This Is Home - Chicago Take Two

"I am home.

Trust in me.

From today, that is all I need to say is....

Don't you know how much you've changed me? 

Strange how I finally see.

I found home.

You're my home."

- "The Transformation," Beauty and the Beast 

     After a long fifteen hour day on Thursday, I called Sister Michele and double-checked the solo flying protocol. All I had to do was print the ticket and the next morning just go through to security in the airport, she confirmed. And so, Mike and I went to the Library to print my ticket. Then, after a series of venting sessions, dinner at Applebees and some homework, I finally finished packing around 2 am. For a few hours I slept in my bed before getting up and going for a run. A nun run, that is.

     I went to bed Thursday night knowing that I would not have time for a nap and I would probably be exhausted by the time I landed in Chicago. But there was an energetic flame in my heart. Within a few hours, I knew I would be seeing not only my AE but also my beloved Chicago Nazareth Sisters. I remembered clear as day how nervous I was about going last year for the first time. I didn't know anyone. Okay, I barely knew a few of the sisters.  But still it was a new place and a new mission and a new experience. I was slightly terrified. This year, however, I was super excited. I was so excited that even the notion of flying solo (I'm flying solo, solo, solooooooooo....) didn't phase me! I was so excited that before the plane even left the ground, I was passed out solid between a few business men and a dad. Before I knew it, the plane was landing! Now there were merely only minutes before I would see my AE! MINUTES!

     I got the warning not to step outside until she texted me. Like a good kid, I obeyed. And when I finally did get the text, I was glad I had listened. Talk about 11 degree weather with a 7 degree wind chill. YIKES! It was FREEZING! Right away bustling conversation took place! Of course! It had almost been a MONTH! And soon, we were pulling into the Provincialate Parking Lot! There were plenty of new sisters to meet and plenty of old friends to hug! Honestly, it was just like walking through the back door of a place I called home. I placed my things in my room in the 2c wing and headed back to help the Coach of the Nun Run team (AKA my AE, Sister Michele) prepare for the Nun Runners. 

      What's this jargon, you ask?! Well, a Nun Run is just that. A group of young women get together and run to the nuns. This year, the nun runners (myself included) were starting at the CSFN Convent (where I just happened to be staying anyway). A few vocation directors from various communities in Chicago joined us for dinner and a Vocation Panel during which we not only asked millions of questions but also heard so many great stories of the sisters. The sisters that joined us ranged from full habited, new communities to very ancient communities to communities without habits and so on and so forth. What was the most beautiful story, I felt, was Sr. Elyse, OP's description of charism. She told us that a charism is the light that shines forth from a facet in a beautifully cut diamond. The light is the same for every community, but the difference is how the light shines through! How beautiful?! We ended the first night of the nun run with The Trouble With Angels. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. SHORT CUT.

       The next morning was an early one as we began with Mass. I fell in love with the priest who gave such an energetic homily where he not only engaged the congregation but also told extremely intriguing stories. Like I said, in love. Soon after we had breakfast. The girls were surprised by the AWESOME breakfast we had, but let's be honest: there's always good eats at the convent! And then we trekked out in the three inches of snow to visit the Carmelites. 

        Sister Teresita (little Teresa) greeted us at the turn and asked us for our special intentions before we headed upstairs to the speak room. In the speak room, behind the grate (I wish I had been able to take a picture....) there were a plethora of brown habited sisters and two German Shepherds. For two hours they spoke to us about the life of Carmel, vocations, life in general and told us so many stories. It was as if they spent all day in silence....oh wait. They do! It's one of the most beautiful things about Carmel that I love: the peace and silence! Contemplative life is the life of my soul. However, Apostolic life is the life of my hands. I could never make it as a Carmelite, not because I can't ever shut up (although some would argue this is the main reason....) but rather because I know I am meant to touch people and help them heal. I can't necessarily do that from the cloister. However, there will always be that longing, that senhsucht, in my heart for the life of Carmel. 

       Next on the Nun Run were the Sisters of the Resurrection. We spent lunchtime with these sisters and how beautiful our time was there. In fact, one of the sisters here knew one of my close CSFN sisters from home. What a small world (and confirmation!). After a beautiful prayer service, we headed on out to visit the Felician Sisters! One of the sisters who was with us, struck up conversation right away with me. Even though she was telling us many stories in the car, it wasn't until we got to the convent that her and I really got to talk. I felt as if we connected right away, before we even had a conversation. Here's the kicker, I was the only one who really understood her word for word. She's from Poland. As we were headed into Chapel, she whispered to me that I was fall in love. And boy did I ever. It was like a mini cathedral hidden like a diamond in the rough. As part of our visit with the Felician Sisters, a few other Vocation Directors from the area joined us for what they call an Emmaus Walk. This is when we each get paired with a Sister by luck of the draw and walk with them to share stories. As I was handed the pile of names, I prayed that I was meant to have a sister who would understand me. I was blessed with Sister Eliana, the Polish Sister who I connected with earlier. I thanked God, because in my little heart, she was the sister I was praying to walk with. And so, we did. We walked and shared and understood. I told her how I understood her so well and we shared much wisdom! I felt so blessed. 

        There was one more stop on the nun run and that was at the Convent of the Sisters of Charity. It is here that I discovered that in Chicago, they cut their round pizza into squares. Yeah...very strange. And I let the Philly girl out of me when I said it was so weird. Of course, at that time I was still saying soda and not pop and getting strange looks. We prayed here, too, with the sisters which was beautiful! And we always received prayer partners. Ironically, when I first sat down in the living/community room, I had no idea my Prayer Partner, Sister Marsha, was sitting next to me. At the end of our time, it was revealed to us and I couldn't help but think how great God is with His poetic foreshadowing. God must have been an English Major!

        My exhaustion was running high as we piled into the convent car and headed back to the CSFN convent. Except, I was the only one staying again. I kept thinking to myself, I can't wait to hop into my pj's and get some sleep. AND IT WAS ONLY NINE O'CLOCK. But then somehow, I ended up in the 2B community room around the corner with Sister Maria Sophia, Sister AE, and Sister Gabriella. FOR THREE AND A HALF HOURS. I edited Sister Gabriella's paper, we skyped with Sister Cordia in Philadelphia, we chatted tons and tons, and after Sister Maria Sophia and Sister AE trickled off to bed, Sister Gabriella and I stayed up chatting some more. 

     You see, she's also a college student and most of her energy is spent during the night. Staying up til midnight (or later) is normal for both of us and there was plenty to catch up on. She's always been one to ask me "So, when are you entering?" And I've always given her the quick answer, "I don't know." It's not a pressure filled question, but rather a question from one big sister to her little sister. It's exactly how when I ask Mary, my little sister, when she is coming home. I always get an indefinite answer. This time, however, I was able to really put into words my fears, my joys and my duties. Finishing school, getting a degree and a job and paying off loans all have to be done before I can enter. The loan thing is the biggest hurdle. But then, how do I leave home? How would I survive a community where so many sisters are almost old enough to be my parents (no disrespect intended!)? How could I do  it? And she gave me so much insight. I honestly felt like I was confiding in my big sister and she was giving me counsel and HOPE!

       The next morning, I joined the council for prayers and breakfast in their wing. Later, I joined the rest of the sisters for Sunday Mass during which we celebrated: Consecrated Life Day, a 51st Wedding Anniversary for a local couple and the feast of St. Blase. When I sang, as a mere member of the congregation, I truly felt my heart sore. It was a true recognition of truth, beauty and home. Right after Mass, a good group of us ran out the door in six inches of snow to see the High School Production of Beauty and the Beast at St. Viator High School where Sister Maria Sophia teaches. I can honestly say that as many times as I have seen Beauty and the Beast, I have never cried so much during it. It was just so well-done and simply beautiful. Of course, I obviously found so many connections to what I was feeling that weekend.

       The good news that follows this, is that we made it back just in time for supper and the Superbowl. Of course, my interest in football is about a negative 54%. So, while the majority of the sisters were watching, and a few others were doing homework, school prep work and council work (or playing Words with Friends....) I was teaching Sister Luke how to not only add contacts but take pictures and set them as caller IDs! I knew the lesson was successful when she called me later from upstairs just to check the score of the game! We made it to the end of the game where the emotions were running high in the room. Of course, I was busy snacking on the AWESOME Buffalo Chicken Dip made by the always lovely Canonical Novice, Sister Faustina! At the last 13 seconds, when the Ravens took a safety shot, the sisters were on the edge of their seats. Half the room was voting 49ers, and the other half was voting Ravens. At 34:31, it was so close! And finally....finally, the room exploded in cheers as the Baltimore Ravens came through with the wind. It was almost ten o'clock by then. 

       Oh how I so wanted to sleep. But there was a subtle invitation from Sister Gabriela. Of course, I did the natural college wake me up and took a hot shower. Which, mind you, every time I took a hot shower, I thought I set off the fire alarm because half way through the shower, the water just starts SCREAMING. Anyway, quickly into my PJ's I went and headed softly down the hall to her door. She jumped up, grabbed the blanket and a movie and ran with me (like sisters..) to the community room to watch it. Of course, it was a new movie for me and yet, a movie she had "known well." I was crying, she was crying, we were laughing and gasping and yeah...it was a good movie! By 12:30, I was exhausted again and had no problem falling asleep. 

      The next morning at 5 am, I quick jumped out of bed and met Sister Maria Sophia in the lobby. We headed out in what was now ten inches of snow for Mass and then a long day at St. Viator High School. There I observed different English and Theology classes as well as shared my story. Who was I? Where was I from? What was I doing there? It all came down to a mere college student who wants to be a nun. However, at one point I got introduced as a nun and I had to smile and say, nuns don't normally where mascara  or eye liner. Before I knew it, the full day was OVER and we were headed home. Then...it was a rapid mission to pack and clean in an hour. Could I do it? Yes. Could I do it without crying? Maybe not.

       During the time I was packing and organizing my room, Sister Maria Sophia and Sister Angela came to visit. You know you are comfortable with the sisters and the sisters are comfortable with you when you can pack all your belongings (including dirty laundry) in front of them and neither party minds. I was trying so hard not to cry. So hard. I had felt so at home, so loved during the time I spent there. I felt like me. Truly Becca, truly me. I didn't feel out of place or awkward or even restrained. In fact, I felt freer than ever. 

      As I carried my things down the stairs before one final sweep of my room, I met a few Sisters along the way: Sister Michael Marie, Sister Mary Ann and Sister Stella Marie. Each of those sisters have such a beautiful spot in my heart. I made a final stop in the Chapel, gave hugs goodbye and did the sweep. I took my time saying good bye because nun time is all relative. We printed my plane ticket and packed the car. To the airport I went after one final good-bye and "Kochem Cie" (I love you in Polish....). Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry.

      Finally, I was on the plane sitting next to a gentle old man and an empty seat. I plugged my earbuds into my iphone and pressed play. What was the first song that came on? "This Is Home" by Switchfoot. Yep, instant tears. There was so much about this weekend in Chicago that made me thank God over and over. There were so many little confirmations or God-Winks as I like to call them. The snow was a HUGE confirmation that I was where I needed to be at that present moment. I know they are called Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth for a reason, because I certainly felt like a mala siostra (little sister) in a big family. I felt loved, so very loved. And yes, deep down in my heart, I knew, rather, was almost reminded of where I belong: As Jesus' beloved. Because honestly, this is home. 

Sister Angela ;)

Sister Eliana, a Felician Sister

The Most Beautiful Chapel

The Superbowl girls

A shoeless match made in Heaven

The Nun Runners

A snowy message from God

Sister Lucille

The Carmelite Turn

Always Under The Same Moon and Stars

"Home. Let me come home. 

Home is wherever I'm with you."

- Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros

One of the first pictures of the two of us. AEFL!

     Walking through those front doors is like walking straight into a giant hug. Or being snuggled up with your Teddy Bear under a nice, knitted afghan blanket with a cup of coffee and a good book to read. Or like coming in from playing in the snow and smelling chicken noodle soup on the stove from Mom. Or even like the sun shining warm upon your and tanning your skin on a beautiful summer day. There is warmth and familiarity within those front doors. It's a feeling I can't even describe fully with those metaphors. It makes my soul smile, it makes my heart beat, I feel warm all the way through from my hair to my toes. It's a feeling of being home, but more so, the feeling of knowing you are loved.

     As per the tradition, I headed to supper at the Hospital Convent. Of course, my AE was pretending to be P.F. Chang in the kitchen as she mixed up a wild Lettuce Chicken Wrap (holy wow were they good) as I learned how to make some kind of Polish Egg Soup with Sister Teri. Soon, the sisters were trickling down to the kitchen and dining room as supper was being put out on the serving table. However, before plates were filled, hugs upon hugs were given. Honestly, I never get as many hugs in one night than a night spent at the convent. And since I love hugs so much, giving them and receiving them, it's always a smile for my heart and soul. 

      If there's one thing being in that dining room has taught me, it's that there is no rush when it comes to a meal. I have never eaten a meal with the sisters that has lasted less than an hour. I love it. There is always so much liveliness at those tables with stories upon stories upon stories. Anything from historical moments in our childhoods, like painting our sisters blue, to moments from the day, like the little ones playing guitaras. There is always a story to be told, always. I love it. I have never heard the same story once. They have taught me the true appreciation of one another. The listening, the conversing, the sharing, the appreciation of being with one another. Yes, I have learned that there. 

       Of course, like with any family, once the meal is over, most people head to the living room or in this case, the community room. And so, my AE and I sat next to each other as we talked with one another and the other sisters while at the same time, answering the Jeopardy questions. Women can multitask, you know. As the night wore on, we found ourselves watching old episodes of The Peanuts. I say old, because in reality, they were older than me (from 1985), but to a few of you, that's young. Being there with my sisters felt like home; like a warm cup of coffee being poured into my soul. It gave me a new sense of life and a reminder that there is always a place where I will be loved. 

        Soon, the sisters one by one left the community room and left me, my AE and Sister Eileen to be the last ones there. I tried so hard not to think about it, but as I hugged my AE one last time, my heart was silently breaking a little. This would be the last time I see my AE before she moved to Chicago. No longer will I be able to jump in the car and drive fifteen minutes down the road to see her. I'll have to catch a plane ride next time. And yet, I'll be seeing her on the Web. We'll somehow always be in constant communication. You see there's a reason she's my AE. AE stands for Alter Ego and we are scarily so alike, from Girl Scouts, to arts and crafts, to simply knowing when one needs the other. It still hasn't fully hit me that she won't be nearly as close as she always has been for me...I'm taking it in strides. 

     I know she will be so great as part of the USA CSFN Leadership Team and that God is truly working her to her greatest potential. But here's a secret: I don't like when the familiar surroundings change. Honestly, I can change anything I want about myself or have things about me change and find peace in it, but when things around me start changing, like people moving or buildings changing, my insides freak out. I want to come home from school and have everything be the same. I don't want to the church walls to be a different color and I want to know that I can drive down the road and see my closest sisters within minutes. And yet, things change. Change is inevitable...but growth is optional. And so, both of us must learn to grow from this experience. I'm going to miss being in the kitchen with her almost every other week in the Summer and having CREW at her house and crafting on the fifth floor, but I know somethings will never change. 

      When I walked out the back door, I didn't need a coat; I was still all warm from the hugs and love I received all night long. As I looked to the sky, I almost tripped down the stairs but that would have been ok. As I watched the clouds dance across the moon and stars, I realized something, something that I told Sister Angela Marie before she moved to Roma, Italy. No matter how far away in the world we are from each other, we are always under the same moon and stars. So when I'm looking up at the stars and you are, too, we are connected. You can imagine me doing the same. I'll admit, I didn't cry on the drive home, but as I sit here, being the story-teller that I am, I'm holding back the river. I'm going to miss her. Oh my gosh, am I going to miss her. But the good news is...there may be a trip to the Windy City soon enough for me. Then we'll be back to our old shenanigans. 

      And so, what I'd really want you to remember from this little lesson of mine is: home is wherever you are loved; change is inevitable, growth is optional; and no matter how far away, I am always under the same moon and stars. Best of luck in your new adventure, Sister Michele. Remember, I have Fridays AND Mondays off next semester ;)! AEFL, that is Alter Egos For Life (yeah, I went back to the nineties for a second...I went there). 

Jesus Look-a-Like

"He lives in you, 

He lives in me.

He watches over everything we see,

into the water, into the truth, 

in your reflection, 

He lives in you."

- "He Lives In You", The Lion King

 or 

     On Tuesday, I said what I thought would be my last goodbyes to the Nazareth Academy crowd before the New Year. But after wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, I had one final stop: the Main Office. As soon as I walked in, Sister Mary Joan wrapped her "big sister" arms around my neck (literally my neck) and pulled my head under her chin. "What do you mean 'Merry Christmas'?" She asked. "I mean..uh..Merry Christmas?" Right away the ladies in the Main Office, Mrs. Versino and Mrs. Cardamone chimed in: "Yeah, aren't you coming back this week?" "Uh...no?" I answered, now unsure of my plans for the rest of the week. I was still in a loving headlock from Sister Mary Joan when she said, "You are always here for Mass. You never miss Christmas Mass." I agreed. And then the three of them in unison said, "So you're coming right?!" "Of course..." I mumbled, "Of course." 

      Having gone to my alma mater once a week for the past two and a half months, and then twice this week already, I was starting to feel like I was wearing out my welcome. And I can't lie, I needed my own little break from Nazareth. As much as I love my school a million, I'm there way too much for having graduated three years ago. And yet, something always drags me back in.Whether it's the people I love, the girls who are my sisters, my heart needing a little bit (or a lotta bit) or love or God just wants me there, I always get dragged back in. And the curse for anyone who goes through those front doors is: You can never just stay for a few minutes. You stay forever.

     And so, there I was this morning, trying to pick out something other than yoga pants and a t-shirt to wear to Mass. After baking my little sister four dozen brownies for her classmates at six this morning and getting her ready for school, I dropped her off and then headed to the great Naz Acad. With two minutes to spare, I pulled into the parking lot. Not one, not two, but ALL THREE (yes, I have three unofficial, official parking spots there....) were filled. You know what that means, those two minutes to spare were spent running from the back parking lot to the front door. Of course, nothing ever starts on time, so I spent that "extra time" catching up briefly with my A.E., Sister Michele. Before I knew it, those I had said "Merry Christmas" were now "harassing" me about how I "just couldn't stay away." God does some funny things, I told them. And boy was today just an emulation of that!

      Father began the homily by asking us what we thought Jesus looked like. He suggested Chase Utley, and the Brawny Man, but I couldn't disagree more. In my mind, I began to compose what Jesus would really look like: scruffy; dark, sun-tanned skin; dark, dark, wild brown hair; dark brown, almost black eyes; he wouldn't be too built, but he would be strong; his hands would be rough from carpentry work; and of course, he'd have blisters on his feet from his shoes. I smiled at this image in my head, but then I tuned back into the homily. "A baby..." I heard. Oh wait...Jesus did come as a baby at first. Immediately, I tried to picture this grown man I just drew in my head, as a newborn baby. 

      Ask anyone and they will tell you, I love babies. I love holding them, rocking them, singing to them, feeding them, playing with them, smiling at the them, waving at them, playing peek-a-boo with them, even changing their diapers...I don't even mind that. I love babies. They bring such joy to anyone's life with their innocence and their little-ness. Their eyes are wide, ready for the world and yet they are so fragile. I have so many babies in my life, that describing this makes it easy...and yet, I couldn't imagine Jesus as a baby. 

      As I went through my day at Nazareth (like I said, you can't leave.....), I caught up more with my AE, I crashed Sister David's second period and watched The Nativity Story with her class, bonded with Sister Teri over Special Education courses (ironic how we took the same class...) and finally, popped in to aid my dear Sister Mary Anthony. I tried to keep my profile low while I was in the building; the less people who knew I was there, the better. And yet, that never happens when Becca is in the building. But that's ok. God had me there for a reason.

      That reason was soon to be revealed to me as I sat in the Community Service Corps office with Sister Mary Anthony trying to fix the CSC Facebook Account. She is always multi-tasking, and so while I was fixing it, she was trying to call her Operation Santa Claus delivery spots. She was supposed to drop some presents off today, but she just wasn't going to make it. Without even fully knowing what was going on, my heart volunteered for the job. Right away, I said, "I can do it, Sister." Both of us were shocked at my abrupt volunteer, but God was in it. As we quickly chatted, I found out more and more information. The drive was a half hour away, in a different state and completely out of the way of home for me. But, oh well. When she told me where I was going, I knew right away that God was working in my visit to Naz. The place was called "Our Lady of Sorrows," and I have a huge devotion to her. 

       I quickly printed out directions to where I was going and we headed downstairs to get the presents. We filled up my front seat and then we hugged good-bye. As I drove, it was as if I didn't even need the directions; my heart was leading me to where I was going. I got there a lot sooner than I had expected and dropped off the packages. Just like I did every year, my eyes started to water as the lady gave me a huge hug and thanked me. She told me that Makhai would love the gifts; I knew he would. When I got into the car to drive home, that's when I got it: the reason I couldn't picture Jesus as a baby is because He is not a baby anymore. 

      I reflected back on my day and realized, Jesus doesn't look like a baby, nor does He look like that Middle Eastern man I described. He looks like Makhai. He looks like the lady who opened the front door at Our Lady of Sorrows. He looks like Sister Mary Anthony, Sister David, Sister Teri, Sister Michele and Sister Mary Joan. He looks like the ladies in the main office. He looks like my favorite teachers. He looks like the homeless men and women I saw on my drive through the poor neighborhoods. He looks like my little sisters and their friends. He looks like the tired, worn and exhausted parents. He looks like the parents of the 20 children killed in Connecticut. He looks like their teachers and principal who stood in the line of fire. He looks like the kids in Jamaica that I think about everyday who have no family but each other. He looks like the families in New Orleans who live in the houses I once helped build. Jesus looks like all of these people and so many more. This is why I couldn't picture Him as a baby, because He lives in them and you and me. He looks like us. We are Jesus look-a-likes!