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 

A Couple Observations

Love/Hate

Have you ever noticed that the things that bug you MOST about other people are also those things that are most endearing? A co-worker and I discussed this today. We have another co-worker who has certain traits that drive us CRAZY, yet when she is absent, we chuckle over them and I realized today that if she DIDN'T do those things...she wouldn't be, well....her! She wouldn't be who she is.

This made me realize that if she left, the things I would remember most fondly about her would be the stuff that drives me crazy now.

When I think back to old friendships, loved ones who have left for eternity, I remember their crazy quirks for those are the things that remain ingrained in my memory, and I thank God for giving them a facet of their personality that will ensure they will never be forgotten.

Priestly Vocations

I keep hearing this crazy myth that young men aren't interested in the priesthood anymore. Have you heard this myth, too?

What amazes me is that, well...it simply isn't true. Part of my job is to assist with interviewing candidates for Confirmation, and as part of that we discuss vocational discernment. Nearly every young man I have interviewed has expressed an interest in the priesthood, albeit some are more serious than others. I always encourage them to pursue where God is calling them and I speak positively about the seminary and the priesthood in general. I also point out to them, if they seem hesitant, that the seminary is just a beginning and that God will lead them. I also speak positively of marriage, of course.

It's always a short conversation and once it's done, I don't return to it, never wanting to pressure anyone. But I find most girls have looked into or think they would consider religious life, or would like more information about it, although the difference for them is that they leave it at "consideration." Overwhelmingly most girls believe they are called to marriage and if pressed to make a decision "now", they would say marriage. Why? They don't know enough about religious life. They don't know any Sisters although they think it's interesting.

There is no "Vocations Crisis".

Vocations are alive and well...the crisis is in the fact we have dropped the ball and haven't presented to our young people all of their options.

It is something we're working on in my place of employment, and if these kids being interviewed are honest, well, it is working. Seeds are being planted. We are doing a lot to promote the priesthood, but it's an uphill battle to promote religious life...simply because it isn't very visible. We can only do so much. A speaker here and there isn't sufficient.

Priests are witnesses by their very presence, immediately identifiable. We don't have Brothers and Sisters running around in habits to provide that same kind of witness. (We don't have any Sisters and Brothers WITHOUT habits running around here, either.) Even with the things we do to expose the kids to religious life, well, if it's not visible in the Church as a whole (in their experience) then it will never be enough to just talk about it on one evening of their life.

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We have to do more.

Please Don't Break My Heart

I never thought I'd write about this particular topic, but in speaking with a friend tonight, someone discerning the priesthood, I realized that it's not something that belongs to me alone. He revealed he has the same deep fear as I, and together, we think that others experience the same thing.

It is because of this that I've decided to put this "out there" in hopes that it offers some comfort to someone, just so that you, and maybe we all, can realize we're not alone.

I watch the reasons why people come across my blog, and I can't forget the day someone found it by typing in:

"Why is vocational discernment so difficult?"

I don't know who asked the question, or why, or from what perspective, whether from honest seeking from their own agony and looking for help, or from a standpoint of derision. After all, our hugely secularized world thinks it's just a "job" to enter religious life, and they speak of it in those terms. They don't ask the deeper questions, looking only at utility, at functionality, but never theology, eternity or conversion of heart and soul. The questions of the world don't address the whole person, but only look at the human being as a convenient (or inconvenient) machine to be used and tossed aside.

Those who are truly discerning their Vocation are looking deeply into God and into themselves, trying to find out not "who they are" but rather, the very reason God called them into existence. They are looking for their true mission in life, their very BEING, realizing that, fundamentally, they are Called to something that long transcends this world and their very lives.

Discernment is a process by which a person bonds closely with Our Lord and with the entire Church, past present and future, and in so doing, sees far more than he ever realized possible. It is awe-inspiring, it is is painful, for they come face-to-face with themselves and the questions that are most fearful to address. The questions most people want to avoid...and do avoid. That's why it's so painful. Not just because of the questions and resulting discovery of Truth, but because that Truth is rejected, not only within themselves as they try to flee that purifying light of conscience, but because the secular world has no sanctuary...and finds need only to attack, never to accept.

That's why it's so difficult. That, and far more.

Broken

I've never spoken or written of this before, and find it hard to do so now. But maybe it's important.

This summer, it was only through God's grace and some massively generous souls that I was finally able to visit some religious communities. I wanted to go, I was ready to go, and spiritually prepared. I had a lot of support from all sides, even my family. They weren't thrilled about the distance, but understood I needed to go.

I won't lie; I was apprehensive about this very new experience, and even more so as the plane drew closer to the East Coast. As it landed and we taxied towards the gate, I was nearly in tears as my most heartfelt prayer finally came to the surface and I let it come, praying it with my entire being: "Jesus, please don't break my heart."

There it was.

Jesus, please don't break my heart.

My heart has been broken enough. I can't take any more. I'm tired of being lost, I'm tired of being alone, I can't keep doing this. I'm weary from the battle, I have scars that are still bleeding, and if I take another hit, I fear I will fall and never rise again.

I prayed this, knowing the battle wasn't over. Hoping maybe I'd find my way home on this trip, realizing it's NEVER been that easy and I wasn't about to put my trust in that idea. Praying for strength to continue, no matter what.

There was nothing else to do; from that point forward, I was no longer in control, so I offered myself completely to Jesus, stripped before Him, laying everything bare, sharing my deepest, deepest prayer: Don't break my heart. Beat me, kill me, abandon me, I don't care. But don't break my heart. Not that. Break everything else, but don't reject me. I can't take it. Please.

Don't break my heart.

I knew that I'd broken His Most Sacred Heart so many times, and that my prayer was presumptive. How DARE I say such a thing to the One who was Crucified...for me? But love reveals itself in all its facets, and it is only by Our Lord's Grace that I was able to allow that very very deep longing to come to the surface, and to plead it before His throne...right there in that little tin can of an airplane.

There are many who will understand this prayer; there are many who won't. There are many who will misinterpret it to mean something it does not, and so I must define it as clearly as I can, although it will STILL be insufficient.

My prayer was one of Trust.

It was not that I was asking that THIS community be the RIGHT one. I was not arriving out of expectation of it being "perfect." I was asking for the very presence and blessing of Christ in my visit. I was asking to be shown the way to Him, to what He was calling me to be.

I didn't know if I was called to religious life or something else, and I didn't think that a discovery of NOT being called to religious life would be a bad thing. At the time I thought it WAS my calling and of course that's why I was there.

In my heart of hearts, though, as they say, I was simply asking that Our Lord not reject me, no matter what happened. I was begging for His presence and guidance wherever all of this would lead, for His comfort, and learning to trust that I truly WASN'T alone.

Jesus did answer my prayer.

It was, as I have written, an agonizing week and I expected it to be so. I spent a lot of time searching the depths of my soul and my relationship with Our Lord, trying to die to myself in order to live for Him. The daily routine alone demanded this. It made me think of prison and purgatory as I gave up my own will and freedom to willingly live in accordance with the structure of the convent. I even remained obedient to the boundaries given to the Sisters, those that did not bind me as a visitor. I could have left at any time, called a cab, asked to be taken to the airport, walked up the hill from the convent to investigate a berry bush, etc. And there were a couple days which, I admit, I desired only to be heading home. I couldn't wait to get "home."

But where was "home", really? Home isn't were the "heart" is, for the heart is so often wrong. Home is where God is...and that's what I was trying to figure out. How to get to Him, in spite of my broken, distorted heart that does not know love.

Jesus was made manifest, though, through His Brides, none of whom knew my agitated state and who would not have changed their demeanor if they had.

At that convent, I met some wonderful Sisters who received me enthusiastically and made me feel like family. They let me know that there was a place there for me, room in God's mansion. Many rooms. I was advised not to be afraid to answer God's Call, and every need I had was met, even those that were unexpected and forced me to depend on their own charity.

My life is better because of that week, because of that experience and knowing those dear Sisters. I can't imagine my life now without them. It was a great privilege to be one of them, even though I was apart from them. I was on the outside looking in yet experiencing all the warmth and joy of that life so many never see or experience.

But that wasn't the end. I can say the same about each visit this summer. Each was a direct encounter with God, answering my most heartfelt plea, all from different angles. I loved each convent or monastery individually, and loved Christ more because of them.

In each was His response to that little prayer of mine, asking Him not to break my heart.

"I didn't call you here to break your heart. Please don't break Mine."

I knew Jesus was with me, wanted me there, and spoke through His dear Brides. They wanted me there, too. Each invited me to deeply drink of God's Love, and, without pressure, to discern whether I was called to their life or some other.

It was clear that Our Lord was speaking to me, not as Master to Slave, but as a beloved daughter, as a possible spouse...to Him...or someone. It was clear, ultimately that I simply didn't have the foundation to accept or reject anything. I was there to meet Jesus, to speak intimately with Him, and to learn to let Him be the guide, even if it made no sense to me.

Truly....NONE of this makes sense to me.

If I were in charge, I'd just choose somewhere and go, on my own time and when I chose.

Instead, God has given me impediments or opened doors as HE has chosen. HE has chosen my closest friends, HE has chosen my circumstances. He has made connections, drawn lines, and has asked me to follow. He has asked me to give up the wheel and let Him drive. Not because I can't, but because without headlights, He can see so much more clearly than I.

Jesus is asking me to trust.

It is only in trusting that I can give Him my heart. If I hold on to it, broken, it will NEVER be healed, I will never be made whole. If I don't let Jesus take my heart into His own hands...I will die.

My prayer, that day on the tarmac, was my offering. I gave Jesus my heart, entrusted it to Him with my breathless, tearful words: You can have it...just don't break it. I want my life to be yours. I want to live ONLY through YOU and in You.

I gave everything to Jesus in that moment, knowing that only He and I would understand that offering.

I still don't know what God is calling me to be. It's a constant battle not to give up. It's a constant battle to just NOT jump to a random decision among a plethora of good decisions...and some bad ones.

There is only ONE thing that I can say with certainty, and that is that Our Lord has not left me alone. He has not broken my heart. He has not rejected me, no matter how much I deserve it in every moment.

We who are discerning, in the depths of our hearts, we know we're broken. We are seeking God with everything we have, laying ourselves upon the altar and asking to enter into His sacrifice in any way He chooses. Deeply we fear that He will reject us, just as the world has and other people have, many times over. Not a single one of us has ever NOT experienced rejection of some sort.

The only thing I know now is that God is in charge, I've turned EVERYTHING over to Him, and He has promised that He will never reject me and will never break my heart.

Thank you, Jesus. I trust in Thee.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I'm back.

And I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life. I can't think anymore, I can't even pray anymore. I have absoutely nothing LEFT.

A week ago Wednesday a friend got up early to make sure I was at the airport on time (I think I got there at 6 am) and after getting into 3 wrong lines in a very unexpectedly crowded airport before finally finding the right one, (the right line, I mean) I somehow managed to get my boarding pass, get my bags tagged, and somehow managed to get through security.

Our plan arrived in Connecticut early, so I had my baggage and was arranging it a bit more to my liking when Sister arrived to bring me to the convent, about an hour away. Once there, I was taken to one of the parlors where one of the foundresses of the community met me, as did the Sisters I know. And, just like in Mexico, the first thing they did was feed me!

The General Superior was not available to meet me, but apparently said that she would do so later. As it was, I met her quite impromptu after evening prayer and on my last day there sat down in the parlor with her for almost an hour. But that first afternoon and evening are a bit of a blur to me. Sr. J. gave me the grand tour of the convent, chapel, and grounds, and at some point we brought my baggage upstairs. I met the Novice Director and the Sister I was assigned to for the week, changed into a skirt for chapel, and....was immediately plunged into religious life.

I was at the convent for a week, nearly, then on Wednesday morning, Sr. J. drove me to the train station, where I actually saw the Atlantic for the first time in my life. The ride to New Jersey was about 3 hours, the number of hours being 3, no more, no less.

Never mind the fact I was in New York for the first time, too, and what was I subject to? A grand tour of the underground tunnels, where we waited for about 30 minutes. No doubt because probably not even the most seasoned of travelers can weave their way through Penn Station in less time.

Finally we headed for Newark. When checking my ticket as she passed through, the agent happened to comment, "Oh, that's next". (I must have looked very obviously confused!)

Dang. You can take a girl out of the midwest but you can't take the small town out of her no matter how long she's lived in an urban setting!

Anyway, thank God she said something because there was NO announcement! About five minutes after we left New York, the train stopped again, seemingly randomly. I saw no signage, but decided that since the train was stopping, by logic and geography it MUST be Newark. So I wrestled my luggage through the narrow passage, made sure (twice!) I was disembarking in the correct part of the world, and got off the train. Still saw nothing indicating where I was. There was a sign pointing to the "Station", but the only staircases came up. Whaaa..?

Well, there was a religious sister also trying to find the mysterious place called the "Station" and unable to find any solid directions. We happened to converge at the same point. So we decided to be lost together because that was easier than wandering around all by ourselves.

When we found our way down the stairway into an area that looked much more like an urban mall than it did a train station, I learned that she was a Franciscan Sister of the Martyr St. George, and was out there as one of the people doing Apostolic Visitations.

All I could say was, "God bless you!"

We made our way outside and she had seen the vehicle I was looking for, although it had passed by. It was a bit before I found Dominican Sr. M., so I stood out on the curb in Newark NJ, very conscious of the fact that I looked like a midwestern girl fresh off the farm. Really not a good thing in a city like Newark NJ.

I had only that afternoon and yesterday with the Dominicans, but lots of homework has been given to me! This morning Sr. M. dropped me off at the airport that sent off ill fated United 93 in 2001, but in spite of that I still made it home.

So here I sit, my dog curled up on the rug next to me, my laundry in piles waiting to be done...

Can I have a vacation to recover from the last 10 days of my life?

For those who want to know all the hairy details...don't hold your breath. This has been a very intense couple of weeks, I have a lot to think and pray about, and the vast majority will never be published on the blog. All I intend to give is incidental details. The rest remains between the Lord and myself...and those few people in my life in the category that gives them the privilege of knowing a bit more.

Right now, I'm just happy to be back home. Please don't ask me any questions or offer any advice or try to surmise what's going on. Even though much of my blog is, in a sense, an "open book", there is much I keep to myself. Especially now it's important that I maintain a certain silence; not because I've been told to do so, but because I want to, I need to, and it's proper.

There will be more posts on my practical experience, but...not tonight.

Thank you all for your prayers and I humbly ask that you continue to pray for me. You were all also in my prayers in all the hours I spent in the chapel in the last ten days.

May God reward you.

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Prayer and Mystery

The Convent really isn't so mysterious as you might think, although it is a place shrouded in prayer and lit up with joy.

A year ago, I was invited by the Sisters to come visit them and pray Vespers with them in their convent near an inner-city parish. It was a wonderful evening, my first exposure to the Liturgy of the Hours, and a step in discernment towards religious life.

At the time, I wasn't seriously discerning, but rather, just recognizing I had to take a step and that prayer and dinner was maybe a small thing, but something I needed to do.

The Sisters and I have stayed in contact, and the Vocation Director of the community also has been in contact with me throughout the last year. I've had many invitations to head East to visit them, but haven't had the funds. Plane tickets aren't on the budget for parish employees. In fact...most of our own personal bills aren't in the budget. (Ask anyone who works for the Church...)

The Mysterious Convent

A year ago, I wasn't allowed into the locked area of the convent, but could only go as far as the parlor. These Sisters are in a very large building which, I'm guessing in the past housed a great many sisters.

The convent is next to a beautiful German Baroque church, adjoins the original parish school, and is home to a few offices and two religious communities. One community is housed on the first floor, while the Sisters I visited are on the second. Both communities share the convent chapel and divide their prayer times as their communities have different traditions and different prayers/devotions specific to their communities and charisms, although both pray the same version of the Liturgy of the Hours.

As I understand it, although the Sisters used to be obliged to go to the church for Mass each day, now, at least a few times per week, there is a priest available to come to the convent chapel to offer Mass for the Sisters, and, I imagine, anyone else who would care to attend as the chapel is in a public area.

I arrived around 4:40 pm, having been told Vespers would begin at 5 with the rosary and I should arrive any time after 4:30. I rang the bell and was surprised when a lay man answered the door with a quick, "Yes, can I help you?"

The last time I was there a Sister from the first floor had answered the door! I realized quickly as he admitted me that he was a parish employee just finishing his work for the day.

It was wonderful to greet the Sisters in their home again and take my own Breviary and rosary to the chapel in preparation for Vespers.

The chapel has several pews, and each Sister (4 of them in that convent) has an assigned spot with a little basket containing her breviary and some other prayer books. Last year when I was there, the Sister told me to disregard many of the times she was standing or sitting, and so it was necessary to be cued when it was my turn to rise, kneel, or be seated.

These Sisters, like others, carry a large rosary which is not used to pray during Vespers, although they do grasp it or its crucifix at various other times. Like me, they had regular rosaries, but began the rosary, after the Creed, with an invocation of the Trinity on each of the 3 Hail Mary beads. (Which reminded me a year ago, as it did last night, of my Trinitarian friend!)

There was some confusion, on my part, during the LOH, as one Sister and I had set up our books to pray the Common of Martyrs. As it turned out, we prayed the regular Evening Prayer of the day, and not the psalms we'd anticipated. Apparently this is set by the Superior (of the options of the day), but the Sister next to me helped me find my place with this switch. I did still have a marker there, but, having been lost for a few moments, needed my place to be pointed out to me!

I must remember to ask them more about how they decide which of the LOH options they pray on Feast Days.

After Vespers, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the Sisters maintain silence outside of meals and recreation, which means they speak only when charity demands. Dinner is usually served immediately at 6 pm. As Vespers ended at 5:30, the Sister responsible for dinner headed to the kitchen to finish, another Sister reposed the Blessed Sacrament, candles, etc., and when a bell rang, we rose to go to the kitchen. The Superior remained to pray until 6, and it's entirely likely she didn' t hear the bell, so it was rung again at 6 for her, more loudly.

I waited, with the Sisters, around the little table in the convent, this time admitted past the locked door. It had been decided that we would eat in the recreation room while watching a movie; Padre Pio, Man of Mystery. The Sisters know my connection to Padre Pio and have one themselves, and of course...love the movie!

We loaded our plates and walked down the hallway, past several cells, many used for storage or designated for a particular purpose, indicated by the signs on the doors.

The recreation room was down a hallway to the left, and contained a television and table, and might well have been a little informal dining room at any house found anywhere.

We were joined by another young woman while I was there; she had to work later and so came bringing her own dinner, and like me, had a devotion to Padre Pio and had never seen the movie.

This particular movie has two parts, so when the first ended, we opted to clear the table and wash dishes, etc., and found ourselves treated to ice cream and other random things the Sisters had on hand for special occasions. Not long after we began the second part of the movie, Sister Superior asked us to pause and pray. She wanted to go to bed, so we stood and prayed part of their traditional prayers (not Compline), she thanked the other woman and I for coming, gave the Sisters permission to finish the movie with us, and headed off.

The movie completed just as the bells began to strike the 10:00 hour at the church, so we thought at first the bells were part of the movie! We each picked up what we could hold and returned to the kitchen (refrectory in convent parlance) and assisted in cleaning up. Two of the Sisters walked us to our cars, and as it was, stood talking in the parking lot, which is EXACTLY what we did a year ago, too!

It was a cool windy night, and even though I had to impatiently push my hair out of my eyes, the Sisters didn't seem to mind that their veils blew around or that their scapulars turn into sails, fluttering in the night wind.

A Year Ago

One of the Sisters seemed to be in a fairly intense conversation with the other woman who was there last night, so I didn't want to disturb them as I tried to leave. She saw I was leaving, though, and wanted to say goodbye. Which, of course, led into another conversation. We recounted the evening we met, November 2007, which is about a year and a half ago.

That evening she was the one who had asked me, "Are you discerning?"

Her question had stopped me in my tracks. The cracked door was pushed open just enough to give a hint of light. I took a deep breath and said, honestly, "I don't know."

We'd stayed in touch, here and there, but I didn't visit them until maybe the following March, 2008. I did want to visit again, but it never worked out. They are not around in the summer when I wasn't in school.

But God's timing is always perfect.

Sister told me last night that, when we'd first met, she knew that there was no way I was ready for religious life. She said that in the time she's known me, there's been a change, and she DOES believe I'm a lot more open now, a lot more prepared for whatever He has to offer. She also told me more of her own story and how hellish was her own discernment. She said it was the most difficult period of her life, but God has used that, over and over again.

I can't even tell you how good it was to hear that she's been through the same torment as I, and maybe even worse.

As of now, I am hoping and praying to visit these Sisters in July. I have received word that the Archdiocesan Office of Vocations will assist as will, likely, my own parish, and there are a few friends who might also assist, also through my parish...but that is for another post.

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I know there are those who wonder about more of the interior of the convent. Any college student would recognize it; it's much like any average dorm room, but with individual rooms called "cells". The floors are tiled, there are pictures of Saints, Our Lord, Our Lady, and statues, and in fact, there is a large statue of Our Lady at the end of the convent hallway.

I wish, for the romantic among us, that I could paint a mystery of gothic proportions, but I can't. It's a wonderful, peaceful life, no doubt one that has the same problems any of us find in our own lives.

One of the Sisters told me last night that it is a hard life, but acknowledged that each Vocation has its challenges, and they can be overcome.

It was wonderful to spend the evening with these dear, dear Sisters, in their friendly and prayerful company, knowing that, hopefully this summer, I will come to see yet another part of their lives and share in that as well.

Please keep all religious in your prayers, for you are always in theirs.

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Dating

I don't miss dating. Not one bit.

It's not that I ever took a vow not to date anymore. Since I broke up with my last boyfriend, the one I thought I wanted to marry (and whom I thought wanted to marry me, but I was wrong and he lied), I've only gone out on a couple of dates. They were fine. Nothing weird. One guy was nice enough,a Ph.D who was new in town and just looking to connect with a new social group. I saw right away he was a control freak. He was massively intelligent but defective in both his Catholic genes (was a fan of Voice of the Fuddled and was brainwashed to think they were "orthodox"), and really seemed to have a need to control everyone around him as much as possible.

It wasn't so bad on one date and at a couple social gatherings where we both happened to be present, but of course, that kind of guy, over time, gets worse. Not better. But he did me a favor and moved somewhere else so the dating possibility went elsewhere with him.  Good guy for a friend, but thank GOD for preventing me (and hopefully any woman) from being his wife! 

Other than that, I haven't met anyone I've even WANTED to date. To be clear, I LOVE men, I am very attracted to men, but I also find the pickings very slim. So many single men aren't interested in holiness; even in their 30's, they seem to be into the party scene, refusing to grow up and move on, or, of those who ARE incredible, I seem to have missed the boat. I have to wonder if I'm a rarity in my age group? A woman who truly loves Our Lord...but lives in an age group that has bought so into the secular culture of relativism that they find God, if they believe in Him, to be a hindrance to their hookups?

It's not that I've ever been any beauty at all, and in a thousand years, I wouldn't stand out in a crowd. (I like that, actually.) When it comes to marriage, looks may be a hook to get attention, but it doesn't last. The happiest couples I know aren't the beautiful people worshiped via Hollywood's lens; they're average everyday people who don't stand out to anyone but to each other.  

That's beauty, and that's love.  That's very often holiness.

And that's one of the factors I've considered in my own Vocational discernment.

It isn't about "I'm ugly so I should be a nun."

No.

It's not, "I can't find a decent guy, so I should be a nun."

No. 

Jesus isn't a consolation prize.  To consider Him such is to trivialize Who He Is and what He did to save us...and the fact that He calls and jealously guards His loved ones.  

Discernment doesn't come from deprivation, but only with a focus on love. Where is love to be found? Where is God to be found? What is God's will? Where is Christ most expressed to us, through us to others?

Deprivation, or some perceived and alleged flaw, isn't a part of understanding and seeking what we are called to be.

While we need to understand what we are "giving up", we also need to understand what we are gaining, in any state in life. I have friends who desired to be Nuns or Sisters...and ended up happily married. They saw an ideal, and God revealed His plan, when it was time. They were ready to give up the world, and God revealed to them the way to gain it and eternity entirely.

So often, the men and women who choose and are chosen by the priesthood (for men!) and religious life are subject to diatribes from the world about what they have supposedly "given up". The world forgets that some have tried what the world had to offer and found it...insulting, at best. Dismal. Unfulfilling. Typically the issue, from the worldly point of view, is sex.

People, get over it. You can live without it and be far happier without all the angst it causes.

It IS a deprivation to give up children and family, and for religious, to even be separated from family and friends while still walking the planet. But it's a sacrifice with meaning.

Dating...had no meaning for me. I'm not sure when that happened, but at some point, I just stopped looking or caring.  And that's where God entered in and asked me to look at Him. 

I don't really miss dating. Sure, it was nice to go to dinner and a movie sometimes, and the last guy I dated was a perfect gentleman (THAT was rare!) who didn't expect to be "paid" for dinner. The food, the conversation, the social aspect...that's something that was very enjoyable but I can find that same enjoyment with my friends. 

At some point, I realized there is supposed to be something more.   THAT was the deprivation. 

Some people are called to marriage, and my heart goes out to them as they seek the one God has chosen for them. Long marriages are amazing, and in this culture, it seems so hard for any woman to find a good man, and vice versa.

Sometimes, I realize that I'll never be married, and I'm a bit saddened, but at the same time, I have this sense that it was never meant to be, anyway. From the time I was a little girl, even as I spoke about marriage, I don't think I ever really believed it was something I'd experience.  

Maybe there was a part of me that thought, for awhile, that such a gift as marriage was "too good" for a girl like me.  

It doesn't sadden me, so don't offer "condolences" or "there now's".

There is no consolation prize that you can offer, and I'm not in need of consolation of any sort...none offered by this world. 

If I WAS in need of consolation, however, and if any future-brides out there need help in gaining perspective, I would recommend going HERE. And you may find that your attitude has been properly adjusted.

Or, uh, consoled.

And that's all I have to say about that.
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(This wasn't going where you thought, was it? And if you haven't, click on the link NOW!) 


Oh, yes, Adoro has a funny bone. 

Vocation - Who We Really Are

Vocations have been on my mind a lot lately, for a number of reasons.

My own discernment is one of them, for I still need to find a Spiritual Director, I still need to visit the Sisters that it seems God has drawn me towards, and I can't seem to get there! When I am available (ie in between semesters), they are at the Motherhouse. When they are here, I am busy with school and weekend work...my job requires that I be there. And their cutoff age is 35.

There is no chance I could enter before my next birthday...too much debt. Housing market not good for sales. I'm willing to quit school to enter, but I'm not willing to quit "just in case". For now, it seems that continuing with my Master's is God's plan for me. I can only continue until I'm told to stop. And no knowledge will be wasted. So I go on, trying to discern God's time and not my own. He doesn't know age. Only I do.

The second reason is that I'm reading Rumer Godden, In This House of Brede, which is a story about a London businesswoman who leaves her life behind to enter a Benedictine cloister. It's a fascinating read, and does reveal the reality of religious life; that it is not romantic or glamorous. It's actually showing me the world that I know exists, for I've been devoid of "romantic" notions for a long time. I can't say this book is helping me, though. Although it is fascinating, and I'm totally absorbed, I read it as a single woman and realize how easy I have it. How set in my ways I am. How hard it would be to enter a community, cloistered or active, and have to deal with people ALL THE TIME, and even the politics. There would be no real escape.

The luxury of my own life is the amount of time I have to myself. If I want to get away, it's easy. I simply don't answer the phone or door, and I disconnect from the internet. Done. (And do you see the problem...how the word "I" is so central to this?).

Giving ourselves to God means dying to ourselves, giving up our little luxuries, being available to others, whether we like it or not. Living in community means we have to either flounder or grow in virtue and grace. Religious life is a hard life; it means we don't get to run away when it gets difficult.

All of this is especially important now, for as I read this book it points to the third reason why the idea of Vocation has been so close to my heart of late: my dear friend, Sr. Mary Gibson, has her Investiture in the Holy Habit of St. Benedict on this Tuesday, December 6th. As I've been reading Brede, I've been trying to see her there, what she is going through. I can't attend this Tuesday, for I am in Minnesota and she is in Kansas City, but I will be there in spirit and in prayer.

My friend is a great inspiration to me; although she is a few years younger than I, she has also had many careers, she has also struggled to know God, and her Vocation actually took her by surprise. She had not really considered religious life, and then, suddenly, discovered the Benedictines of Mary. Through her job in a parish, no less. (Just as I have discovered, through my current job in a parish the Sisters I am discerning). Sr. Mary was a socialite, never knowing a stranger. And that's how we became friends. She has a great sense of humor, an eye for beauty, a love of travel (having lived in Rome for a year), and we even identified on the career front; for awhile, she was a paramedic, and loved the work. (While I once aspired to that career, I stopped with EMT and used the training only in a volunteer capacity, somewhat marginally professionally through my short firefighting career.) As it was, I think we understood each other, but what was most important in our friendship was and remains our love for God and desiring to be what He calls us to be.

Although I cannot receive direct letters from her, for she is limited, I can send her blog posts, I can send her letters, and know that she is praying. And every time I pick up my Liturgy of the Hours, seeing her name inscribed inside the front cover, I pray for her.

It seems she has found her Vocation, and I wish I could describe to you her happiness the day I met her on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. She'd just visited the Monastery and that evening had a meeting with her Spiritual Director. She ran out to me from her meeting, as we were to go to Mass together. You should have seen the GLOW emanating from her! I'd never seen her so happy, and she told me that her SD had never seen her so at peace.

God calls each and every one of us. I'm still struggling to find my place in His plan, and just today was in a conversation with a friend about this very thing. We are all formed by our backgrounds, our choices, the things we once thought we desired or thought were right, only to have to face the fact that they were not. Maybe for someone else, but not us.

I've been so confused given my own background, having to re-adjust my perspective to something other than the world's view, and it will probably be a struggle for a long time to come. And that's perfectly fine. It was what it was, and it now is what it is...but it doesn't have to be where I remain. God is calling. He has a plan. He always did. And He uses EVERYTHING.

But...in the end, we become who God called us to be, if only we keep trying. I'm not sure if I have a Vocation to religious life. I'm still very torn on this, especially recognizing my own ingrained habits. I'm certain I am not called to marriage, and the idea of a single, celibate life seems perfectly natural to me. Yet it's important that I take some time to discern if perhaps God might be calling me out of myself to live in a community, something that really does seem to go against my being...or maybe not. For is that really what I was seeking as I trekked through law enforcement, firefighting, and ski patrol? Was I really looking for a community home?

We, in our brokenness tend to look among the wrong things instead of the greater. We feel unworthy to approach the King, who calls us His children, recognizing in us the design to be princes and princesses. Instead, we eat the slop of pigs and look to foreign ideals for definition, when all we need to do is come back to the house of our Father.

I know that I'm still straddling these worlds. I have one foot in slop, the other in the King's Court, and for the life of me I can't seem to let go enough to let Our Lord clean me up, offer me a ring, and clothe me in the finery He's had on reserve. I can't seem to let go of my own definition of "freedom" in order to embrace true freedom.

And that's what it is about; our Vocation is not something that we do. It is who we are called to be; it's who we were brought into existence to become. And in the end, it is a call to eternal union with God.

I'm still searching, I'm still trying to come to terms with my past so that I can embrace my future. I'm still trying to die to myself so that I can live for God.

Only in finding my Vocation can I do any of it.
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How do you spot a future nun?

Fr. Zehnle asks: How do you spot a future nun?

This is a very interesting question. Most of the priests I know, either in real life or via blogging, have a sense of how to suggest the priesthood to young men (and some "older" ones!). But they often seem mystified as to how to address Vocations for women. Certainly, they might suggest religious life to some, but I get the distinct impression that they are almost afraid to do this. Please correct me if I'm wrong in this assessment.

Let's face it...men in general are terrified of women, and for a lot of reasons, some of them legitimate. You don't want to offend us in any way, and there is a weird undercurrent of an idea out there that to suggest a woman become a religious sister is akin to telling her she's substandard in some way. I've run into this myself. Several years ago I told a male friend that a woman I knew in college had entered a cloister. I wasn't practicing my faith at the time, but I admired her, and with great affection, I said, "I'm not a bit surprised." His response was derisive laughter, assuming I was insulting her. I'll never forget the moment; it was as if his comments were directed at me.

So, everyone, let's just get that behind us. Normal-in-every-way men and women are called by God to enter the priesthood and religious life. Some people might ascribe the invitation to be some kind of a veiled insult, but please don't let that kind of hostile ignorance stop you from seeing the good in us and suggesting that God might actually love us and be calling us to something more.

That's exactly what an invitation to consider the religious life is about; that invitation alone is an expression that God loves us so much that He is asking us for a particular type of participation in His own love. It's not an insult by any stretch of the imagination, and if you suggest it to us, it's also an expression of your own affection for us, for it shows that you see something in us that maybe we don't see in ourselves, or, if we are thinking about it, it can be an affirmation to try.

We all need a little push sometimes.

When I was in High School, very involved in my parish, I used to cringe on "Vocation Sunday". I was very aware that I was one of the few (count 'em on less than one hand) involved teens. I knew I would be a prime target for the dreaded Vocation Invitation.

I loved serving in the capacity in which I served, but I didn't want to be a nun. Every time I heard a homily about Vocations, I would shake in my shoes and think, "No! I don't want to do that! I don't want to be a nun!"

Never mind that no one had EVER approached me with that idea.

We had a Sister in our parish, Sr. Zacchaeus, a very short lady who wore a modified grey habit and black veil. She had a perfect U-shaped smile, and actually tried to get me, via scholarship, to go to the local Catholic School. I was REALLY terrified of her during Vocations Awareness week! She often expressed how happy she was that I was so involved in the parish. And when she went down that route, I would try to slip away as quickly as I could. Quite literally, I was trying to avoid ever hearing anyone suggest that I "become a nun."

Either I was successful in my efforts or no one ever thought to bother to ask. I'll never know.

And I have a confession to make; there was a part of me that hoped maybe someone WOULD catch me and suggest, "Have you ever considered becoming a nun?"

Because even though on one hand it would be "uncool", on the other hand, I knew instinctively the love that comes with such a suggestion. And because I didn't know how I would react, I ran away before the subject could even be broached.

In looking back now, I have to wonder if maybe that was the mysterious Call...even then.

So what to look for?

That's a great question. But even I can't answer it.

Look for someone who is involved in their parish. Sometimes love for God is expressed first through service...or perhaps that service is what makes the catechesis hit the heart. Look for someone who loves prayer, who has a desire to learn the faith, and above all..a joy about doing so. Look for someone who is consistent (ie not given to following the latest "theological" fads), and truly seems to have a love for Christ.

Don't look for perfection, for a particular personality, a type of family. Maybe it's the girl who goes about some regular service in the parish, quietly, without pomp and circumstance. Does she attend Mass regularly? Every day? Is she in college? Just out of college? Is she in her 20's or her 40's?

Age doesn't matter. God calls everyone according to HIS will, not our timing.

Maybe she's the woman in the pew next to you on Sunday, or Tuesday, or the Holy Day. No ring on her finger, no children at her side. Maybe something about her strikes you and you wonder if maybe she's ever considered that option.

Maybe she needs to hear it from YOU.

Because she won't say a word. She might be living out a silent agony of indecision and a sense of unworthiness, terrified to ever consider that when God points His finger, or Jesus stretches out His hand, it might be towards her. You might be the person to make her reach back.

Give that invitation, and without hesitation. It doesn't matter if you can "spot" a future nun. If you even have an inkling, go ahead and make the suggestion. And if you know she is discerning, don't push, but also don't be afraid to offer encouragement.

How do you spot a future nun? You don't. But God does, and He might be using you to point her in the right direction.
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Surprises and Prayers

It was a long hard day today, and it's been a rough week, for many reasons. This evening, though, I came home to a very welcome surprise.

There, in my mailbox, was a small package from the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles, Priory of Our Lady of Ephesus in Kansas City, MO. What could it be?

Sure enough, as the letter accompanying it explained, it is the first release of their CD, Echoes of Ephesus. And even better...there on the cover photo is my friend Sister Mary Gibson, in her postulant habit. Her Investiture will be taking place in only a little over a month from now, on the Feast of the Epiphany.

I am listening to the CD as I write this, and can testify that it is the PERFECT way to end my day; the music is beautiful, a mixture of Latin and English, traditional hymns and some new compositions using music completely coherent with their way of life which hasn't changed for thousands of years. (But for some technical upgrades!)

Tonight, as I pray night prayer, I will do so especially cognizant that the book in my hand has my friend's name inscribed inside the cover, and I will be listening to her sing with her Sisters. It was only a year ago that she visited the monastery, and last year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I met her after her meeting with her Spiritual Director, and just before we went in to Mass, she gave me the official news...that it was a YES!

Please keep Sister Mary Gibson in your prayers as she prepares for the next stage in her Vocation on the Feast of the Epiphany, and pray for all the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles.

Inspiring Ire

Just recently,while doing coursework for my class in Spiritual Theology, I read an excerpt on Moses from St. Gregory of Nyssa. He spoke of the clothing of Moses being washed clean as a "habit", significant because the exterior of a human being reflects upon the interior. It was an allegory, to be certain, but I suspect, not having done other research, that the term we use for religious garb likely dates back to that usage by St. Gregory of Nyssa.

To Wear or Not to Wear

This topic seems to always get people up at arms, and truly I don't understand why. We all have opinions. We all have clothing. We all have opinions about clothing. Why does the use or non-use of the Habit inspire such ire?

Last spring, I attended an Archdiocesan training event, and shared a table with a DRE from another parish. Somehow, the topic of Vocations arose randomly, and I mentioned a friend of mine who was entering a Benedictine Cloister. The DRE was shocked and stated that she thought women no longer chose that kind of life. She sincerely wanted to know why my friend, and other women, would choose not only to wear a habit, but to live that kind of life?

I responded that it was a Call of Christ Himself, to give herself radically to Him, to pray for the Church, for Priests (their charism) and us all. I mentioned the other communities that are EXPLODING with Vocations, such as the Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, and the LA Carmelites, as well as others that wear habits. The DRE's confusion was growing; this was beyond her worldview. She truly wanted to know what would inspire young women to give up all that they had to wear a common form of dress and live in community?

She literally stated, "I didn't think anyone wanted to do that anymore!"

It was MY turn to be shocked. Even though I and the people I knew were well aware of the tide of Vocations to the Priesthood and Religious Life taking place all over America, this woman, a DRE, hadn't a clue. This information completely took her by surprise. She'd never heard of the Sisters of Mary or the Nashville Dominicans from which they had sprung. She'd never heard of the LA Carmelites. She didn't even know that there is a Carmelite Cloister just east of St. Paul!

I did my best not to reveal my shock, but I think I failed, even as I earnestly shared with her my friend's Vocation story, and the reaons for it. I encouraged her, as a DRE, to look up this information and present it to the young men and women at her parish, so that they would see this great opportunity open to them, to give their lives to Christ.

Hostility

That DRE was from a parish known to be somewhat left-leaning, although in our exchange there was no hostility; only surprise. Yet I have made the acquaintance of a woman who was once a Sister with a local notoriously-left-wing-nearly-pagan (if not outright) commmunity...and that meeting didn't go so well. I had innocently brought the use of a habit as a prop into our conversation, and she immediately went on the attack. I was taken off guard until she identified herself. Had I known, I would have made my point in a different way, but as it was the "war" was engaged and I did my best to be diplomatic in response to her verbal and rhetorical attack.

She made some good points, and some with which I agreed; her community was originally formed to look just like the people they served, so as not to stand out. So it was that they returned to this, and I have no quarrel with that.

Indeed, many missionary communities cannot wear identifying garb, for if they did, they would be executed, or at the very least, harassed. I know of one situation where, if the community wore religious clothing they would be misidentified with a certain governmental oppression, and the people would not trust them. These Sisters, then, even if they in other places wear a habit, don't in that location for the habit would literally be a barrier.

While persecuation has been our lot as Catholics from the Cross itself, we have to realize, that in some countries or locales, to obviously identify ourselves could mean that the mission is not spread, and the slaughter of the only evangelists in a thousand mile radius does not bring Christ to that community.

So let us at least be willing to admit that the Habit isn't synonymous with survival of the Gospel. Nor does the Habit automatically signify orthodoxy; there are habited communities that are faithful to their clothing, but not to the Gospel. It is important to recognize this.

Discernment

I'm going to admit it; I'm back to thinking I have been called to Religious Life. Now, don't go getting excited. Please don't comment it on that at all. Even my family doesn't know, most of the people closest to me in my life don't know, and I prefer it that way. I did it wrong the first time around, and I don't need a whole bunch of people giving me their preferences, sending me links, etc. I know what I need to do next, I have communities I want to visit, and I know what I'm giving up. Or not giving up.

I'm further going to admit that the Habit is part of my discernment; for I will not consider a community that doesn't wear it 100% of the time.

Why?

From past experience in discernment. It seems that, consistently, the communities that have entirely left the Habit behind have also left De Fidei issues of the Church behind. I am not willing to substitute contemplative prayer or the rosary or Liturgy of the Hours on behalf of Yoga or Centering "Prayer" or classes in Reiki. I've already gone the route of Tarot and other Occult things...I'm not willing to revisit those practices.

Even further, there is the issue of Discipline; if a community is lax in discipline, without a clear head, clear obedience to that head through a hierarchical system, well, I have to wonder what poison may be introduced...and not confronted. As I have read in the works of St. Catherine of Siena, the virtue of Obedience is the key to Heaven, and if obedience is not necessary, then where is there a foundation of Humility?

I find, objectively, the virtues lacking in many of the Orders that have lost the Habit. I can't speak to the holiness of the women, individually, but I can objectively observe disobedience to the most basic tenants of the Catholic Faith, and I can objectively discern that they have nothing to inspire me to be anything other than a secular social worker.

Yeah. I already have a degree in Criminal Justice. I can already be a secular social worker. I want something more. God wants something more of ME.

TO BE FAIR

I'm not slamming all Orders that have shunned the habit; as I said, there are legitimate reasons for not wearing it. I respect those reasons, (some of them), and condone others outright. The habit does not make one Holy; nor does it make one Naive.

Oh yes, I went there.

Some people level the charge that those Sisters that are now taking Vows in habited Communities are doing so out of naivete, or a sense of romance or nostalgia. Some suggest they are "immmature" or will "grow out of it" and the habit "phase" will fall into oblivion.

I read an account of a young woman who was at a discernment retreat involving both habited and non-habited Sisters. She sat down at a table with some non-habited Sisters and became engaged in a conversation. During this exchange she mentioned the habit, innocently, and that she wanted to wear one...immediately the conversation changed, the Sisters got up and abandoned her. She was confused and hurt by their reaction as she'd never indicated a rejection of their communities or their lack of a habit. The girl was literally not aware that the habit was a point of contention; and on that day, she, a sincere seeker, experienced a definitive lack of charity that could have destroyed her Vocation.

I've read many accounts of people, Catholic and non-Catholic, who have fond memories of Sisters in Habit. I've heard stories of people who have been drawn to these women who wear a visible symbol, even though the people drawn to them may not be Catholic themselves.

Our world today, more than ever, needs a visible manifestation of Christ among us, and the Habit provides that, just as we see it in the Roman Collar of the Priests who move among us. It was Sisters in black-and-white habits who once gave me courage through their presence and idendification alone to ask for help in a foreign country, where I wasn't even sure someone would be willing to help. If those Sisters hadn't been in habit, I would have been lost. And it was their presence that inspired respect in the people who shared our Combi that evening, for I've never seen such charity, even after the Sisters had departed. And that's saying something, for in Mexico, the charity I experienced on a daily basis has NEVER been equaled in my entire life in America.

It's legitimate to suggest that not all Orders began with a Habit in mind, however, the way our Spirituality has developed over the years, and in the way our culture has become so secularized, it is clear that we need "sound bites" in the form of identifiable dress so that people will be able to see a manifestation of Christ before their very eyes.

Just today I read an accusation suggesting that women who choose the habit do it "for attention". I must STRONGLY disagree!

Been There, Done That, Still Have the Shirts

I have worn many uniforms, and can't say I was truly comfortabe in any of them. I knew that my uniform identified me, and indeed, people came to me to address their problems, hoping I had the answer they needed. They also looked judgmentally at my uniform, projecting upon me any problems they'd previously had with someone else in the past who had worn the identical patches. I've been the juxtaposition of being a perceived savior even as I've represented oppression, all while someone else was breathing down my neck, defining me in yet another way.
So it is that I regard the idea of taking a habit through a lens of having been there before. It's much more comfortable to blend in, to not be noticed, to not stand out from the crowd. I am a very ordinary-looking person and I like it that way. I don't like standing out or being recognized. When I wore a uniform, I felt the stares, and felt the depersonalization, realizing that every action I took did not reflect upon me as a person, but upon the entity I represented in that dress.
So is the Habit, although the Entity represented is God, and the standard is much higher.

The accusation of "attention" is another one that astounds me, for it's also one of the reasons I have hesitated. For I almost fear being "swallowed up" in a sea of people who look just like me. I fear to lose my individuality...my own nothingness being absorbed into greater nothingness. On the other hand, I know that in donning a visible symbol, I will again enter a world of discomfort, of the inability to be invisible.

Yet I'm willing to do this because in donning a Habit, I am dying to myself, I am putting on Christ...and I am becoming a living symbol to a world that desperately needs a visible sign of hope. It's not about me, but it is all about God, and about His Only Son. God is He who Is...I am she who is not. The Habit makes this reality tangible.

Certainly, God could call me to a community that does not wear a Habit, and I am willing to accept that. Yet I believe that He is calling me to die to myself, to allow myself to be "lost" so that I may become all I am supposed to be, known to the world or hidden forever, to be known only by Our Lord. Or perhaps I will be forced to accept all souls who come my way, responding not to me...but to God manifested through me, identifying me not individually but by whom I represent.

We all have to remember; we are not here on earth to glorify ourselves, but rather, to glorify God. And I would rather be hidden in a Habit through which Christ becomes known to others, than through myself, a pitiful Minnesota woman with an unforgettable name and unforgettable face.

Let us all put on Christ every day, for it is He who lives in us, and He who must reign.
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Modern-Day Martyrdom

Found at Orissa Burning.

Oh, I SO can't wait to see this!

Today I learned about a 7-minute short that made its debut at World Youth Day this year. The video is unfortunately not yet available, but the gallery photos from the project are a wonderful tool for marketing.

I'll admit it. I'm drooling. I can't WAIT to see this!

The short film, "Women of Mystery, Women of Hope" highlights the lifestyles of three religious communities as they go about their daily lives. Mass, Prayer, Apostolate....and fun. Yup. You might not realize it, but REAL Sisters aren't angry and bitter feminist holdovers from the 60's, but are real, LIVE, joyful women who have devoted their lives to Christ and radiate this love to the world in all that they do and in all that they are.

Although it doesn't seem that this is a Vocations video, I have to say that FINALLY, women who are discerning have an answer to the powerful DVD "Fishers of Men."

And for now, that's all I have to say about that.

Synthetic Connections

Many many moons ago, back in the summer between high school and college, back when I was focused on a future career in law enforcement, I went on several ride alongs with the City police department and the Deputies. And I usually rode with one Deputy in particular for I knew he and his family well.

That was a terrible summer, but wonderful just the same. It was the summer Mom attempted suicide and went into the hospital with my signature drying on the document that sent her there. It was the summer I learned that "home" doesn't really have any meaning for me, and the summer that gave me a taste of adulthood I shouldn't have had for many years, inagurated through the tragedy that was my family.

But that deputy and his family was one that took me under their wings, so no matter where I went, I had ready-made "families" who truly wanted the best for me. I'd always been a good student in school, I was never in any real trouble, and now, looking back, I believe that these wonderful people looked at the shambles of my family and the promise that seemed to be in front of me...and decided I might be a worthy cause.

That deputy was one of those people, and I was often able to go on ride alongs with him, which actually sort of surprised me. He was a stoic type, not prone to smiling but had a dry humor that one had to be quick, and even somewhat mature, to catch. But he had a heart of gold, and even as he didn't reveal affection for others in his speech, it was written all over the most profound actions in his life and the decisions he made.

Tonight, as I pour over the vocation materials sent to me by Sister J. all the way from the East Coast, I can't help but smile.

Because many years ago, while sitting in a squad car on a hot Minnesota summer day, he suggested to me, out of the blue, "You should become a nun." He paused there, and added, "A nun with a gun." And chuckled.

Huh?!

I never knew when he was really serious, but on that day, he looked at me quite seriously but I saw the mischevious glint in his eye, along with an expression of honest appraisal.

"No way!"

"Yup" he said, turning his eyes back to the road we were watching. "A nun. With a gun." And he chuckled again, softly, only to later return to this topic. I pretended to pout, and let me tell you...I had NO intention of becoming a nun! I was gonna be a cop...with a gun...maybe protecting nuns but that was it!

Fast forward seventeen years.

Last Saturday as the Sisters and I chatted after dinner, we discussed (very briefly) some of my history, and they learned that at one time I was indeed a cop, wearing a uniform and driving a squad...and carrying a gun.

Sister appraised me for a moment and then asked, "Do you still have a gun?"

I was a little taken aback by her question, but answered, "Yes, I still have a few."

She fired again, "Are you a good shot?"

I couldn't help but laugh. The other Sister was looking at the first in a peculiar manner, but also clearly amused.

When I didn't immediately answer, she asked her question again...she was really serious!

So I answered, "Yes...I used to be a good shot, but the last time I went shooting now was a couple years ago."

There I sat, in a convent, taking part in maybe one of the must unexpected conversations of my life! And yet I was amused...because as any police officer, former or current can attest...the general public is FASCINATED by the life and experiences of a cop.

And briefly, across my mind flashed the memory of the squad car and J., the deputy, saying, "..a nun with a gun."

It seems his voice echoes a bit.

And clearly, religious sisters maintain the same fascination as anyone else. Our conversation didn't go far...there's a lot more I could have said about guns and shooting, but yet it seemed that it was such an odd location for that conversation. After all, we'd just been before Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, we'd had a wonderful meal...and suddenly we were speaking of a tool of my past, even part of my attachment to the world. For I still own my gun, and I still enjoy shooting although I can't afford to go very often. Even a box of reloads are expensive to me.

And I have moral qualms to a certain degree; because I learned to shoot at human silhouettes, which was proper for my training. And I still like to shoot at silhouettes, for if I ever use my gun in self-defense, I won't be shooting at a bulls-eye...I'll be shooting at an attacker and I still need to train for those deadly shots.

How warped I am, in so many ways.

Oh, look....I've gone off track again.

Today I was thinking about the connections we make with the past, and how God speaks to us through our pasts, and how those things echo into the future we can't see...but He can. And how the Lord must chuckle at the unintended humor in our lives and choices.

In class, we speak of the synthetic connections that reveal the Messiah through scriptures, and we speak of great Saints such as St. Thomas Aquinas, who was able to synthesize all the early Church Fathers within his great works. All of life is a synthesis...it doesn't just apply to theology.

Things from our past often point to our future, and our memories...they aren't accidental. It's not to say that a particular memory or situation or even synthesis reveals the final outcome, but rather, it points us towards a greater Divine plan in our lives, something that far transcends us and makes us look back somewhat sheepishly as we consider words and attitudes from long ago.

Here I am, eating my words, considering becoming a nun, I still have my gun, and you know...I have a couple tattoos, too. How bizarre.

No, I don't know where this is going, and I don't know what I'm gong to learn in the upcoming months, or even years. But I DO realize that things are unfolding according to God's plan, and it is my job to walk along, taking the next reasonable step. Am I supposed to be a Sister? I don't know. Maybe, Maybe not. Or maybe not now, but at some point in the distant future. Or maybe next week I'll meet the man destined to become my husband.

Or perhaps I'll be hit by a cement truck while mailing a letter and find that I am a pilgrim no longer.

Life is fascinating, is it not? We all have stories, and they contain such depth and so many dimensions. A few years ago, for a short time, I did have a spiritual director, and he told me to learn to look at my life as a story told by God, and see it through his eyes. I think that's still happening, and I pass that advice on to everyone. We get so locked into our own perceptions, but there is another perspective, if we are willing to allow God to show it to us. It doesn't happen instantaneously, but over time, we begin to make connections. And always...those connections bring us closer to the God who loves us so much that He called us from eternity and into being.

It's amazing to begin to see life from new eyes. It's amazing to realize that we can ask for this gift and if we are patient, God will reveal the synthesis of our very lives.

The Only Question

When it comes down to it, there's only one question we need to ask ourselves. Only one question. And it's our response that determines our actions, and our entire lives.

A friend of mine brought it up last week sometime. She was discussing a talk she'd heard a priest give some time ago, or maybe an article he'd written. I can't name the priest, or the source, or any specifics. But the response he gave stuck with her, and resonates further with me.

Someone had asked the priest how he could give up his whole life, a wife, children, possessions typical of the average person...all of that? How could he have made such a choice?

His answer was simple: "Because I believe God is who He claims to be."


I think that very line stopped my heart for a few moments.

I think that such a profound statement is designed to MAKE our hearts stop for awhile.

And what a profound effect those words, of that unknown priest, echoing through others, has caused! Here I am, days later, alternately questioning and answering this reverberating, resonating, deeply magnified echo.

Is God who He claims to be?

GOD is who He claims to be...

God is who He claims to be...

God is who He claims to be.

And I have to anwer that echo. I have to answer the response. I have to make a choice; to believe, or to disbelieve.

I can't disbelieve, because I know different. I have made the decision; God is EXACTLY who He claims to be. Jesus Christ is EXACTLY who He claims to be.

Because of the words of that one nameless, unknown priest, every time I look at a priest or see the title "Father", I recognize the response to the challenge; Is God who He claims to be?

And every time I look at a Sister or a Brother...the same response: their very lives for the Lord. Their very LIVES for God.

Because they looked at the promises of the world, and the promises of God. And we all know that the promises of the world are naught but shadows and puppets and feints. Yet the Word of the Lord is eternal. Our very being reveals that there is an objective Truth, there must be a Creator; God exists. And He stands in juxtaposition to the world and all its fakery, all its fallenness.

I'm in the latter. I'm in that world. I see the lies, the seduction, the false promises. Who hasn't?

In the end, we have to respond to the Question...is God who He claims to be?

For if He is...we have to choose.

If God is our All in All...we need to drop our crystals, for they are only rocks. If God is the Holy Spirit...we need to denounce practices such as Reiki.
If God is All-Knowing and All-Powerful (Omnipotent)...we need to abandon our pursuit of the Occult.

If we believe that God is who He claims to be, then we need to realize that the above practices break the First Commandment and offend God, for they are formally idol worship. For we cannot put our faith in rocks if God is God, and we cannot trust in Chi if the Holy Spirit is the One we desire to inhabit our souls, and we cannot seek knowledge from manipulated sources that manipulate us...opposing the Creator who gave us Free Will and asked us to TRUST.

If Jesus suffered and died on the Cross, for us, personally, knowing our lack of trust, we must believe that God truly loves us. Each and every one.

That understanding should change us. It should make us consider the pretty baubles in our hands in contrast with the sacrifice made for us; and we should drop the rocks. They cannot be cast upon another, and they cannot be held in order to heal us. A rock is a created object and contains nothing in and of itself.

If we place our faith in rocks, we deny God. If we place our faith in ourselves, we deny God. If we place our faith in money or power or career...we deny God.

Is God who He claims to be?

If He is...then why do YOU deny Him?

If God is who He claims to be...what stops us from giving Him our unconditional YES!?

Don't EVER Use the Q Word!

Tonight's religious ed classes were going well. There were some minor things that popped up, but easily handled, and nothing that really required anything other than running up and down a hallway a couple times. It was weird. It was eerie. I knew something was coming.

That sense was confirmed during the second session, during which two catechists said to me, "It's a really quiet night!"

I knew we were doomed. I didn't even bother to chastize them for using the "Q" word, because, truth be told, I was beginning to think that in fact, all was well.

Don't EVER make that mistake!

I went down the hall to a meeting room where a small party had taken place tonight, noting that a little cleanup was needed. As I stood in the kitchen, grabbing a couple items, I happened to look into the cafeteria, and saw that for some reason, there were paper towels piled on the floor near a boy who was standing upright, holding more paper towels to his face. What was this game?

It wasn't hard to see the blood. Lots of it.

I had a couple of wet paper towels in my hand, and entered the room. The catechist had a clump of bloody paper towels in her hand, said he had a bloody nose, and it wouldn't stop. She wondered about a biohazard kit. I realized we didn't have anything handy and decided that it wasn't immediately important...the ongoing blood WAS a factor.

The kid was calm, but the catechist wasn't so much...her concern...it wouldn't stop! She'd never seen it not stop! She had been about to come get me. I have to admit I mostly ignored her, noting only that she was close to panic, and I was surprised; she's a champ around kids. And I had to try not to get caught up in her panic. Her tone made me want to just call 911, and I knew that such action wasn't necessary...at least, not at that point.

I asked the kid how long it had been bleeding. About 2 or 3 minutes, and yes, he'd had bloody noses before. The catechis said again that it wouldn't stop. I told them both it was fine...sometimes it takes a little while. And this one had started as a result of an unfortunate meeting between playing children. All of the playing had stopped, and the group was genuinely concerned. It's always a major event if someone is bleeding.

So we walked the kid down the hall towards the office, and it seems one of the kids had run to get one of us, for our secretary was bringing some napkins and paper towels (much better than the industrial brown paper grocery bags they place on a roll in schools and other mass-people settings). She also had an ice pack. Perfect.

We sat him down in the office and proceeded to clean him up. I gotta give that kid credit; he had remained calm, although he was a bit shaken while standing in the gym. And his first thought about moving was that he didn't want to get blood trailing him in the hallway! And then he let us clean him up, and just did as he was told, careful not to touch anything or do anything to make it worse. That kid was a champ!

Of course, this was immediately at the end of the session. That meant that all sorts of catechists were rushing the office with stuff and things and requests for next week or two weeks from now. One had a form to turn in, one that goes to the DRE, not me, but they always try to give that form to me, no matter how many times I tell them it goes elsewhere. So there I was, kneeling, cleaing this kid up, blood all over my (gloved) hands, bloody paper towels in my hands, and she tries to hand me a form. I admit I looked at her like she was nuts, kinda waved my hands a bit to show off all the redness, and suggested she just set it down in a convenient location?

Oh...right. She agreed. I learned that one can do many things and carry on several convesations while mopping blood from a child.

Quiet night? Dear God, SPARE US from "Quiet nights!"

Other Business...

I have been in recent contact with the Sisters who came to speak last fall at a vocations day for the Confirmation class. Sister M.K. in particular has been in contact, and today reiterated her invitation to visit them some evening for prayer and dinner. I sent an email in return, but as they don't tend to check their email more than a couple times per week, I decided to just call the convent. She wasn't back yet (they are teachers), so I left a message with my numbers, and haven't heard from her yet. I'm accepting her invitation...they are awesome Sisters, and I'm looking forward to seeing them again.

My DRE is aware of the visit. She asked me if it's a "professional" visit. I don't know. But I do know I LOVE the Sisters and really want to visit them. And I know some of you are out there...DON'T JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS!

Next thing...

On the garage door...a friend of mine, a neighbor who also recently had problems recommended a particular business and gave me the number. So I called them, and told them I knew a cable had snapped. It'll be $138 to replace both cables (which makes sense to replace BOTH at the same time.) * sigh * They'll be out on Friday, which is a day I was going to take off anyway. This time it just means I have to sit at home and wait for service. Oh, and I really need to clean my house because it's a disaster and I can't have people walking through here to access the garage and have them see such a sty. My neighbor already did. I'm still embarassed.

One of my catechists also had a similar problem, but in her case, it was the spring..which they realized when they tried to release the door so as to open it manually. It wouldn't move...like mine. I'm just praying I don't have a two-fold garage door failure.

NEXT TOPIC....

Another winter storm is coming. The brunt should pass to our north, but my county is included in the watch and disaster. On the positive side, the worst of the travel that day will be on Friday..which I'll have off. And I can delay giving my dog her Frontline (someone I know already saw a tick on her dog), and I also have the day off, so I won't have to deal with traffic. Unless I visit the Sisters Friday, and it could be that we do that on Saturday instead. Or Sunday. Or in a couple weeks.

But the bad side....I can't get my car into my garage, meaning that I'm hoping my doors don't freeze shut, I'll have to clean off my car, I'll have to shovel my own stupid driveway instead of let the people I'm paying my left hand to plow do so. Etc.

And besides...it's APRIL! I'm not ready for warm temps, but I am SICK of snow! It's not useful to me in the way of skiing, it's the sticky sort that is FAR WORSE than cold, dry scuttering snow, because it packs down and becomes a rink if any pressure is placed on it.

I'm not asking for much...a cool, rainy spring (I'm ok with rainy), no more snow, and a cool summer that doesn't involve humidity or the necessity of using central air. Because other than my plumbing and electrical, it's the only thing I have left to replace.

Oh...yeah....just don't use the word "Quiet" and maybe we'll get by for a little longer....

Daughters of Mary, Mother of Israel's Hope

We indeed live in exciting times.

Rosalind Moss is on EWTN tonight, on The Journey Home, (one of the shows that helped me to come back home). While the fact that she is forming a new religious community is old news, tonight she discussed it, and in a couple months, they will have their formal beginning.

For those who don't know, she is forming a religious community: Daughters of Mary, Mother of Israel's Hope. They are an evangelistic community, will be in the streets, habited, a physical presence of God in our secular world. Not many details have been released as of yet, likely for very good reason.

I have seen commenters on other blogs or news stories who were pretty much demanding more info for those discerning, and of course, this information is necessary. However, I think that some of those need to understand that the Community is not yet formal, they are likely under very strict supervision, and it wouldn't be prudent to say more than necessary in this time of very early formation.

Many are expressing interest, and I'll admit I'm watching this closely. (Please don't jump to conclusions). And in any case, we should all pray for the success of this new Community, and remember the old advice: if it is of God, it will come to fruition and it will last. If it is not of God, it will die out, and by that fruit we will know it.

But I like what Rosalind Moss has to say about this, I loved her brief spiritual testament (she may have been Called as a 20-year-old Jewish girl), and I just LOVE the way God works.

So let us see where this leads. Exciting times, my friends. Exciting times for us all.

UPDATE: At the end of the show, Ms. Moss gave some additional information. She is going to take the name Mother Miriam of the Lamb of God. The Community will follow the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, (and...that, like the Dominican intellect, follows St. Augustine.) They will wear full habits, floor length, full veils, full wimple and a scapular. I get the sense that the color will be black and white, but she did not say specifically.

If you are interested in more information, you may write:

Rosalind Moss
P.O. Box 582
La Mesa, CA 91944

Rich in Mercy

The most amazing thing happened yesterday.

I recieved a voice mail from the mother of a girl who need to recieve the Sacraments of First Communion and First Confession.

That's not so amazing. In fact, that's my job, to work with such parents and their children. But this call was different. Her question applied to an older child, one who is beyond the typical age.

I returned her call and after some chatting, I requested to know their background so as to know how we can best answer their needs. She was a bit hesitant, and explained that when her children were babies, she and her family fell away because the babies cried so much during Mass. And so, even as the children grew, she and her family just never returned to Mass, and admittedly, she was ashamed of this.

So I explained our current process for the Sacraments and that I will have to get back to her with an answer as to what to do specifically, but we will work with her. She was fine with that.

But our conversation continued as she explained that she hasn't been going to Communion since she has been away for so long, and doesn't feel that it's right to recieve.

My excitement was growing...this woman TOTALLY GETS IT! I affirmed her feelings; as she's been away, it is NOT proper that she recieve Commuion, and I commended her on doing the right thing. Then I just about fell out of my chair when she asked me, "How do I come back? What is the process I have to follow?"

So there, from my humble position on the floor under my desk, bursting with excitement, fighting to keep a measured tone, I simply affirmed what I'm certain she already knew...she had to go to Confession.

Quietly I said to God, "You're sending me an easy one! She already gets it!"

I did not allow too much of a lapse in our conversation, because I know from experience it's so hard to come back. And she's not coming back for herself; she is coming back for her children, and her return is a resistance to her husband who does not want to come back. So I looked up the hours for Confession at this parish, and explained she can come anonymously and has a right to do so. But I also recommended very strongly that she make an appointment with Father, and then...enter the testimonial.

There was no detail to my testimony; only enough so that she knew I understood her fears. She herself commented on a sense of shame and guilt for having been away so long. I told her I understood, I'd felt the same way...but that we want nothing more than to have her come back into communion with the Church. And that when she went to Confession, that it would be the same...it was that way for me. I emphasized that it SEEMS scary, but it's not, and that all she needed to do was to say it had been awhile, and Father would walk her through it.

I also recommended an examination of conscience. Unfortunately I did not have one immediately linked, but promised to get back to her with one; she accepted this.

One other issue that came up; she is not so familiar with the parish as it's been so long. She hasn't been to Confession in a long time, and was apparently never much of a member, so didn't know where the Confessional was. I gave "directions", but realized they didn't make a lot of sense to someone who doesn't know the geography of the building. Remembering that this was also one of my issues, I offered to meet with her to give her a tour of the church to help her feel more comfortable.

Because I've not spoken of this before, I feel it's proper to mention; one of the things that keeps people away from Confession is the lack of knowledge of WHERE the confessionals are! They aren't marked anymore in many places, they aren't obvious, and sometimes people need a MAP to get there! Some parishes have Confessions regularly, and so it's easier, but still. Even in my home parish, it's not obvious. Other churches have traditional confessionals, others have "Reconciliation rooms", and the lack of consistency is very confusing to people who have been away for a long time.

So I recognized in her the same fear I've had; where to go? What to do? When?

She didn't ask all her questions, and I didn't want to overwhelm her, so I just told her that if she has any questions, to call me, that I'd be happy to show her around, and encouraged her to call Father...because that's what I wish I had done.

What a wonderful lady. You should have heard the absolute relief in her voice! When our conversation began, there had been an edge; she was unsure. She had questions, not just about her children, but about her own status. She wanted to know what to do, but wasn't sure really how to ask. She wanted a map...but didn't know where to look for it. She had a clear sense of what was right and what was wrong...but wasn't certain that this was correct. My goodness, what an example of humility!

And if you could have heard her tone when she spoke of not recieving Communion...there was an ache there. She'll do anything to come Home. She was terrified that I would say something to build her sense of shame, and because I know that feeling, all I did was welcome her. All through our conversation, in the back of my mind, was the story of the Prodigal Son, and John Paul II's Dives in misericordia. All I could do was reach out to her, wanting to bring her and her family home.

I could hear her very desire to be reconciled; she knew she wanted to come Home. And I wanted to offer her that reconciliation; but I couldn't. I don't have the authority. I'm not a priest.

So I did what God created me to do; I reached out to her...and directed her onward, to the one with the authority. I can offer a welcome...but I can't offer her complete absolution.

And in the moment, I realized the power of the authority carried by priests; the ability to truly welcome us all home. I don't want to be a priest, and as a woman, I cannot be a priest. There are good, theological reasons here, and even those reasons came home in a different way today.

As a woman, my goal is not just to be like Christ, but to be like Mary, as my model, for she ALWAYS points to her Son. Today, someone came to me, and I got to point her to Christ, via the one who stands in personal Christi, the priest who was given, via ordination, the power to bind and loose. What a blessing! I never before considered the very Vocation of woman to stand "in persona Mariam". To always point to Jesus.

To all of you priests....do you REALIZE how AWESOME and INCREDIBLE this is, to be able to welcome people home, and by the very authority of Jesus Christ, to WELCOME them back HOME!????

Seriously...if I was a guy, I'd have called the Vocations office this afternoon and asked what I need to do to become a priest.

This is powerful stuff. Having a front row seat to conversion does amazing things.

And as I'm a woman, I'm going to take this to the next level; I'm not going to demand to be a priest; instead, I'm going to work as hard as I can within my state in life to help more men answer the call to the priesthood, and for women, the call to religious life. What woman would settle for being a priest when she could work to answer the need to cultivate a THOUSAND priests? As one person, I can do nothing; but if one day, a thousand priests and religious stand as witnesses at my Judgment and say I had a positive effect on their choosing or reinforcing their Call...well, I choose that. Let me stand "in persona Miriam", and do all within my ability to point people straight to Jesus Christ.