it for SOME reason, and we don't get to dictate that hour from the moment we accept employment, or motherhood or fatherhood or any regular obligation.

But the Sisters accept something more. They agree to the hour of rising, they agree to the life, and in the end, they agree to a marriage to Christ Himself.

As a visitor, I witnessed and in some degree, became a part of this beauty. I saw and experienced, every day,  the lived joy of the Sisters.

It is a life of sacrifice amongst the joy, for there is not a single faithful Religious Sister who does not know the Sorrows of Mary or union with our Crucified Lord.

One Sister expressed to me, during her time there, the cost of her sacrifice. She loved, as I did, the time in prayer in the chapel. Yet at the moment that she was deeply entering into prayer, the time or the bell itself would be calling her to something else. It became her greatest sacrifice to LEAVE Jesus in order to fulfill His will as His spouse!

I experienced some of this, too.  During my retreat I was given a schedule and even when the Sister to whom I was entrusted told me I could spend more time in the chapel, I knew that I had certain duties while there and must attend to them. It seemed that at the greatest point of prayer, it was time to head back to the bakery, or perhaps some other thing, breaking that prayer in order to become the prayer itself in a way I could not understand. I found that I must break even that attachment to my own will, a moment that seemed to be a gift from God, in order to fulfill obedience to a community to which I was not vowed, but deserved my respect in form of conformity to their own vows.

The life of a Religious, a Nun, a Sister,  is a life of sacrifice that reveals the reality of contemplative prayer and loving service which comes to a soul only through obedience and God's own timing.  None can be open to infused prayer without the GRACE of Christ who prepares that soul through the inconvenience of obedience even when that obedience SEEMS to interrupt the deepest moments of communion with God.

It seems a dichotomy to even the most faithful, and it seems an absurdity to the children of this world, who are prudent only in things of this world.

I am glad when the Children of this world are willing to recognize the Children of Light, and even, at the end of their skepticism, find that they are lacking. It is a sign of God's grace.

I do not know to which Vocation I am called, but I do also, like Oprah, continue to seek. So many ridicule her, but I don't have it within me to do the same. I am just as lost, and I have been even MORE lost than she. Perhaps I am so even now.

I thank her publicly for her willingness to host the Sisters, and to treat them, and therefore us all,  so respectfully. In a world, with a popular Media so willing to ridicule all that we believe, all that we live for, we should honor those who reveal even the least bit of true charity. Oprah and Ling have done so.

Thank you, Ms. Winfrey. Thank you, Ms. Ling.  Thank you for your respect, for your openness to our beliefs, our faith, and our Spiritual Mothers.  Thank you.


** Aggie Catholics link to the 4 segments currently available for the Oprah Winfrey/Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist 

Vigils

When I was a little girl, sometimes Daddy would work late or have meetings or other engagements, so he wouldn't be home in the evenings with us.  As a "Daddy's Girl", I suffered a great deal of deprivation and one night I happened to be awake when he came home.  Of course I ran to him and threw myself into his arms, joyful in his return!  Although it was so late and I should be in bed, he invited me to join him for a little snack before he turned in.  Mom resigned herself to this and let me stay up with him, then they both packed me off  happily (and well fed) back to bed.

This became a little routine while Dad was in that particular cycle. I would wake up, either hear the door open when Dad came in, or hear Mom and Dad talking, and rise to join Dad in a midnight snack.  It was those nights that I learned about Sardines on Saltine crackers (something I was hesitant to try but he won me over),  herring (which I hated then but love now) and other apparently-Swedish delicacies he had grown to love and wanted me to as well.  These were special nights of bonding, and I would do ANYTHING to be present with him.  We would talk about all sorts of things; what I did that day, what he did, interesting little insights that can only take place between a father and a toddler daughter, which everyone wishes were written down somewhere for comic relief.  The snacks didn't really matter to me. What DID matter was being with Dad in those lonely hours of the night, and it was obvious that he delighted in my presence as much as I delighted in his, if for different reasons.  

Midnight Vigils in the Cloister

Many cloistered contemplative communities rise at some point in the middle of the night to pray. For some it is Midnight, others it is 2:00 am, others rise for the day at 3 am and begin prayer at 3:30, or rise at 4 to pray at 4:30.

When I first began discerning the Cistercians, I noted that they began their day at what I thought to be an ungodly hour, and was certain I was insane for even considering it! I HATE getting up in the morning, but..to rise at 3:30 or 4?  NO WAY!  

Even now as I look at cloistered communities and see that they rise at midnight or 2 am, I think to myself..."Can I REALLY do that? Can I REALLY leave maybe the deepest sleep of my night and stumble to the chapel to pray..and actually be able to return to bed to sleep for a couple more  hours?  REALLY?"

I've been praying about this, and today God reminded me of my childhood midnight vigils, waiting for Dad to come home, or waking upon his arrival, then going to meet him.  I went with childish wonder and enthusiasm, motivated by the purity of love.

In the midst of those memories, I heard Jesus ask me today, "Wouldn't you do that for Me?"

It's true. If I could so enthusiastically rush to greet my Dad, why wouldn't I, now, as an adult, rush to greet our beloved Father in the silence of the night?  Why would my childish enthusiasm be lacking, why does it HAVE to be as an adult?  Isn't our Creator far greater than our parents?  Do I not love Jesus at LEAST as much as I loved my Dad back then?

I didn't rush to greet my Daddy for the food we shared, but only to be in his presence. Any time away from him was a time of deprivation.

So it is with God.  If we have not God in our lives, we have nothing at all.

Humble as a Child

"Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."   (Mt 18: 3-4)

We MUST become as little children in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, and I see now that what is required to rise at Midnight is a simple, childlike love of God and neighbor.  The nuns and monks do not rise to pray for themselves, but out of love for God and to pray for the needs of the world. For the conversion of sinners, for those who are suffering, in thanksgiving for those whose prayers have been answered...for those who can't or refuse to pray for themselves.

If I could rise, as a child, depriving myself of the warm comfort of my bed in order to spend time with my earthly father, how much more should I, as an adult, be willing to leave that same comfort to be present with God our Father?

Not only is it an act of love, but it is an act of humility, in response to a call that we cannot understand or follow at a merely natural level.  To rise for prayer, to enter into Our Father's presence in the dead of the night is an act of death to oneself and one's own desires at a very fundamental level.

Tonight, my friends, when you awake in the small hours, when you finish praying for Haiti, remember the holy souls in cloisters and monasteries and convents who rise to pray for YOU, each and every night, have done so for thousands of years and will continue to do so until the end of time.

Even they don't pray Vigils alone.

Enclosure

I started a post earlier this evening, intending to write about the Call to contemplative life.

But I can't complete it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

For the last couple weeks, I have been pondering this a great deal and have been looking at contemplative communities, even some I "shunned" in the past.  Where they were "uninteresting" in the past, now they have taken on a new light, and in seriously taking a look at them, I find I am also looking deep into myself:  who I am, who I have always been....and that mysterious person God may be calling me to be, if only I would have the courage to follow Him.

For now, suffice to say I have much to ponder, I am treading slowly, even in my deep, deep weariness and even deeper trepidation.  All I know is that I have to continue upon this particular path for I cannot turn away.  As tired as I am of discernment, I am even more weary of the world that holds absolutely nothing for me.

I do not know where my true happiness lies, nor do even I know the truest desires of my heart; but if I don't follow my Lord, I will never find that answer. In the end, I am not important and I am not seeking my own glory...but His.

And so I follow in His bloody footsteps, adding my blood to His own as I tread, knowing it is a very long ways to Calvary, for I am only an infant. Even now...an infant, nothing more.  But He...Jesus...is everything. He is my past, my present, and...God willing in His Great Mercy...my eternity.

I want nothing more. And I have nothing more to say.
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Epiphany

Psalmody
Ant. 1  When will I come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?

Even when I think the journey is over, I find that God has not given up on me.  Even when I've long given up on myself, God sends messengers in the form of angels, homilies, friends and prayer to call me again to Himself, to rouse me to battle on and seek Him in my Vocation...whatever it is.

I wrote only a few days ago that I'm certain I am NOT called to religious life, and the last time I met with my SD, he commented that I seemed at peace with the idea.  I hesitated, though, in responding.

No, I'm not totally at peace with that idea. I know that there is something more, and in the end, I told him I think I'm just in some strange limbo. Neither here nor there, just....existing. Trying to focus on what I know and needing to work on holiness in the present moment.

The problem is that I'm so weary from this journey. I'm so tired of seeking that I'm ready to lie down and go to sleep, accept where I am and just go on from there. I'm ready to accept that I'll be single forever, and that my Vocation is one of perpetual pilgrimage, wondering if I should take private vows to that effect and be done with it.

This weekend, though, we suffered experienced the transferred Solemnity of the Epiphany, and at my home parish, the Pastor gave an incredible homily about the Magi, about their journey and about how we should learn from them. The journey is hard, but their eyes were on the goal.  Father called us all to keep our eyes on the goal, and not to give up just because it seems at times that the journey never ends. He cited weariness, he cited trials and difficulties, delays and roadblocks. And then he called us all onward, to continue that journey because to find Christ under the star, to adore Him, is the goal of us all for eternity. He waits for us, He awaits our gifts, not just of what is needed...but the free gift of ourselves.

As Father spoke, nearly every word cut right through me. He didn't know I was there. He wasn't speaking to me or intending to be speaking in terms of Vocation.  Yet...that's what he was doing.  As I listened to his homily, I couldn't help but see the parallels between the journeying Magi and my own search, the search that seems to go on into eternity. First waiting, and then, upon recognition of the star, that there really IS a goal, to travel the long and dangerous route to get there.

No, Father wasn't talking to me personally...but the Holy Spirit was, and He isn't one to leave me alone.  Later that day I saw that another priest had delivered the same message, although a bit more specific (I'm hoping he posts the text; all I have is an allusion to it.)

I left Mass a bit shaken, realizing it ISN'T over, God HASN'T forgotten about me, and hasn't abandoned me.

At that same Mass I pondered Marriage again, wondering if I was wrong. All I know is that the Single life isn't fulfilling. I need something more, am called to something more and the way I'm living it now isn't "it".  Yes, I've spoken of being single as a Vocation, and it can be...when it is committed and consecrated in some way. For now I'm still floating. As I've called myself before, I'm a dangling participle, hanging out with a question mark.

I thought about a guy I met recently, and even as I considered wanting to know him better, I thought, and tried to push it away,  "But I want to belong to Jesus."

During Mass on Sunday, during the Offertory, I thought about Marriage, about that guy and considered yet again that I KNOW I am not called to marriage.  To be clear, I LOVE men, I think men are great, I'm attracted to men and sometimes lose about 100 IQ points in their presence, but I have absolutely no desire to have children and don't feel a bit "pushed" by the "biological clock" so many women cite.  I cannot see myself as a mother, I cannot see myself raising children, I cannot see myself married even without children. The very idea is preposterous to me.

Every time I read scripture, praying the psalms of the  Liturgy of the Hours I realize I want God alone. I want to come to the end of this journey, and I want Him to be waiting at the end of it.

If I picture my wedding, in my mind's eye I don't see a groom and a fitted gold ring, but I see the Cross, I see a priest, and I see a ring that is a crown of thorns.  I see the eternal wedding, of the Lamb and the Church and I know that nothing but God will ever satisfy me.  I want to die to the world in order to die in sacrifice and rise with my Beloved, I want to do as His Mother commanded at the Wedding at Cana:   everything He tells me. And I want to spend my life in Adoration of Him, for why would ANYONE ever want to be out of His sight?

This morning I knelt before a Nativity in a church to pray Morning Prayer, contemplating the Incarnation, the wood of the cradle and the wood of the Cross, the Adoration of the Magi...and death to myself.

Ant. 1  When will I come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?

Psalm 42

Longing for the Lord's presence in his Temple

Let all who thirst come; let all who desire it, drink from the life-giving water (Revelation 22:17).

Like the deer that yearns

for running streams,

so my souls is yearning

for you, my God

My soul is thirsting for God,

the God of my life;

when can I enter and see

the face of God?

My tears have become my bread,

by night, by day,

as I hear it said all the day long:

"Where is your God?"

These things will I remember 

as I pour out my soul....

Why are you cast down, my soul,

why groan within me?

Hope in God; I will praise him still

my savior and my God.

My soul is cast down within me

as I think of you...

Deep is calling on deep,

in the roar of waters:

your torrents and all your waves

swept over me.

By day the Lord will send  

his loving kindness;

by night I will sing to him

prais the God of my life.

I will say to God, my rock:

"Why have you forgotten me?

Why do I go mourning

oppressed by the foe?"

Why are you cast down, my soul,

why groan within me?

Hope in God; I will praise him still

my savior and my God.

Ant. When will I come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?

 Tonight, during Evening Prayer, I prayed on:

Ant. 2.  The Bridegroom is here; go out and welcome him.

Psalm 45, II

Listen O daughter, give ear to my words:

forget your own people and your father's house.

So will the king desire your beauty:

he is your lord, pay homage to him.

The daughter of the king is clothed with splendor,

her robes embroidered with pearls set in gold.

She is led to the king with her maiden companions.

They are escorted amid gladness and joy;

they pass within the palace of the king.

Sons shall be yours in place of your fathers:

you will make them princes over all the earth...

Ant.  The Bridegroom is here; go out and welcome him.

Canticle:  Ephesians 1:3-10

God our Savior

Praised be the God and Father

of our Lord Jesus Christ

who has bestowed on us in Christ

every spiritual blessing in the heavens.

God chose us in him

before the world began

to be holy 

and blameless in his sight.

He predestined us

to be his adopted sons through Jesus Christ,

such was his will and pleasure,

that all might praise the glorious favor

he has bestowed on us in his beloved. 

I have spent so much time and energy running away from Him.  I don't know my Vocation, I can't say that I am being called by Him to be His Bride, yet I likewise cannot rest where I am, for my journey is not complete.  Like the Magi I must continue on this quest, recognizing the light of Christ and knowing I have a choice:  to follow it or to walk away.

He won't let me walk away. He won't let me forget, He won't leave me in "peace"...

Through His persistence, and the unwitting encouragement of my Pastor,  I choose to follow and see where that star of Bethlehem leads....
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Holy Spirit Sister in Adoration photo source