New Beginnings

When God closes a door... or in this case, opens a door I wasn't expecting. I was invited to interview for and then got the position of Director of Faith Formation/Director of Religious Education/Catechetical Leader II (all synonymous and interchangeable in the Diocese) at a new parish about 30 minutes east of Rochester. So yes, I have moved (again...) and have started a position with more responsibility in a wholly different kind of parish. Today was Day 4 at the new gig, and it was as chaotic and wonderful as could be. For now, I'm staying with friends until I get a place that suits me (hopefully soon!), so most of my things are in storage. It is, as you can imagine, very disorienting. But, it's good change, and I've felt that it was the right thing to do from the beginning.

So God opened this door and I was free to say no or to say yes. I said yes, but I do need more in the way of total surrender. Things at this parish are very different than they were in my last parish, in a million ways and for a million reasons. I'm letting go of things even as I take on new responsibilities and relationships. 

This was literally an answer to prayer. I prayed to God to send me on mission in a like-minded faith community where I felt respected and part of a team. This he has done. The person who invited me to interview is a very good and holy priest I've known from my last job, and we work together like bread and butter. The pastor is very different from my last pastor, most especially in the fact that he is from Kenya! But he, too, is a good and holy man and I look forward to getting to know him more.

I've started to meet the parishioners and volunteers, and will certainly meet more in the coming weeks. What a joy to serve God's people. But carving out a routine and a regular prayer life are essentials to my happiness and my ministry here. That will come in time, too.

Meanwhile, I'm learning my way around these parts, and hoping to spend much more time before the Blessed Sacrament when we move our parish offices into the rectory later this year. My office will be directly next to the sacristy, so literally steps from the Tabernacle. That will certainly help with the regular prayer time.

I'll be more regular with writing and blogging as I settle in (she writes hopefully). There are many other things to write about, after all.

Thank you for your prayers, and be assured of mine.

Mary Queen of Heaven, pray for us.

I Will Listen

A couple weekends ago, I went on a vocation discernment retreat with the Benedictine Sisters of Elizabeth, NJ. It was a beautiful weekend away, and I came home with a renewed intimacy with Jesus. I accept that as long as I am in the world serving in ministry, I need a monthly renewal retreat. That had been a long time coming after months of ministry with no time set aside for God alone outside the normal every day routines. I won't make that mistake again!

I am still discerning my life path and listening. What is Jesus whispering to my heart? For now, I am in Elmira, praying and striving to be present as I help prepare young people for the Sacrament of Confirmation, hold a bi-weekly women's prayer group, and bring Holy Communion to the homebound. I am drawn to the woods, to quiet nature. I am drawn to water in any form - stream, brook, river, lake, ocean. I am drawn to silence and certainly to contemplative prayer. I am drawn to rhythms, seasons, pulses, not the unrelenting march of seconds, hours, and days. I am drawn to moments of life - watching a Chickadee at the feeder in the bitter cold, catching a glimpse of snow dropping from branches in the morning sun, seeing people I love be themselves with each other, unaware that I am observing them and loving them from across the room. 

I am irresistibly drawn to the Eucharist as the Source of my being - that hasn't let up one bit since I began the journey of union with God almost five years ago. My devotion to the Sacred Heart is deeper than it ever was, as my reliance on Him is more acute. I am weak, and gladly so, to rely on Him, alone.

I'm living close to a Benedictine monastery, and my life is certainly benefitting from that association as a novice Oblate. I'm meeting other Oblates (one of whom has become my spiritual director), and forming a community of prayer, slowly but surely. I am following the Rule of Benedict as closely as I can in my state of life, and I pray the psalms with music.

Am I called to some other form of life? Eremitical life? Living alone, consecrated, doing ministry, in the world but not of it. That's a tall order for me - in the world but not of it. The world hounds me with hatred and anger and frustration and dehumanizing voices. Facebook is a parade of hostility. The town I live in, while surrounded by beauty, is rife with poverty, crime, drugs and violence. The same as most places, in other words. On Jan. 1 of this year, I lost a good friend to drugs. Heartbreaking doesn't even begin to describe the maelstrom of feelings this event has evoked in me. Being face to face with this day in and day out makes me cry in agony to God. And perhaps that's the point of living "in the world but not of it." At the same time, if my prayers are more effective than anything I can do or try to do, shouldn't I live the life that best suits and supports that prayer life? I don't feel like that's the life I'm living. Most of the time, I feel ragged and unkempt, spiritually speaking.

My brother recently asked me if my desire to live a monastic life was an attempt at escaping. While I appreciated his concern, I was surprised and slightly irked that after almost five years of me being on this path, he thought this was something to worry about. But it's all good - he's my big brother, and he is looking out for me. But the issue of escapism is a real one -- ironically, his (and my) concern would be better placed on how much Netflix I binge as a form of escape rather than longing for a community to pray with.

The Carmelites live "hermit in community," which sounds like a good fit, yet my journey with the Carmelites of various monasteries did not result in my entrance to any of them. Franciscans - love their joy and deep sense of God in Creation. My time with two Poor Clare communities last year was moving and filled me with great joy, yet in one community I found too much restriction (not enough space), and in the other for some reason, not the feeling of belonging.

So what am I longing for, exactly? Is it the longing for heaven, for the true home of complete union with God in paradise? Or am I still feeling the "more" tugging at my soul here in this life, drawing me toward something else?

My inward journey has brought me as far if not farther than my outward journey has across the U.S.  Understanding and loving myself, releasing people and situations instead of holding them to my expectations, being gentle with myself and with others, knowing how weak I am (and yet how strong), allowing and seeing the integration of the various parts of my own past... all of these things are happening, and I bring them to the Altar of Christ at every Mass.

Yet...  something still tugs, a melody I keep hearing bits of, wafting in and then disappearing.  My only recourse is to stay still with Christ, as He invites me eagerly and tenderly to do. To be patient, and to trust in His Love for me. 

Becoming an Oblate

This morning I woke up feeling refreshed and looking forward to spending the first part of my day at Mount Saviour Monastery. Today is their Dedication Day, when their monastery was first dedicated in the early 1950s. It’s a very important commemoration day in the life of a monastery or church, like a birthday or anniversary.

Some of my family members were present for that initial event in the middle of the last century and were involved with helping the monks as the community grew over the years. As a child and teen here in Elmira, I loved visiting the monastery with my mother. The light-filled chapel in the round with its bell steeple and the beautiful crypt (lower level) with its cool darkness and 13th century statue of Our Lady surrounded by novena candles were more fundamental to my own spirituality than I had realized back then. I still have a book that influenced my love of things mystical and symbolic that I purchased in their gift shop as a tween: The Book of Signs, by Rudolph Koch.

Spring 2016

The community has been active in ecumenical and interfaith dialogue and events since its inception. And the monastery was founded by Fr. Damasus to be truly contemplative, rather than starting and running schools and universities, as many Benedictine communities had come to do. It seems to be one of the few Benedictine monasteries that have kept this charism, apart from Trappist monasteries like the one in Huntsville, UT that was my spiritual home away from home.

Today I was to meet with Brother Gabriel after Mass and celebratory public brunch, to discuss the ins and outs of becoming an Oblate. I wondered what was entailed, and was it right for me? An Oblate is a man or woman living in the world, not in a monastery, but who shares the Benedictine spirituality with a particular monastic community. We had a long talk, covering a lot of ground, and he gave me the names of a couple of Oblate women in town. He mentioned that there is a retreat for Oblates coming up in October, so I asked him if he thought I could become an Oblate before that retreat so that I could go. Not only did he say yes to that, but he offered to make me an Oblate Novice this very day.

I “tested” this against my inner judgment, which is where the Holy Spirit speaks to me, and I found no roadblocks, no warning bells, no stop signs. Just peace and a strumming of quiet joy. And so, around 2:00 this afternoon, I was received as an Oblate Novice at Mount Saviour Monastery, taking as my patron saint Augustine (of Hippo). (He and Therese of Lisieux, my Confirmation saint, have their work cut out for them.)

Monastery church (with Br. Matthew).
Notice bell ropes on the righthand pillar.

It was a very simple ceremony, just the Director of Oblates and myself. Simple, as I’ve noted many times before, seems to be part of my personal charism. I received the Rule of St Benedict and the medal of St Benedict, which I wear now in lieu of the crucifix I’ve worn every day for the last four years. Next year, if I should choose to do so, I will make Final Oblation (which means promise).

How natural this all feels! It’s kind of like eloping after a prolonged engagement. You just wake up and realize “This is it, this is what I’ve been praying for and it’s been in my face all along. Why wait?” From the time I was twelve years old, I’ve loved this monastery, the presence of God so close and so joyful and peaceful. And, you know, it’s in Elmira. Proximity is everything.

I trust in the Lord, for through days darker than any human will ever know, he has never let me go and is bringing me forward into the light so that his will may be done through my life.

Embracing my current state and vocation as a laywoman, I am called to what God calls us all to: holiness. No matter where we are in life, we are being called to be holy and to love as God loves – unconditionally. Our individual lives are expressly unique and precious, created for unique vocations, not cookie cutter versions of how we perceive vocations are supposed to be (whether a nun, a mother, a layman, a priest, a consecrated virgin, etc.).

I give glory to God for having created me, and I thank God for giving me the grace to live this vocation.

St. Benedict, Pray for us.

St. Scholastica, Pray for us.

St. Augustine, Pray for us.

Home Sweet Home

Much has happened in these last few months. Jesus has been whispering in my ear...

In a nutshell, I am now the Confirmation and Adolescent Catechesis/Youth Ministry Administrator for the Elmira Catholic Churches. That's right - I'm back in Elmira, the place I despised for so many years. I came here to visit last summer, and the lure was instant - somehow it felt all glowy and attractive. Now that I'm here, the vibe is even stronger. I am where God has longed for me to be!

My work is precious and wonderful, and my lifestyle is more beautiful than I could have imagined. I live at the bottom of a wooded hill, close to work. I can easily buy local produce, hit the Wegmans for necessities, walk along the river, hang out at Harris Hill to watch the gliders take off, and best of all, I am a few minutes' drive from Mount Saviour Monastery (Benedictine monks).

Compline (Night Prayer) at Mount Saviour Monastery.

The freedom I feel inside is indescribable and beautiful, and it grows with each day. Discernment, as I've noted before, is about relationship with God and letting go of my own agenda. I wanted so badly to be a consecrated religious in a monastery. But after 3 monastery live-ins and a couple of other attempts at connecting with religious communities, it just wasn't happening. So finally I gave in and said to God, "Okay, have it your way. I'll move to Elmira and take the job that's been open for months, waiting for me to say 'yes.'"

More to come here now that I'm settled in and am establishing some kind of routine to my life. I've been dealing with another epic tooth fail, so that's also in the mix, but even so, I won't be so alien to my own blog. I have a new life, so it's time to start writing again.

Discernment vs. Trying to Get It Right

As you know if you read this blog, I am discerning a religious vocation, which means that I feel the call to become a religious sister. A nun, actually, meaning that I am called to contemplative life.

Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent DePaul
http://stpatricksconventschool.blogspot.com
/2012/03/three-nuns-at-ball-game.html

Some folks, well many folks, still think of nuns as circa 1955 with flying buttresses on their heads, vows of silence, self-flagellation, and other eerie and dysfunctional behaviors. For certain, there were some practices that have been done away with. Others never really existed in the first place. 

Active apostolate sisters have been out in the world with and without modified habits for longer than you think. But contemplatives are still out there too, in monasteries both rural and urban. I encourage you to look around in your local diocese or archdiocese for women's monastic orders and get to know them by going to Mass there, or even staying over night in a guest room. 

Back to discernment... it's a journey, as I've posted about before. But it's also a journey that goes in two directions: outward and inward. 

Outward because a woman (or a man) is searching for the form of life that would best suit her, be it marriage, consecrated religious life, or singlehood. This entails meeting with religious, visiting various communities, participating in discernment events and retreats, having a spiritual director, and yes, even dating. These involve seeking experiences and information from outside oneself.

But there's also an inward spiral that's happening, and this is the part that I think is easy to overlook in the attempt to get it "right" or "figure out" God's will as if it were a puzzle. To me, the spiral is the best way to visualize this journey of love. The inward journey allows a person who is open to the promptings of the Spirit to learn more about the person's own deepest self. It isn't a walk in the park, this inward spiral, all butterflies and moonbeams and angel wings and glittery crosses. It means going to the dark places and walking in them with Christ. 

Shutting off these dark places or allowing them to be covered up with various dysfunctions will only lead to misery. It's a spiral because we will meet those dark places several times, in several manifestations. And as I've learned, those dark places will be presented in my relationships with others. The Spirit will make sure of this!

We mirror other people's "stuff" and they mirror ours. The question is, what do we do with that? When someone flies off the handle and has a temper tantrum, I recoil in disgust. But what about when I do the same thing? My history is wrought with a temper that has brought me no end of misery. As I got older, I saw that it was hurting others, and I did my best to manage it. It wasn't until I invited Christ into that very hurt place and started to see why my temper would flare that things started to shift for me. And it was from the actions of another person well in the grip of anger and temper that I was able to turn to Jesus and say, "Wow, dude. I don't want to be like that any more."

How does this relate to discernment? In learning about our deepest selves, our wounded selves, we can invite God into our experience - because that's where God wants to be! - and grow with grace into our best selves. And when we live and move as our best selves, we will naturally grow into the form of life best suited to each of us. We will know as God speaks to our hearts what we are made for, and as we heal and grow in grace, we will be able to walk in that path with others.

St. Catherine of Siena once said that if we are who we ought (who God made us) to be, we will set the world on fire. This speaks to the calling that each of us has to discern who God made us to be, and that includes discovering the dark places - our wounds - that beg for God's healing. In that healing, we will find our true selves. Both the outward and inward journey are necessary to discern anything in life, so it's important not to gloss over the dark places in the hopes of finding easy answers that won't satisfy our longings, and which won't release our unique gifts into the world.

St. Therese and St. Francis

It's late (for me), and I'm tired, but I wanted to jot a few thoughts down.

On Oct. 1 we celebrated St. Therese, and three days later on the fourth, we celebrated St. Francis. I sometimes wonder if I'm called to Franciscan spirituality. Is there such a thing as a Franciscan/Carmelite hybrid community? If there is one, please sign me up.

Here in Utah, and at my job at the cemetery, I am surrounded by God's beautiful creation. I constantly hear Him calling me to "come outside and play (or pray)!" This has been the case since I was a child scampering in the trees and dashing through puddles in our yard on the South Shore. These days, I am quite literally living the vow of "Lady Poverty" I took 2 years ago (as well as obedience to God's will, and a celibate life of inclusive love). I live for daily Mass, for spending just a few moments with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament every morning. Honestly, I couldn't get through my days without Him. St. Clare was extremely devoted to the Eucharist, and Adoration is a part of the Poor Clare charism... it does make me think and wonder, because all of this is very Franciscan, you see.

This past Saturday, on St. Francis' feast day, I was standing at the front door talking with a neighbor friend, and out of the blue, a HUSKY came loping up the steps and jaunted into the house like he owned the place. He went into the kitchen, looked around, then returned to the living room. His human came immediately bounding up the steps to grab him with muttered apologies. But really... what are the chances of a random Husky wandering into your living room?

St. Francis tames the wolf

On the night of St. Therese's feast day, after the Mass and procession at my parish (St. Therese in Midvale), I came out to my car to find a dead battery. 

There have been little nudges over the last 2 years that whisper Francis and Clare, but the louder voice seems to have been dear St. Therese. So who knows. I'm not going anywhere else at the moment; God has given me a real ministry in bereavement and cemetery management.

More on that soon - I promise! In the meantime, please join me in praying for vocations to all charisms, all forms of consecrated life, to marriage, and to single life -- all the variety of lifewalks that God has created to bear fruit.

A season for everything

I have consciously decided not to blog for the last few weeks, because my life took a left turn that I didn't see coming, and I really wanted to see where I ended up before chronicling any sort of epic (or debacle, depending upon the outcome). Because God has blessed me, it's been epic, but anything but a debacle.

Dig it: I am now the (full time) Office Manager at Mount Calvary Catholic Cemetery in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Yes, Utah. Land of "Mormanity" as my friend PJ called it. I'm working for the Catholic Diocese here, and today was my first day on the job. Everything turned around so quickly, I'm still a little disoriented. Here's the timeline:

Aug 5 = realized I wouldn't see a paycheck from the Part Time Job #2 until Oct 1 even though I'd have started working on Aug 25. Hours at Part Time Job #1 had been cut to 12 per week for the rest of the summer. I emailed Sarah, my dear former roommate who now works on Simon's Cat over in London town (she's a 2D animator). I basically said, "I don't know what to do. God is taking away, He's make a space, but for what?"

Aug 6 = Sarah emailed back with a crazy plan: go live with (her) Mom and Dad in SLC where they are both connected in the diocese and can no doubt help me get a job here. They would help me out with room/board until I got my feet under me here, and they will provide a spiritual community that I've been craving ever since Sarah moved out last September.

I said, "yes?" and before I knew it, I had a welcome email from her father and mother, and a job interview over the phone set up for the very next day.

I decided I was going to move no matter what happened with the job at the cemetery. So I did. Donated stuff, boxed stuff, planned how to stuff my car with my junk, and said my tearful farewells to SoCal.

Aug 28 =  My good friend Tanya and I left at 4 a.m. and arrived 7:30 p.m. local time. Phew! The car did great, and so did we.

Sept 4 = I interviewed with the diocese hiring committee last Wed. after the cemetery director had already decided that I'm the one for the job (have to follow protocol, you know).

Sept 11 = Here I am, in my new job, which is beyond any expectations I could've had in a million years. Everything fell together so sublimely that if I had it all planned to the detail, I couldn't have done better. This is when a person says, "God, you must know what you're doing."

Indeed He does.

Working for a cemetery? Yes, it's a beautiful ministry that I wouldn't have chosen myself, but it's such a good fit for my skills and my natural inclinations, and the perks are amazing. Aside from having full benefits, I work in an office with the Director who likes natural light instead of overhead lights, and an open window and a ceiling fan instead of AC. He and the guys who work here (the Crew) planted a garden just outside the office where overgrown shrubs used to be. Tomatoes, zucchini, herbs, sunflowers. I get to walk the park-like grounds any time I like. And I get to drive the John Deere. Bwahahaha!

Today a woman came in looking for her father's grave; she'd never met him, and found out from a sibling that he's buried here. I used my new knowledge of how things are laid out and organized here, and I helped her. She said before leaving the office that we could never know how much this means to her. That's why I'm here, why God has placed me here: to bless me, and to bless others through my work and ministry.

My dear sisters in Carmel are excited for me to start this new venture, which will enable me to become debt free so that I can apply for entrance when the time comes. I cannot believe the amount of support and happy thoughts and prayers I have received. I am all the more motivated to do God's will and build God's Reign. Amen, Alleluia!

More soon - don't want to overwhelm one post. New parish, new ministry, huge garden at home, 2 cats who are adorbs, a new extended family. Pictures to come as well!

Last thought: never ever give up on God. God will never give up on you. Keep thanking God for all that you have, and praise Him for giving you all that you need. Open yourself up to receiving His Love. His Love is everything, does everything, heals everything.

February: it only comes once a year!

All of a sudden, it’s February. How did that happen, I wonder? Something about the earth rotating every 24 hours and then revolving around the sun in a 365-day cycle, and the moon revolving around the earth once every 28 to 30 days, causing the tides to bulge, occasionally there are 29 days in February but not this time, and oh yeah, now that the Super Bowl is over, we can start talking about Spring Training…

Happily, there are some updates for the beginning of February:

I’m into the final copy edit for Black Doves. I’m taking extra time to do this because I’m a perfectionist. ‘Nuff said.

The Spring semester at I.C.L.A. is off and running to a great start. We have 114 students this semester, which is a lot, in case you’re wondering. Normally we have 85 – 95 at the top end. This is the graduating class that was over-enrolled as freshmen, so that’s why there are so many of them. But they are a good group, and my 24 work study students have so far been very helpful.

I’ve begun doing Eucharistic Ministry to the homebound through my parish. I started yesterday, partnered up with a woman who’s been ministering to the homebound for ten years or so. We went to two facilities and did prayer services along with distributing Communion. It is a blessing to all of us. I’m also excited to be volunteering with the St. Francis Center in downtown L.A. to start up an ESL program. We will be setting up a planning meeting soon.

Finally, my discernment process has taken me to a point where I realize it’s not yet the right time to be overly-focused on one or another religious order. I am in communication and relationship with a couple of orders, and still contacting others as I discover them. But right now the reality is that I have debt to pay down and ministry to do while my personal relationship with God continues to deepen. The rest will come in due time, as the Spirit leads me. Letting go of outcome is difficult (I know, I know, what else is new?), especially in such weighty matters. However, I’m getting the message over and over from every quarter: let go and trust Me! Wait for Me! So that’s what I’m prayerfully doing, one step at a time.

On a somber note, last month was the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death. It doesn’t seem like four years. I still have the impulse every Sunday night around 8 p.m. to call her and talk about the week. Last night I was thinking about it, and imagining what she’d say if I could talk to her on the phone. She’d tell me about her day:  who was at Mass that morning, her coffee klatch with her two good friends, Nancy and Sr. Gert, what she watched on TV (she would've watched bits of the Super Bowl in between other stuff), and what she ate for supper. Then we’d talk about my week, what happened at work, the Dean’s roundtable event that we organized last Friday, and of course my discernment process. And I’m certain that she would say, “Just follow God’s lead, honey. There’s no reason to worry.” And that is the best advice I can think of, so I’ll take it.