¿Como Se Dice...I Love It Here?

"Maria mírame, Maria mírame.

Si tu me miras, El también me mirara.

Madre mía mírame, de la mano llévame.

Muy cerca de El que ali me quiero quedar."

- "Maria Mírame"

   Well, here it is: the long awaited blog from Perú. We have been so very busy here, from arriving late on Tuesday night to going to school via the bus to visiting classrooms and sisters to walking all over the city of Miraflores. So far, each day has been filled with aventuras. I have already had a novio (a boyfriend), have told people we were monjas (nuns) and have been called a madrecita (the common name for sisters). We have eaten everything from pollo (po-yo, chicken) to ceviche (fish with lemon sauce). We have had questions from our students from what is you favorite color to do you have a boyfriend to have you met any celebrities. While I cannot speak entirely for my three other peers, and truly mis hermanas (my sisters), I know each day has been so fruitful and blessed for each of us. In truth, I know we are all always experiencing something new. Even though we are traveling and visiting here together, at the end of the day we each have a funny story. So, I cannot really share their stories, as they are always better coming from the person herself, but I can tell you mine. Now keep in mind, for having been here on four days, a lot has happened. So, bear with me but enjoy the aventuras. 

   We started out Tuesday, each of us meeting from our respective homes at the Newark airport. Having traveled so much (I am so very blessed) and by myself, I know the ropes inside and outside. I am the type of person, when traveling in the airport, via airplane, who likes to zip through check in and security then relax at the terminal. Others often like to take their time at check in and security, but me, no. So, that is what we did. We met in the morning, flew through check in and right before security sad our good-byes. While I am not the oldest on this aventura, I have taken on the role of Madre simply because I am a worry wort and I know the other moms were as well. No worries, I told them. If anything bad happens, which it wont but if it does, it is my fault. Hugging my Dad good-bye was probably the hardest thing. My sisters had each headed to school separately and we even got the chance to drop Lizzie off at school. Sister Jean walked her in the door and then said good-bye to me as well. There were no tears with any of my family members, but with my Dad, the longer he held onto our hug, the more our eyes filled with tears. I wanted to tell him not to do this to me, to not make me at the very last minute, regret leaving the country for a month, to regret leaving him behind. I also wanted to tell him not to worry, that I will be okay; but truly there is no guarantee that nothing would happen to us in our travels alone. Leaving daddy was hard. It always is. Soon, we were through security and waiting in the terminal. We made our last phone calls and soon we were immersed in a Peruvian crash course on the plane. And that was just the start.

    Among the conversations between us, the big question was: who is picking us up. I was so proud of my girls for succeeding in customs and baggage check. You would not believe the amount of people waiting at the airport for people landing. Nothing like in the States. We were searching and searching among the sea of people for a small ocean of BLUE. Nothing, nothing, nothing and then: MONJITAS! I yelled monjitas and ran to the sisters. All I heard in response was laughter and "that must be Becca." Right away, I felt, they probably knew me more than I knew myself at that moment. Immediately, hugs and kisses were given from all the sisters. We were ushered out of the waiting area and into cars. Right away, I decided that Sister Eileen drives a mean stick shift. The experience driving in Perú was almost like what I experienced in Jamaica. After I reached more than two hands, I stopped counting how many times we almost died. Not because of Sister driving, but because of the lack of order among the roads and lights. I was fascinated by everything; I could not stop staring out the window. At one point, I told Sisters Eileen and Angélica, about what we ate on the plane. In response, Sister Eileen said: Polo is what you wear, Pollo is what you eat. We were all laughing hysterically. Finally, we made it to the convent and our beds.

    The next day, we had our first experience on the bus. Sister Regina told us: You know you are comfortable in a new country when you can take the bus. It was on this hour long bus ride from Miraflores to Callou that I met my first Peruvian novio (boyfriend). Of course, I barely speak Spanish, so I could not understand anything. Sister Regina encouraged the entire flirtation! I was dying inside, absolutely mortified. It seems that in every country I visit, I am the one, of all people, who gets hit on! In the end, he told Sister that when he comes to Inmaculado Corazón, he was going to bring me flores (flowers), a hat and a shirt with his name on. He then asked who he should ask for when he came and that was when sister told him to ask for the Madre (the Superior of the convent). He was mortified. And so, no more novio. 

     We finally made it to the school and convent, San Antonio, in Callou. We met the sisters, but not the students since it was Report Card day. They were so gracious and beautiful. We had a tour of the convent and the school. I fell in love right away. The sisters were already so good to us. We headed home and then had a free night. I was so tired, I was in bed before nine. The next day, we were on the bus again. Sister went with us just in case, but we were pretty secure. As soon as we got there, the students and the teachers gave us a welcome ceremony and presented with gifts. It was so precious and beautiful. We soon after met our students. While the other girls were in the younger grades, I was in high school and I loved every single moment of it. The olders senoritas speak English very well, but they were so interested in the culture. My job with them is to perfect their pronounciations and help them with grammar. I am in Heaven. They are practicing pronounciation by reciting poesia, mi favorita. They have taught me a little Spanish, but I am there for the English. I love it so much. They are so gracious, so sweet and so welcoming. It has me so excited to be a teacher. 

     We did the same thing on Friday, having lunch at the convent there and then heading home, only on Friday, school lets out early so we were home very early. We took adventage of the time and three of us walked to the market just to look. It is overwhelming how beautiful it is. A little slice of heaven in the middle of the city. We have perfected, almost, the bus riding, since we do it alone now. The first day alone, we missed the stop home, but that was okay since we just walked. But, now we are fine. No problema, si? We have a schedule down almost but still it changes every so often. I love the children, the people, the sisters, the culture. I love everything. 

     There are a few stories significant to only me here, because, while the sisters do not know of my discernment, it still exists and I have been taking every chance I can to be with the sisters. My first companion was Sister Marie who helped me with the Office through Mass and then allowed me to spend breakfast with her. We chatted and chatted and chatted. It is ironic how small this world is; she is from the next parish over at home. Yes, she grew up in Bensalem. We have often had, even in these first few days, many conversations about so much. She is such a dear with so much experience and so many stories. 

    On Thursday in Callou, I got to know Sister Liz very quickly and very closely. She is the novice directress here in Perú, but there are no novices. We had been searching the convent for somebody we she took me into the little Chapel. Immediately, my heart went crazy at the sight of Jesus in the Tabernacle. I told her how much I fell in love, as it was simply made of wood. She found the key and opened it for me, so that Jesus was staring right into my heart. My eyes filled with tears as I proclaimed, MUY BONITO. Sister took her hand and placed it over my heart saying, Jesus is always in your heart. Always. I was so touched by it, that I wrote her a little letter that night. 

     Today, I was so blessed to accompany Sister Lisa to Mass. We walked to the church down the street, Santa Cruz. While it was all in Spanish, just being there was enough for me. Since we have to travel from place to place in the morning, there is not enough time for me to go to Mass. My work then becomes my Mass, but I miss the blessing of the Eucharist. I was so grateful to Sister Lisa and truly, I felt so blessed to be able to share our Mass. 

     Last night, the sisters gave us a welcome ceremony. We had pizza and a few Peruvian desserts, but what was most important to me was the conversation and the laughter. The sisters sang my favorite Spanish Mary hymn, and so, I told them. They asked me where I learned it and I had to tell the truth: at the IHM chapter last year. Of course, the laughed at me. I think they are catching on to my secret. We laughed and conversed for almost two hours before we all decided to hit the hay. It was so beautiful. I love the simplicity of everything. 

     I am so sure there will be many many many more aventuras to come. I am looking so forward to sharing my journey with you all. Thanks for all the prayers, love and support. And please, if there is anything you want to know, just ask. Please pass the word that we are all safe and enjoying every moment! Dios te bendigo!

Adios y Via Con Dios

"Senor, me has mirado a los ojos,

sonriendo has dicho mi nombre,

el la arena he dejado mi barca,

junto a ti, buscare otro mars."

- Cesareo Gabarain, "Pescador de Hombres"

     Typically, when a college student has the "retired dean" as her teacher, she would be nervous and perhaps very wary on taking the class. Me, however? I was ecstatic. While Sister Elaine and I go as far back as my Freshmen year as "Tuesday Pew Buddies," our relationship was merely that. The only interaction that entailed was a secret handshake at the sign of peace that varied weekly. She was the academic dean of the undergraduate students. So, if you saw her, you were probably in trouble. But last semester, she had found herself out from her office and back in the classroom. Poor girl had to deal with me and five of my friends as her only students in her Ancient and Medieval Literature. As quickly as she went from dean to teacher, she went from teacher to mentor. Sister Elaine, in a few short weeks, became well....like a sister to me. 

     I remember it clear as day: yet another MyIU email sent out to cloud every IU student's inbox. Usually, I would read the subject box and if it didn't apply to me, I'd delete it. But this one was different. I opened it and read, realizing it was the trip I so badly wanted to go on: Peru IHM Mission Experience. And who was running to show but Sister Elaine. So, I expressed my desire to go to her but so much was on my plate that I didn't even get to think of what I was going to write for my application when I realized it was past the due date. That's when Sister pulled me aside and asked where my application was. Taking my chances, I asked for an infamous extension and it was granted. I emailed her my application over Thanksgiving and with much enthusiasm, she replied to tell me to start saving now. No one else had heard back. I thought I was dreaming. I said nothing to anyone about anything. It couldn't be true. There was no way I had been chosen as one of the four students to travel to Peru. A few days later, the official email went out and I found myself beginning a new journey. 

     Tonight, I sit here after having just gone to the movies (I'm a little reckless, I know!) and am thinking how blessed I am. Of course, I'm typing away hastily trying to shove the anxiety back down into my stomach. Writing distracts me. That's a secret you should all know by now. It's also what I do best! I still can't quite grasp the fact that tomorrow, I will be leaving my country for another. Not for vacation, not for tourism, but to maybe make a difference. I won't be staying for a week, or ten days, but a month. I won't be living in a hotel, a condo but a convent. I'll be wearing one of four pairs of pants, or maybe one of two pairs of shorts and one of the seven t-shirts I packed. I hope it doesn't rain because the one jacket I'm bringing, isn't water proof. Oh, and I know maybe a few phrases in Spanish. Good thing I'll be teaching English! This may be one of the most spontaneous and nerve-wrecking things I have ever done but it's a beginning to a future I have always desired. 

     I live for those spur of the moment moments where there is little planning and I can fit all I need for this spontaneity in one bag. Well, I have two this time, but that's okay. I desire that simplicity of a world traveling missionary. I want nothing more to travel the world lending my heart and hands to those in need. And here I am, one year after my first international trip to Jamaica, the night before I leave for Peru. I am excited and nervous and anxious all in one, as any of you could imagine. I don't know a soul down in Peru, I don't know much about anything for this trip. All I know, is that I am exactly where God wants me at this moment in time. I know that God is going to take care of me no matter what and I know that this is all part of His most beautiful plan for my life. 

      As I travel tomorrow, I'll be simple. A pair of shoes, jeans, a shirt and a sweater. I'll be wearing an eight dollar watch, a simple silver band on my left ring finger, and my curly hair will most likely be wild and crazy; there's no taming it. I'll be wearing a smile and carrying in my heart all who I leave behind. But most importantly, my sisters and my parents. While this is something I have always desired, this will be a true test and taste of what the rest of my life will be like. Can my parents and sisters let me go? Can they stand not being able to talk to me? Will they be okay? ..... Will I be okay being so far away and so out of touch? People have told me I am fearless. I have no fear of people or what people could do. I seemingly am not afraid to reach out and touch a stranger, or do something so crazy (like leave for a month). But the truth is, I have one fear in this life long mission of mine: can my heart stand being so far away from those I love?

      So to all of you, who are excited and worried and just as anxious as I am for my mission trip, please know that I love you. I love you so much, that the very thought of being so far away from you all, fills my heart with some sort of anguish. But in saying that, I carry you all with me in my heart. I can sleep tonight with no worries because all of you are praying for me, more than I think I can even fathom. I will let my excitement run my dreams tonight. I'm not quite sure what kind of technology I will be blessed with down in Peru. If I could, I'd go without it but I know my parents and many of you will be worrying. So, look for a message here and there from the good ole Peru. I can't thank you enough, especially all my church ladies (and gents) who gave me my final blessing this morning at Mass, for all the prayers and support not only for now and this little journey of mine, but throughout my entire discernment journey. I am so blessed to have such beautiful people in my life. Of course, I kind of owe this all to my dear monjita, Sister Elaine. Thanks, girl. Don't worry, I'll give you EVERY DETAIL about this journey! And so, Adios y via con dios, mis amors. I can't wait to meet and love so many new monjitas and ninos. Te amo!

Quit Playin' Games With My Heart - A Reflection on Decision-Making

"Trust your instincts and make judgments on what your heart tells you.

The heart will not betray you."

- "Fall of Kings," David Gemmell

"Waiting hurts. Forgetting hurts. But not knowing

which decision to take can sometimes be the most painful."

- "Mi Vida," Jose N. Harris

What's black and blue and white all over? A girl tryna' make a decision.

      It's one of the most common questions I get when people bring up my discernment. At first, it was so hard to help people understand that my decision was more than a decision to be a nun. Of course, that was especially so when I would answer questions like: what can you do as a nun? with: well, almost anything. I guess that comes from my teacher attitude; I'll do anything to get my students thinking. But anyway, I have seen the growth in my Parish with their understanding of what my vocation is. The questions have grown from: do you pray all day? and can you wear a bathing suit? to: what will your ministry be? and how long is your formation? Of course, most recently, since I just finished out my Junior Year of college, the main question on everyone's mind is: what community will you enter? And trust me, this question is not just on the minds of my Parish Family but also of the minds of many of my sisters. 

     A long time ago, long before I was born, so many young women were entering religious communities. I have heard stories from so many sisters about why they entered specific communities but most of them all say that they entered the community that taught them or with whom they had the most contact. A few sisters, however, told me that they entered communities that best fit their ministerial desires such as healthcare or teaching or working with the poor. Right along with these women were so many other women realizing a call to serve God's people and convents and communities were flourishing with new vocations on the daily. 

    Today, not so much. I've often gotten the question about whether or not the communities "fight over me" and while I'd love to say that, "yeah, they all just can't get enough of me," that's not true. Between the time of the flourishing of vocations and now, there was a time where it may have seemed a little competitive between communities each buying for a girl's vocation because their numbers were diminishing. But, I thankfully, have escaped that era. I have been so blessed to be able to discern with multiple communities with only a few "competitive statements." 

     But here's the thing: there's a still a decision that needs to be made. At the end of the day, I can't enter all the communities I have discerned with; there's just no way. That notion used to give me a ton of anxiety. I would spend hours and hours in prayer asking God how I was going to let one community know I chose the other one. How was I going to say good-bye to the sisters I knew and loved. The funny thing was: I hadn't even made a decision yet. I would often refuse to bring up one community in another community's presence and yet, I had so many good stories to tell. Finally, instead of saying goodbye to a community, I said goodbye to having to make a decision.

    Last September, I told myself that I have two years left of college and I should spend them free and happy, not tied down to a decision or the anxiety that came with it. I remembered being so eager to enter religious life right after high school and thinking I had my whole life planned out. God thought otherwise. I spent all of last year spending free time with the sisters on campus and then with the sisters at home. The more I let go of the anxiety that came with having to make a decision, the more I was able to get closer with specific sisters. The anxiety of decision-making had become a blockade to personal relationships. Letting go of that need to make a decision allowed me to be more open and listen better to those around me who had such wisdom. The year of taking off from decision-making truly was one of the most freeing years in my discernment. I was able to focus more on my personal ministry as a college student and young person of the church. I was able to freely give of myself without having to worry. How beautiful?! 

     But like I said, I'm coming up on my final year in college. Yep, I'm officially a Senior now. That means: one year until the real world. Ohhhhh great! But what is the real world for a girl who wants to be a Sister? Well, it's simply this: finding a job and paying off loans. I've gotten the questions about what community I'm choosing very frequently in the past week. I have simply answered with a shrug and a basic, "I just don't know yet." Before, I would have gone through so much anxiety just to answer that question. Now, I know that it's okay to not know. God hasn't revealed to me his plan yet, and....that's okay.

      I will be very honest that at times, often when I spend a very long amount of time with a specific community such as last week in Stone Harbor with the IHMs or in Chicago with my CSFNs, I feel like: YES! This is the right fit! I feel so loved here! Then, I switch gears and spend time with another community and feel the same way. I may think that God is clearly showing me the path of life and then suddenly, I feel the same way about a different community. So then, I go back and forth thinking, hey God, quit playin' games with my heart? But He just laughs and tells me it's all for my own good.

     This morning, my two worlds crashed. I decided to go to one of the neighboring parishes for Mass this morning. Often at these masses, I've seen anywhere from two to four religious communities represented. This morning, only two communities were there. Every so often, my school world and my home world collide and it's usually with the nuns. This morning, my "nuns from school" and my "nuns from home" were both at Mass. As I stood up to leave the church at the end of Mass, one beautiful lady dressed in blue tapped me on the shoulder. Becky, she called me. I had only really met her once or twice; I painted her basement pink with a few of my FYE students and fellow school nuns. Yet, she remembered me and really knew me. She began to tell me that her dad knows my aunt who works in a bakery and told him all about her niece who wants to be a nun. However my aunt, who's not Catholic, apparently told him that I didn't know what community I wanted to enter. I didn't even know she understood what that meant and I'm pretty sure I never told her about it. Anyway, her dad told her about my aunt and immediately she thought of me. Meanwhile, as we are talking, a beautiful lady dressed in black and white began her way over to my side of the church. I was grateful to Sister for acknowledging that there is a decision that needs to be made BUT NOT YET and she assured me that no matter what God chooses for me, she will always support me. All this from a woman I barely knew. Finally, my two worlds collided as we stood there, three of use, wearing black and blue and white.

    This meeting of my Sisters was strange and yet, peaceful. I knew though, the moment I left the scene and got in the car, that it was a subtle reminder from God that eventually I will have to make a decision. Yet, I also knew that God will give me the decision when He is ready. And so, for now, I will continue to discern with both communities; I will continue to make deeper and more personal relationships with sisters from both communities. I will not let the anxiety of making a decision rule my actions but rather the peace of knowing that God will show me the way. There is so much to love about both communities and so much good that could come from a vocation to them. But at the end of the day, I will have to make an open decision. Of course, I haven't quite ruled out the possibility of creating my own community. Hmm....

My "Nun-Alcoholic" 21st Birthday - A True Story

"Well, old girl, you look good. 

But, you should probably invest in some anti-aging cream.

From all your laughter, you're definitely going to go wrinkly."

- Sr. Rose Caritas

     "These are your last few hours before you're no longer twenty," Sister Rose said to me.

     "Thanks for the reminder, Seeeeeester."

     "You should probably live it up," Sister Cathy yelled after me as I walked away from Wednesday night's fire pit carrying a box of s'mores supplies. 

      I rolled my eyes as I almost tripped up the stairs inside. I reshelved the box of s'mores and headed up to my temporary home on the third floor. The floor was damp and the room was dark because I forgot to leave the single lamp lit so I wouldn't trip over my shoes. My room was slightly in order, as it usually goes when you're only staying in a place for a few days. At least my bed was made. The windows were wide open, something I had done the previous night, and I could hear the subtle roar of the ocean and the crash of the waves upon the shore. The sea-salt air was the only fragrance I could smell. Well, that and the clothes I had gone swimming in a few hours previous. Despite the anxiety of what was to come the next day, I felt a peace in my heart that only the ocean and nuns could bring me. I felt as if I was experiencing a small piece of Heaven. 

      The sound of my SEARCH Retreat theme song woke me from my sleep at 5:05 the next morning. Rolling over, I hit the snooze button twice and then finally, rolled out of bed. I shuffled down the hallway that could easily be mistaken for the inside of a immigrant ship from the early 1900s. I tip-toed down the creaky staircase in my socks while carrying my shoes and Christian Prayer book. Although no one was actually around, I was trying to be as quiet as possible walking up the pathway to the beach. Suddenly, I smelt a distant skunk spray which I quickly realized wasn't so distant when I saw him with his tail in the air. Needless to say, I ran. 

      "Wouldn't that be a birthday to remember," I said and laughed out loud; it was just me and Jesus out this early.

      The sunrise was covered by some clouds so it wasn't anything spectacular. I found myself thanking God that I made it to another year. For almost an hour, I snuggled with the salt air and the sand. I listened to the sound of the ocean and knew that today would just absolutely be a most beautiful day. 

      A few hours later, our large group of thirty students and nuns galore gathered in the dining room for another beautifully prepared meal before heading to work. I was chatting with my friends at one corner of the table when suddenly, Sister Cathy began directing a thirty second symphony of "Happy Birthday." That song has to literally be the most awkward, most intimidating and most anxiety-providing song in history; I hate it. There's nothing I dread more in the world than being sung that song. But at least it was over now. 

      The day continued like the others had been before for the exception of the occasional birthday greeting and hug from one of my IHM Sisters or friends. Yes, on my birthday I spent half of my day cleaning and scrubbing bedrooms in the Sisters' Summer Retreat house on the beach. I wouldn't have had it any other way. At one point I found a little something on my bed from my dear Sister Mary who I had spent so much time with. She left a card and a package of tissues. Later, I asked her if she left the tissues because she knew I was going to cry when reading her letter. She just laughed.

      After cleaning, we gathered for lunch and then prepared to head to Cape May for the afternoon. We got changed, dressed up a bit and then stood in the street trying to figure out how many vehicles would have to travel. We gathered in the school van, my mom van and the postulant mobile to excursion down the Garden State Expressway. I can honestly say that even though I was driving, having my friends in the back seats literally made it one of the most memorable half hour trips. 

       "We were watching you guys have such a good time from behind you," Sister Mary Jo said when we finally parked. 

       "Uhhhh...thanks!" we responded in harmony.

       We had had the radio turned all the way up and my friends were casually partaking in a self-proclaimed dance party. The car ride was full of laughter and good times. We "landed" and the first place the car full of English Majors headed to was the book store. We simply walked through little stores and admired the nice weather. And I had my first "drink" of a bottle of coca-cola. Two hours went by exceedingly fast and before we knew it we were back in the van and getting lost. It's not a real trip with the nuns unless you go the wrong way on a one way road or get lost. 

       Throughout my day, I received many text messages, facebook wall posts, tweets, phone calls and skype messages. I was laughing and feeling so blessed at every single on, but especially at the skype message I received from my CSFN sisters in Chicago. I showed almost all of my friends because it was absolutely hysterical. My favorite line was: "Now, we can have our glass of wine." I had left my phone upstairs all day but every so often when I got the chance to check it, it was overwhelming how much love I was receiving. Truly, I felt blessed.

       Having spent my birthday with the sisters last year, I had some idea of what was going to happen. I don't ever really like having the spotlight on me, so often, I hide "behind the scenes" and do the back work. So, while every one was preparing for a surprise for the Seniors, I was helping out with the dishes before sitting down again. Of course, one of the sisters said that you can't have a birthday without cake. So, I got to share in on the Graduation celebration and it was beautiful. Especially when my Hispanic lovebugs sang to me in Spanish. They always make me so happy; I love them! After ice cream and cake was served, I snuck into the kitchen to help Sister Elaine with the bigger dishes. 

       Over the big industrial sized sink is a large window that looks out over the bay. The two of us were standing there elbow deep in suds and water when we stopped to admire the sun setting for a few  seconds.

       "Here, finish these. I'll go get the car keys," Sister Elaine said to me as she handed me the last of the ice cream dishes. 

        Before I knew it, I was being kidnapped by my English teacher. I've blogged a few times about adventures with Sister Elaine but this one certainly takes the cake. We drove down the street and found a spot by the bay were we just sat in silence on the old, wooden stairs that lead straight into the water. Every so often one of us would say something, but for the most part we simply sat in silence and listened and watched. The birds were singing from all around. We could hear the sounds of the couple fishing a few feet next to us as well as the lapping of the water against the pier. The sun set was so absolutely beautiful. At that moment, I felt so infinity loved. Suddenly, tears were simply flowing down my cheeks. This was certainly a birthday I could never forget. But it wasn't over yet.

        When we got back to Villa Maria by the Sea, there was an intense game of whiffle ball going on. After some crazy looks from the other sisters, because they suddenly realized I went missing and went missing with Sister Elaine (seriously...the two of us together is a recipe for disaster at times), I was pulled into being permanent catcher for the game. While this worked out fantastically for the first half hour, at one point, my ring flew off my finger with the whiffle ball and we had to pause the game momentarily to find it. Then, the mother in Sister Cathy, gently demanded she hold onto my rings for the remainder of the time. The game ended in a passive truce as it got too dark to see anything anymore so we continued to day with another fire in the back yard. 

       My sense of time was essentially gone that week but especially that day. I had no idea what time it was and it didn't matter. I spent the day full of laughter and feeling so very loved. I usually have such a hard time letting people really love and appreciate me, but so many of my sisters broke through that tough barrier I hold up. I fell asleep that night thanking God for the best 21st birthday a girl could ever have. And the best part was that, it was "Nun-Alcoholic." Yep, no alcohol, just full of my sisters and my friends at the beach. When asked if I was sad I wasn't home and able to go out for my birthday by one of the sisters, I simply said, "Sister, didn't you turn 21 in the convent? I'm just trying to bring back tradition!"

       The next morning, I woke up for the sunrise and couldn't stop thanking God for the most beautiful birthday the day before. After cleaning and packing the car that morning, I found myself sharing a stoop with Sister Elaine. We slowly drank our coffee and simply let the sun warm our faces. In that moment, I knew God was doing something so extraordinary with my life. I felt infinite. 

       I can't thank all the people who I spent my birthday with enough. Truly, I am blessed. It's not every day you here someone say they spent their 21st in the convent and that it was "nun-alcoholic." Yeah, I'm one lucky gal. 

And So It Goes - A Journey of Self-Discovery

"In every heart there is a room, 

a sanctuary safe and strong.

I spoke to you in cautious tones 

and still I feel I've said too much.

But if my silence made you leave..."

- "And So It Goes," Billy Joel

     The other day, I went for a walk. When the weather's nice, or sometimes when it's not, I go for walks...alone. Sometimes, I go just because it's nice out and I am taking advantage of the weather that is a gift to me. Other times, I go for a walk as it has been suggested to me to do. And even other times, I go because if I don't go and get some peace and quiet time to myself, I might actually go crazy. The other day, it was not only a beautiful day that I was taking advantage of, but it was also a day I was feeling much need for peace and quiet. Each time I go for a walk, I find myself in deep, contemplative prayer and conversation with Jesus. So many things cross my mind and reflection overcomes my heart, soul and mind. When I first decide I want to go for a walk, I usually think of who might want to join me on my walk. But, alas, I am reminded quietly that I need this time for me to recharge. 

    While I was on my walk, I found myself, as always, admiring the sunset behind the buildings on campus and over the great valley our campus looks out over. I found myself inspecting the flowers, bending down to touch them, smell them, and in return, be touched by them. I found myself humming along to the latest church hymn Sister Regina got stuck in my head. I found myself closing my eyes, letting the soft breeze just bring me such peace of mind. I found myself smiling and laughing as I felt true Love overcome my soul once again. I found myself once again, in love with Jesus and Jesus in love with me. I felt peace. I had stopped to take a few pictures of the sunset, something I have always been captivated by, and realized through a random interaction with Snapchat, that the sun was perfectly shining behind me. So, while I am not one to take "selfies," I splurged and look how awesome it came out!?! Of course, the photographer in me had to update my facebook profile picture and when I did, my good friend posted: "stop thinking. it's hurting my head watching you think." Later, my aunt posted:  "always deep in thought, Becky." Suddenly, it hit me; how much thinking I actually do.

     In the past two weeks, I haven't been able to sleep "normally." I'm sure many of you have experienced this every so often: you are exhausted and suddenly you lay down in your bed, you head hits the pillow and your mind automatically wakes up. That's how it's been every single night for me. I'll lay down in bed (finally) and lay awake for another two to three hours just thinking...about everything. Of course, this thinking is what I call deep reflection. I am such a reflector, a contemplative, a thinker. In the most recent past few nights, I have realized quite a few things about myself; things I've always known but which have suddenly taken on a new stride.

     I began to think about my personal relationships and my habits. I have always said, a person doesn't truly know me until they've seen me laugh, they've seen me cry and they've seen me laugh until I've cried. This is true because I don't cry in front of people easily. In fact, it may take me years to trust a person enough to cry in front of them. However, there is one personal relationship that came to mind right away. She's someone I have seen literally almost every day for the past three years whether it's randomly on campus, at mass, at work or in our resident hall. If I told you I never cried in front of her, it would be the biggest lie I have ever told. But what struck me the most as I reflected on this relationship was how quiet I usually am with her despite her knowing so much about me. I am so soft-spoken, so reflective, so very quiet with her around. Some of you might be thinking, well how on earth is that possible; she's the girl that never shuts up. Sometimes, this is true; I do often have a lot to say. However, while reflecting on this relationship, I also realized that when I am with my few close friends, silence does not bother me. I could very easily sit with a friend at coffee and not say a word and that's okay for me.

     Often times, many people see me as the boisterous one with tons of energy. Did you know that introverts can have tons of energy around people? It's true. What makes a person an introvert is where they get that energy from. While I may very easily be that loud-mouthed girl you met at orientation, or the one running the show, at the end of the day, I need to go back to my room and be silent and just think for an hour or so. I get my energy from being alone. This is why, in the morning although I wake up at 6:30 every morning, I don't usually have my first conversation with people until about noon. While I spend a good hour with the sisters every morning, usually I just quietly nod or smile but no conversation is had. Even when I first walk into work, I'm quiet and not yet ready for conversation. Also, after stimulating my mind so greatly in class by so much academic thinking and speaking, I have to go back to my room and just be until I feel ready to fall asleep while most of my friends hang out or head to the library with friends. And so, while I can very easily be such a people person, being around so many people exhausts me and I need a little me time to recover from so much activity.

      The other day at work, it was a long and arduous Saturday, I found myself staring out the window, deep in thought when a sister came through the side door and scared the begeebies out of me. "What were you doing?" she asked. I just answered, "Oh...thinking." I think at work that day, I wrote a total of seven poems over 8 hours and a letter. What was I doing while not writing (and answering the phone)? Thinking. I realized I often find myself just thinking at work. Doing nothing but thinking is totally a thing and is totally acceptable in my book. When I was younger, I had a friend who would often visit my house late at night. When it was nice out and sometimes when it was freezing, we would sit outside and just watch the stars either laying the grass or in the bed of my dad's pick-up truck. There would be nothing but silence until finally he would say, "Jeez, Bec, what are you thinking about?"  "Just, stuff, I guess," I would answer. 

      I never really realized how much I think and reflect on life until recently. No one really brought it to much attention, I just sort of came to it on my own. All my life, I've been know as an extrovert. I'm loud when I'm with people, I'm always willing to take chances and go on random adventures. I'm a people person; I know how to talk to people and just talk in general. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I am such an introvert. I long for those periods of my day where I can go be myself on a walk. I long to share time and space with often just one other person without having to say a word. And I know that when I truly trust a person, I don't mind being quiet with them. Of course, it's those quiet moments that really bring me peace.

      The other day, I heard this most amazing song: And So It Goes. Billy Joel has always been a favorite of mine and I was surprised I had never heard this song before. It's literally been on replay over and over as I write this blog post. I have read the lyrics many times and contemplated them. Then I realized that the song expresses how I feel with all people when I really am truly myself. And so it goes, my friends, that this girl who has always been labeled an introvert just openly expressed being an introvert deep down inside. And woah....what a feat that truly was. In the words of one of my best friends and fellow introverts, "It's been nice getting to know myself. And it's kind of cool that this journey of self-discovery will never end, at least here on earth." Every day, we learn more and more about ourselves if we let God show us. And look, in just the past two weeks I have learned so much about myself, it's crazy. If only we could be this open all the time...God just wants us to know who we are and Who it is that resides within our souls. Don't worry, God loves both the extroverts and the introverts! 

For Whom The Bell Tolls

"So this bell calls us all;

Know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

- "Meditation 17," John Donne

     "These are my favorite of all days," I told Sister Maureen when she walked into the front office a half hour before First Communion was set to begin. Usually, when I am at work, I am working on some homework. Okay, that's actually false. Most times, I am reading and drinking coffee/tea. But some times, that reading has to do with a class I am in. Other times, I just find myself writing poetry or letters. It's usually quiet at the Fortress Portress on Saturdays, save for the occasional visitor but Sister doesn't really stay very long. There are rarely any visitors who need to gain entrance through the front door and the phone barely rings. It's quiet, so I open the window, let the breeze come in and sip my tea quietly as I read or write my poetry. But yesterday was completely different.

     Sister Susan came bustling in after 9:15 am Mass and asked if I was ready. Well, for what, I wasn't quite sure. So she quickly and excitedly informed me that the second grade girls from the academy would be making their First Communion in a few hours. Suddenly, my whole day was turned upside-down. No homework would be getting done and probably no reading either as this was a day I really had to pay attention to the front door. Suddenly, I was over-joyed and my heart was ready to sing. Mass was set to begin at eleven and people began coming at ten. I couldn't wait. 

      Of course, my fellow Portress girls know that there is a camera at the front door where we watch anyone who is entering. However, people who rarely frequent the Motherhouse don't understand how the front door works. There's a door bell, you usually ring that. However, people can never find it. So, often we just unlock the door from our seats but when we do, it makes a loud alarm noise. It freaks people out and quite honestly, it becomes a source of entertainment for all of us on big days like these. Especially when the younger children try to open the door. On many occasions, I have unlocked the door for a kid and instead of pulling open the door, he will run in and out of the door a million times until his parents come. Then his parents do the same thing. Trust me, it's actually pretty entertaining. 

     On this beautiful day, so many little children, baby brothers and sisters, were running all over the foyer to the Chapel. I couldn't stop smiling. Anytime there are little ones around, I instantly remember my family, which is full of little kids. I am always, as you may have read, the big kid chasing the babes. Essentially, I take care of them all and it's fantastic. So, I was sitting at my desk in the portress office wishing I was with my family on a beautiful like this and then realizing that in less than a week, I would be seeing them. My two little cousins, Claire and Mackenzie will be making their First Communion. There will be a huge family party at the new big house and all my baby cousins will be there. Of course, this also means I will get to see, hold and spoil my God-Daughter. Seeing all the little ones running in and out of Chapel reminded me of that and I was over-joyed with a few of them decided to make the front office a play room. I didn't mind. I hope the sisters don't.....

      I could literally feel in my heart so much happiness. I heard someone shush in the hallway and I knew that it had to be the girls getting ready to line up and enter the Chapel. I jumped out of my seat and stood in the hallway. Each of the girls had their prayer hands folded, smiles draped across their faces and excitement bursting from their hearts. They looked like little princesses and I wished them all congratulations before they went in. Sister Nancy and Sister Maureen Ruth were walking with the girls and I felt so much solidarity with what they were feeling; pure joy. Then suddenly, right before they entered the Chapel, the bells began chiming and I was reminded of how I feel in love with Jesus. 

      Bells. Bells. Bells. Every time I hear church bells, my heart feels ready to explode. I am suddenly taken back to a Spanish Monastery in the days of Teresa of Avila. I feel like a Carmelite nun working the Garden when suddenly the bells remind me and call me to prayers. Bells are the soundtrack to how I fell in love with Jesus. From my room at school, I can hear the bells of Camilla ring at noon and then at six and then again at seven. When I am at work, no matter what the weather, I always throw open the window at six and at seven just to hear the bells. When I go to Mass at the Motherhouse, like I did this morning, I can only feel so much peace in my heart when Sister Marjorie sets off the bells to signal the beginning of Mass. Whenever I hear bells, I instantly am reminded of this vocation Jesus has placed in my heart and I can only say YES YES YES to Him. 

      Right before the girls entered Chapel, I  noticed Sister Nancy place her hand on the shoulder of the girl closest to her. This little girl looked up at her, smiled and in an instant, I was reminded of how I felt on my first communion. I can only speculate that this little girl may have felt a calling in her heart, but I  know that on my First Communion, I felt it. It wasn't about the party, the presents or the cake after Mass; it was about Jesus during Mass. I couldn't wait to finally have Jesus truly in my heart. And I can distinctly remember Sister Thomasita (God bless her soul) telling me all about how Jesus loves me more than I can ever imagine; that's what First Communion was all about. Without really knowing it, I had this joy, this desire, this longing for Jesus more than just in Communion but to be his bride forever. Oh, thinking about it now even sends shivers done my spine. It's like when you realize that your husband and wife (before you're married) is actually the one. I knew that Jesus was the one at eight years old (technically I was only seven...I turned eight three days later). 

       When I think back on how I fell in love with Jesus, I remember those instances of being at the convent or seeing a sister and just feeling simple awe. I remember wanting to know the mystery of what being a nun/sister was. And every time I would hear the bells, I would wonder what they were really doing. Those bells, no matter where they are, call to me, they fill my heart with such a longing for Jesus. They fill my heart with mystery of what religious life really is. Because as much as I know, I don't know. There is still the mystery there. Of course, as I get older and more into finding the specifics of religious life out (and eventually as I join the community Jesus has prepared for me), the mystery seems to wear off. But every so often, whether I'm standing at my window and I see a Sister walking, quietly, prayerfully down the walkway or I hear her singing in the hallway, or walking the Grotto, that mystery comes back. That awe is re-instilled in me. I know now that sisters are real people who go shopping, who drive cars, who are human and can cry, but there is still a mystery that surrounds them. A mystery that at age eight, I wasn't quite sure meant, but I knew I fell in love with. These beautiful women literally spend each day in love with their creator. And every morning when I go to Mass with them, truly how do we all stop singing His praise?! 

      This weekend, I was so blessed to witness just under twenty little girls make their First Communion. By their witness, the mystery of my love relationship with Jesus came back so greatly in my heart. They do not realize it, but they each helped remind me why and how I fell in love with Jesus. Their little hearts, beating with the ringing of the bells in excitement for this COMMUNION OF SOULS reminded me of my vocation, of the mystery of the sisters and of the mystery in my own heart. And Jesus, I could't be any more grateful. I feel this calling SO LARGE in my heart and I CANNOT keep from singing Your Praise. The mystery is flooding my heart! Thank you, Jesus.

Sometimes the Road Gets A Little Rocky

"Just because you are in a tough situation, 

doesn't mean it has to be tragic.

You are in control of how terrible your situation feels."

- Sister Marcille

    You may or may not have seen the Facebook status that read : The phrase that sums up my week "let's just find a rock big enough for both of us to hide under and call it a day." Yes, I said that. But it was in casual response to something I never would have expected to hear from one of my Sisters: "I want to hide under a rock." Of course, this was as we were attempting to lift the giant, ancient window in her office and after I almost cried in her presence for the third time in a row that week. It was only Wednesday. However, it didn't quite shock me like it probably would have had I been not in a crabby mood. In fact, it was almost comforting; someone else was feeling almost the same attitude. Okay, well, maybe we both wanted to hide away from the world for different reasons, but the point is, we both wanted to hide under rocks. I was tired of crying and she was tired of meetings. But that's life, I guess. 

    Many of you know me as the girl with the perpetual smile. The truth is, I have found ways to always keep positive and to smile through anything that is upsetting me. However, this doesn't mean that I don't have days where I am just in a complete Debbie Downer mood. On these days, I usually avoid all kinds of civilization and stick to myself. So essentially, I am always in a smilely mood because most people only see me when I have tons of smiles to give. Of course, duty calls and one must go to work and to class even on days when she might rather just stay wrapped up in her blankets in her bed. Last week, I was seemingly in a perpetual Debbie Downer mood and while, I tried to avoid people so as not to have my bad mood rub off, I still had to come in contact with a few people. 

    So here's the background. It's the final two weeks of school. That means, finals, finals, finals. Of course, as an English Major I am so blessed to be given papers in lieu of finals. However, I'm also half an Education Major and so, my finals consist of teaching lessons to my class. As of now, I have one paper to worry about, four discussion boards to finish, a lesson plan to do and a Theology final. Almost done. However, at the beginning of last week, the workload was definitely doubled and I had no desire to do any of it. I was wishing I could be back at home with my little sister who has seemingly been putting up a daily fight to go to school. 

    As the oldest sister, I am always worried about my little sisters and this new knowledge of little Lizzie was worrying my heart out. I actually wanted to just scoop her up in my arms and snuggle her "all the day" (as she always says). I wanted to protect her, love her and squeeze her close. Having to go back to school was the hardest thing, especially with only two weeks of school left for me. Needless the say, I spent Sunday night almost sobbing because I was so worried about her. But, that same night, from one big sister to another, my Sister gave me endearing words of support and a hug to get me through the night. As much as that helped, I still wanted to hide under a rock and when I saw her two days later, she was feeling the same sentiment. 

    It seemed that as the days went by last week, I felt more and more worry in my heart for my little sister....and for my upcoming finals. I am grateful for those who let my introvertedness be fully expressed, namely my Sister. She wouldn't really say much, except ask a few questions, already knowing the full situation my heart was in, and give me something to smile about or to take my mind off of things for a while. She had become so gentle with my heart as if she was holding in her hands the must expensive and most fragile piece of China porcelain. She was honest, she was true, she was gentle; so, so, so gentle. It humbled me but it also let me embrace the emotions going on in my heart. By Wednesday, after mid-day Mass, I found myself wiping salt water off my cheeks as I prayed and prayed and prayer. And in that prayer I was given the image of that rock we had both wanted to hide under. Ironically, I was also given a choice. 

    There are plenty of days when we each want to hide under a rock. Last week, was my week of days of wanting to run and hide under rocks. Even in class, another Sister told me that I looked as quite miserable, even after she presented me with an A on my final paper. Anyway, for some people, their rocks could be their beds or their rooms where they hide away from the world, or maybe a secret place they go to on their own, like the beach or the park or a specific bench by the river. We all want to hide, because like Adam and Eve, we don't like to feel vulnerable; wanting to hide is part of human nature. However, just like Adam and Eve, we are given a choice. God will provide us with the rock when we need it, but we can choose to do one of two things with it: lift it and hide under it OR stand on top of it, throw our hands up in the air and let God take care of it. At that moment in Chapel, when I was presented with this image and this decision, I had realized that I wasn't wanting to hide under the rock; I was already under it. 

      I was given the choice right then in Chapel to either stay under that rock or climb out from underneath and stand on top. I still wanted to hide under my rock, I still was searching for a chance to sob about my life, I was still searching for a lasting hug. I mentioned all of this in prayer and was told, you can cry to Me, My Arms are wide open to hug you, My princess. So, slowly, I began to climb out. I cried because I knew I couldn't control anything that was happening in my life because losing control is so scary. However, I soon learned that losing control was also so freeing. The true climb out from underneath my rock began early Thursday morning when I realized that the lesson plan for the lesson I was supposed to teach my Honors Juniors class was not in my bag, but at home in my room at school. Oops. I had no control over the situation and so, I said, "Jesus take the wheel." 

     Later that day, I unpinned the bobby pins in my hair and let my curls go crazy as I rolled down the window in Cameron's car. Seriously, my curls, when UNCONTROLLED, are actually crazy crazy crazy. It may not mean much to anyone else, but to me, letting go of the little things I could usually control really helped with the letting go of things I couldn't control. Before I knew it, I was standing on top of my rock, throwing my hands in the air, proclaiming that God was wholly in control and there was nothing I could do about anything but pray. 

     On Friday, I was proclaiming to the world that I was the happiest I had been all week. At Mass that afternoon, my secret handshake peace giver shook my hand but instead of letting go, she held on until I turned back around. Laughing, I asked her for my hand back. But instead of giving me my hand back, said, "I just want to say that it's good to see your beautiful smile again." And in that moment, I felt somewhat infinite. And I guess that's what truly giving all control to God does for a person; it makes her feel infinite. 

     I can honestly say I learned an extremely valuable life lesson this past week. Well, actually a few. It's okay to cry, to sob and let people see you. It's okay to be human (shocker). It's okay that when you really need a hug so you can cry, to ask for a hug from your Sisters. And finally, when faced with a rocky road, you can choose to either hide under each of them or stand on top, conquering that rock, that mountain, and throw your hands in the air, giving all control to Jesus. Sometimes the road gets rocky, there's no doubt about that. But we get to choose how that rocky road affects us. It's always good to cry about things, to truly embrace the emotions God has blessed you with, but remember that hiding does no one any good. It's the standing atop your mountain and letting God take that control. Trust me, He's got this. And if you need a hug, He's more than willing to give you one. Promise.