Being Bread, Blessed and Broken

"Bread, blessed and broken for us all.

Symbol of Your love from the grain so tall.

Bread of life You give to us, 

Bread of life for all."

- Michael Lynch

    It's been a very LONG time since I've blogged but let me catch you up why before I get into this post. Once I arrived safely home from Peru (I still miss it every day...more and more as each day passes...), I was well on my way back to IU for ten days for Orientation Training and then four intense days of New Student Orientation. I left our second session of Orientation a few hours early (after having a sweet and much needed chat with Sister Cathy) and headed for CREW (Community Rocks Everyone's World). I went from one community of sisters to another and back again. I went from convent living to residence hall living to convent living in a residence hall setting. In the process of those two weeks I did a plethora of things such as: meet tons of new people, fall in love (again and again), work my behind off in sweltering hot conditions, reflect and lose a lot of sleep. I wouldn't trade these past few weeks for anything in the world because I am a true believer in the fact that I am always exactly in the location that God needs me in. That is, I know that wherever I am, with whomever I am, I am always where God intended. However, that wasn't all. As you can well imagine, I did an awful lot of thinking. Doing a lot of traveling alone (eg driving in my car) gives me a lot of time to think and reflect on my life, where I have been and where I am going. 

     It started when I left my residence hall early Saturday morning to drive home to Mount Nazareth for Mass and then to help my dear CSFN Sisters set up and prep for CREW 2013. It typically takes me about 45 minutes to an hour to get from Croydon to IU and vice versa. It was smooth sailing down the turnpike that early in the morning and I couldn't help but praise the Lord all the way there. I was going to see my dear Sister Bernice one more time before she headed back home to CT AND celebrate Mass with my sisters. Most of my thinking on the way home was about the previous week I had had at school during training and then during the first Orientation Session. I had met many new students, bonded with my already very close friends and shared a bit of my Peru experience with them. 

     After Mass, breakfast and set up, I was soon on my way back to IU. Since I was already in the city, I decided to head home by a different way. However, since I was away for a month, I had forgotten about the miserable construction and traffic route 95 provides at any time during any day. The normal one hour ride took me two and let me tell you, I was not a happy camper. I finally made it back to school and jumped right back into Orientation mood only to jump right out again on Tuesday as I started CREW. 

     I arrived at CREW just in time for supper and left shortly after to attend a viewing for a dear and very loved Parish family member. It was so difficult to hold back my tears as I said goodbye to one of my number one cheerleaders here on earth. She was always uplifting me and doing her best to keep me in prayer and thought. The line was longer than imaginable and even there I did some of my best reflection and prayer. Standing among my Parish family there was tons to think about and think did I do. 

     I can honestly say that in the past two weeks I have experienced a lot along the emotional and spiritual roller coasters. I was struggling to truly find words to speak about or even write about but I couldn't. No, not until Wednesday evening when we were sitting as a CREW and CSFN Family during Sister Romuald's funeral. The dear woman, one who I have blogged about once before, was in her nineties and had lived a most beautiful life. The chapel was filled and so, we girlies had to bring with us into chapel chairs from the dining room. I sat by myself in the back as a mother looking upon her CREW children and as a little sister looking with awe upon her older sisters and wisdom figures. For the first time in a very long time, I realized, I was able to belt out the hymns during Mass and sing in harmony with many other beautiful voices. I realized this as Sister Josepha played "Bread, Blessed and Broken" on the organ and my heart began to leap for joy in this realization. The next morning all my thoughts from the past two weeks hit me...

      Bread, Blessed and Broken. This song, for any Catholic, is an obvious one; it's all about Jesus. It's about Jesus becoming the Eucharist, the bread and the wine we drink. It's a song begging Jesus to come into our hearts and minds to ease the pains and to make us whole again. It's about proclaiming one's love for Jesus from the very beginning of life to the very end. I found the song so fitting for the funeral of Sister Romuald and then the next day, found it so fitting for my life. You see, I took that song for a very deep reflection. In fact, I was almost scrambling around for a pen in the middle of Mass. But I knew no one would have one so I tried really hard to remember...and to sit still. We are called, as Christians, Christ to others. That is, just as Christ took on flesh to save us, we are to put on Christ and be Him for the world. Jesus, at every Mass transforms from bread to Eucharist, blessed and broken. And so, if we were to become Christ, we are to become Bread, Blessed and Broken. 

    In my life, I can honestly, I have been through many trials and tribulations. Because I have been bread for others in my personal putting on of Christ, I have been so blessed. But, like many, I had forgotten that being bread for others also entailed me as broken. Often when I am aching and I feel like my heart is breaking, I question God. I ask Him why on earth things hurt so much. Why do things such as leaving someone you love or having someone you love leave you, hurt so much. Well, it's a three fold reflection here. 

    I have learned easily to love much and love many (all). I can easily love those around me and those who seem so far away (my dear ones in NOLA, Jamaica and now, Peru). You saw me write in the course of the past two weeks, I have fallen in love. Yes, I have. Not for the first time and not for the last time. I met new people and learned to love them quickly upon first meeting them and without judgement. But I also spent a lot of time with my very close friends, both guys and gals, with whom, I felt a much deeper connection by the end of the week. Bread, as you know, especially if you eat it, fills one up. It reduces hunger quickly and often, is a staple at many meals. Being bread calls for me to love and fulfill the need for love in others. Falling in love was easy, I had that part of being bread down pat. Although, and I'm not quite sure if Jesus (or actual bread) experienced this, but sometimes I can fall in love too far. While this happens on rare occasion, I can sometimes find myself falling a little further in love with one of my very close guy friends. That may or may not have happened this week. Regardless, it usually nevers goes much beyond me thinking how great of a husband that young man may be. I often can't help falling in love with everyone. 

    The blessed part also comes very easy to me. You see, I have learned (not perfected) to see God in maybe of my day to day life situations, even in the unfortunate ones. Just like Laura Story says, "Maybe Your blessings come through raindrops." I know that I am so blessed. At the end of every day, I thank God for all the blessings with which He provided me. At my waking each day, I find myself thanking God that I awoke that morning. Sometimes, if I am experiencing a case of the Debbie Downers, I will answer your "How are yah?" with an, "I'm alright, I'm alive." I know that whatever God sends me during any day is what I need. I may not know it at the time, but I know that I can trust Him. Perhaps this might be the easiest part of being bread. 

    The hardest part is this: the suffering. Of the many things I have experienced in the past two weeks in the transferring of two of my closest sisters. And when I mean closest, I mean, I can already feel the distance between us. I have experienced this time and time and time again and I know it is a part of religious life regardless of the community. I thought that I had come to peace with the fact that moving is a part of life. I told myself, if I am not okay with it now when others are transferring, how am I ever going to be able to handle it myself when it comes time for me to leave a place I have so long called home? And so, I thanked God for the blessings of Facebook, Email, Telephone and Skype. Even though the sisters who have moved far away have been so close, I took it all to prayer and came to the peace. However, this time around it seemed to hurt a little bit more. Why? Well I'm not too sure. But perhaps  it is because it feels like the wounds have been reopened. I know there is always a means to communicate, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt to feel the distance. And yes, I know the pain is all part of being human, so I embrace it. But it still stinks....alot. 

     The truth is this: I have realized that the brokenness of being bread comes first. Whether it is to my sisters, my family, my friends or those I am just meeting for the very first time, I must give them a piece of myself. I am the loaf and in loving them, I must break off a piece for each person I come in contact with. I, without realizing, had already been broken so many times. But, I never really thought about it in this way. It is allowed to hurt, because Jesus hurt. Jesus was just as human as you and me and He hurt, too. He was broken in so many ways, when He lost Lazarus, when He was beaten on the road to Calvary, when He felt betrayed. He was broken to give of Himself. We are broken not in the literal sense but rather figuratively. We are broken to give ourselves to one another and we are broken because we are human. And with the brokenness of giving a piece of ourselves to every person we meet, we are blessed tenfold in return. 

      After reflecting on this, after falling a little too far in love again, after experiencing the pain of losing those I love both from this earth and in the transferring, after experience intense graces and prayer in the past two weeks, I can honestly say I know now what it means when God calls us on to be Bread for the World. We are called to be Bread, Blessed and Broken and by george, I think, that with the help of many, I can do it.