Just As Planned (by God)

"Well done, good and faithful servant. 

Come, share in the joy of your master."

- Matthew 25:21

    I do not believe in coincidences or irony; I believe in God-winks. I believe God has such a grander plan, beyond our human understanding, and that He will seemingly make it all work out right. For example, last week when I went to visit Sister Elaine and in my heart's deepest desires, I was longing for the opportunity to pray with my Sisters again. It was all in God's plan that I would wind up sitting there in my favorite Chapel, trying not to giggle my way through prayers with my Sisters and soon after join them for dinner. God's plan. 

     But sometimes our plan doesn't always match up with God's plan. You see my plan was to visit a few of my Sisters after observing at a high school near my college on a professional development day for the school at which I now teach. My plan was to go finally meet my dear Sister Marian, check in with my dear Sister Cathy, and visit a bit with Sister Jane, who they told me was not doing well. That was my plan, to see my girls. But God had a different plan. 

     On Friday, January 16, 2015, God called Sister Jane home. The email announcing her passing went out a few days later and I instantly started crying. I had planned to see her only a few days later, one week exactly after Sister Elaine told me that she was sick. But God had a different plan. Of course, I knew that. I couldn't be upset about God's plan being different than mine because I would live my whole life miserable if I did that. But I did mourn the loss of a dear friend, my dear Sister. 

     As I laid in bed that night, memories of my dear Sister played through my mind like a movie. Sister Jane sat in the pew ahead of me for all four years of my time at Immaculata. A pew ahead and then to the right. She had the middle seat. Every so often, she'd pass me a note before prayers on a yellow sticky, written in perfect cursive pencil. I'm pretty sure I still have the one from one particular snowy day Sophomore year when I showed up very early for Mass. Well, it wouldn't have been early if prayers weren't in silent, but they were and I didn't get the memo. She slipped in gently behind her, then turned to me as I took it, smiled gently and continued her rosary. 

      Every morning we celebrated Mass in the Gillet Convent Chapel, during the sign of peace, she would turn around, shake hands with everyone else and wait for me. When she shook my hand, she always wrapped both her hands around mine, smiled and tilted her head a bit to the right. Every day. Sometimes she would wave over her shoulder when I knelt down behind her. And on Sunday mornings, when she was there for Mass, she would wait until I was walking out of Mass just so she could thank me for singing. In all her gentle ways, she was gracious and prayerful. 

      Of course, there are so many more memories. I can't say how many times she introduced me to all her friends in the cafeteria. She definitely had a lot of friends, who liked ice cream and meeting students. She was a popular lady. I also can't say how many times she cured me of random illnesses. "Sister, I feel nauseous every morning." "Drink water. Eat peanut butter crackers." The next day, I'd be handed a bag of peanut butter crackers. Cured. She always cared so much and would do everything in her power to help a girl (or guy) out. It was those little day to day interactions with her that were always my favorite memories. Her smile. Her gentleness. Her all around beauty. 

     My favorite solo memory though? Well, let me preface this with some basic information. I went to an all girls' high school. By October of my Freshmen year of college, Sister Jane had asked me if I had ever thought of religious life. So, she knew about my high school background and that I was thinking of being a Sister. She had also cured me of two mysterious illnesses. I had apparently been sitting in the cafeteria at a random table surrounded by young men...boys. I didn't think anything of it. However, later, as I was walking across campus, Sister Jane stopped me. She asked me if I was feeling under the weather at all and when I asked why, she responded with the following: Well, I saw you sitting with the boys and I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I giggled a little and told her about my wholesome, Catholic young boy friends. She gave my hands a squeeze and promised to keep praying for me. 

      I can honestly say that my plan wasn't to fall in love with the Sisters at school or even become good friends with any of them. But God had a different plan and put each Sister into my life in a different way. Sister Jane was a gentle soul who was always looking out for me in little, gentle ways. Her gentle smile could be seen from across campus as I raced to catch up with her or down the hallway from my education classes. Her gentle hands always held mine every time we met. She was a hand-holder like me. She gave great hugs and I knew I could always count on her putting me on the right page if I was lost during Morning Prayers. Sister Jane could be seen coming off the Lourdes elevator and going on some adventure with all of her friends or simply to the convent. Whatever she did, wherever she went, she was gentle. She was, perhaps, one of the most gentle people I have ever met. 

      I hadn't planned to go into Camilla, hug all my Sisters, and cry right away. But I did. Of course, I also didn't plan to find one Sister and kind of dog follow her throughout the viewing. But God planned it perfectly that when I walked through the doors, Sister Mary walked out right in front of me. And she took me into the room where I received many hugs from many of my Sisters. During the Funeral, I was sitting by myself, praying that I'd be able to cry in the comfort of a Sisters presence, and God's plan was that Sister Monica would find me soon after I whispered that prayer. And as I knelt there in prayer, I realized that two years ago prior, we were mourning the loss of another dear sister of mine, Sister Albert. I don't believe in coincidence or irony, but I believe in God's divine plan. I could imagine Sister Marie Albert welcoming Sister Jane home - Sisters. 

     Throughout Mass, I had a steady flow of tears running down my cheeks. Once again realizing that my friends are significantly older than me and this was not a new experience, nor an experience that would expire soon. I mourned in a different way than I'm sure my Sisters did because Sister Jane was someone different for me than she was for them. But Sister Trin said something that truly made me feel still parted of the extended IHM family: "It just wouldn't be right if you weren't here." It was a reminder that I was allowed to cry and to mourn the loss of my friend, my sister. 

     I kept thinking about what Sister Trin said throughout Mass. I kept thinking about home is always where my Sisters are. I kept thinking of all the perfect little moments Sister Jane and I shared. I kept thinking of how I felt so much sadness for not being able to see my Sister and hug her one more time. I was upset that my plans didn't work. But slowly, as I kept reflecting, I realized that I did get to see Sister Jane on the day I planned...just in a very different way. It was at this moment of realization that I looked up the ceiling of Camilla's Chapel. There was one single tile missing. I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I laughed thinking about a song I heard on the radio when I was a child. It's called, "Hole in the Floor of Heaven." Okay, so it wasn't a hole in the floor of heaven, but for me it was. It was a reminder that as much of my life that I didn't plan, God's plan has always triumphed. Yes, as much as my type A personality will hate to admit, God's plan is always better. Sister Jane will always be with me, another guarding angel up in Heaven for me. My plan isn't always the best plan, or the right plan, but God's plan is. I may not always agree, but if I surrender to God's will, I know everything God wants for me, will happen. I got to see my Sister just as planned.  

     My dearest Sister Jane, thank you for every gift of your smiles, your love, your gentleness. I am so blessed to have had you in my life. Ready the way for a homecoming when we meet again (I'll bring the ice cream.).