Desert Silence

"Praying - a silence in which
another voice may speak."
- Mary Oliver, "Thirst"

     As soon as I saw the mountains in the backyard of Villa Maria, La Planicie, I knew immediately that I wanted to climb them. I saw them as I see the ocean, something in which I can be alone and at peace. Just as I so often find the grandeur of God in the ocean, I felt the immense glory of God calling me to the tops of those mountains. I didn't look at them as most hikers or backpackers would, as something to be conquered, but rather, I saw them as something that I knew would conquer me.

    Our first taste of the mountains was when Sister Annette took us on a tour of the "backyard." We didn't go very far, but despite the small distance into the mountains we went, it was breathtaking. We didn't go very high, but the group of us stood on a path that seemed carved out only by God. Sister was telling us about a time she had gone up the mountains and sat incredibly still while she was on retreat some time ago. After her story, she made us stand there in silence. It was deafening. There were no birds chirping, no sounds of cars or people, no breeze to rustle even the dirt paths. There was absolutely no noise. Then, of course, someone laughed because we are not a silent people. And no, I do not mean our particular group, I mean modern day people. 

     This morning, I was sitting in Mass at St. Charles in Bensalem with my little sister. It what used to be a "cry room" for mothers with babies on Sundays, has been transformed into a side Chapel. There is a glass wall and two glass doors separating the room from the big church. Because there isn't too much room in the side Chapel, many people, including my sister and I, sit in the church and listen to Mass. Lizzie and I sit close to the glass wall, however, just so she can see what is going on. Usually, there is a microphone for the priest and the reader to use so that the people in the Church can listen, but today there was no microphone. Suddenly, the people in the Church started to state the obvious: the microphones are not on, etc. They began to move and hustle around making it so that one could not hear at all. However, when all was quiet again, despite there not being any microphones, if one listened really intently, he or she could hear what was going on. I found myself listening, focusing on every word that was said, and quieting my own mind. I found myself being silent. After Mass, as I reflected on this phenomena, I thought, once again of the desert. 

      On one particular afternoon, two of my friends from our trip and myself decided to go climb the mountain. We didn't set out to climb to a specific height or go to a specific peak, we just wanted to go, and so we went to the first place Sister Annette took us. We climbed and climbed and climbed. I felt the top of that particular mountain calling me forth; I needed to go there. It was rough, my lungs ached, my feet hurt and I had no idea how I was going to get down. I was sweating and since most of the mountain is made of dirt, my skin was soon being caked in dirt. Yet, I knew I had to get there. I kept climbing until finally, I reached the top with Nicole. Then, immediately I felt tears build up in my eyes. 

      I looked around the top of the mountain for a section to sit down. Where I sat is where I took the above picture. Yes, I sat down on a rock that essentially allowed me to dangle my feet over a very steep edge. Then, I sat there. I closed my eyes and I let the silence flow over me. Again, there were no birds, no animals, no wind, nothing. We were so high up that you could see the city of La Molina but you couldn't hear a single sound. My thoughts were deafening. Being up there, I began to pray. I had almost every fear and ambition on my mind but suddenly, I was being quieted. All my thoughts began to cease and I felt the true presence of God with me. 

      Yesterday, I went to visit my dear (dare I say it?!) alma mater and my Sisters there. While most of the conversation was in good favor and lots of sharing of my recent adventure to Peru, there was some very serious conversation, too. I hadn't planned to see Sister Annette yesterday, but as I waited in the convent dining room for Sister Elaine, she popped out of the kitchen and asked me to stop over in her office when I got back. She wanted to see my pictures, of course. And so, after lunch with Sister Elaine, I walked over to her office and let her browse through my pictures. I could see how much each picture brought back to her mind the memories of not only our two weeks there, but also of all the years she was missioned there. And as I watched her, I felt so much emotion flow through my heart. Joy at the sight of all the smiles and almost tears at the sight of all the people I love so dearly there. After she finished with the pictures, she turned to me and we had a chat. 

      She told me that I was quieter than usual and it seemed that I was perplexed by something. While yes, there was a lot on my mind concerning big and little moments of future life, my quiet persona of the day was actually the real Becca, I told her. Many people do not see pensive, reflective, quiet Becca, but she's there deep inside. I've always been a "watcher," one who takes in everything and then later, I explode about it. I see things for what they are in their stillness and reality. She asked how I was and I responded by saying, "I just am." I was sitting in her office as I was sitting on the desert mountain, in silence with thoughts slowly going through my mind until there were none left. I admit that there was a point in our conversation where I felt tears build up in my throat, but really I was at peace with just "being." I had no where to go and all day to do it. 

     She reminded me yesterday that I need to continuously be open to the Spirit; I need to listen to Him. That traveled with me as I remembered the mountains and the silence I experienced there. This morning when I was trying really hard to focus on listening at Mass, I also remembered her words. You see, I cannot truly listen if there is noise. Just as I couldn't hear what was going at Mass while the people were making a fuss, I cannot hear God if my mind is flood with thoughts and actions. I cannot listen to God if I am constantly on the run. He calls me from the desert mountaintops to come and sit and just be with Him. He calls me into the desert, not only the real desert like in Peru, but the figurative desert. It is there where I may feel tired, achy and sweaty of all that life has given me. But if I allow myself the time to sit and be with Him, He will silence me and there I will hear His voice. Because just as in a conversation, when I am quiet, I allow the other person to speak. In the desert, God does all the speaking. But it comes in the form of silence. I simply have to listen to what the silence does to my soul. 

Enjoy a bit of silence today, on me. 

Princess for a Day - First Communion

"The most beautiful thing in the world is the communion between Jesus in the Eucharist and the littlest hearts who have the fullest understand of who He is!"

     Do you remember that day? For me, it was May 6th, 2000. I wore a beautiful white dress and cute little white shoes. I wore precious little socks with little white bows on the side and my veil was attached to a headband. I had practiced time and time again on how to fold my hands and bow my head and stick out my tongue. I was ready! 

     When I think back on it, it feels like it happened so long ago and yet, I can perfectly recall it like it was yesterday. I can't honestly say I remember my sister's the same way, but I'm sure she could easily recall the whole thing for you, too. It's been a while since there was a First Communion in our family and while some people have told me they think about their special day every time they receive the Eucharist, I can't truthfully say I do. It's not very often that I do think about it. But one thing is for sure, I never want to go back to those pre-Eucharist days, because Jesus in the Eucharist is my ultimate strength!!

     Flash forward to May 5th, 2012; the First Communion of my littlest sister and my god-daughter (that, my friends is CRUCIAL information). I had come home from school late the night before and the alarm went off at a whooping 5:30 am; I hit the snooze button til 6. The little princess was sound asleep on my floor as I crept down the stairs to get myself ready. At 7, I finally woke her up. Princess Face (my latest nickname for her) got up and hopped in the shower to finally start getting ready! We had to be at school by 8:30 and for a little Princess, that might seem impossible. But, we did it! Her hair, subtle makeup and outfit was all ready to go and although I am a bit biased, she was the most beautiful little First Communicant I had ever seen. 

      Mass was at ten and so I was granted another hour of running around like crazy trying to calm her down, see all the parishioners who almost didn't recognize me because it's been so long since I've been home, and finding my great-grandmother (true story. she got lost.) My own heart was beating like crazy because I was so excited for my little Princess. Soon enough, the music began and all the little princes and princesses came walking down the aisle. I love to sing and always sing my heart out in church, but when I saw her smiling as she walked down the aisle, I choked up and couldn't sing without tears running down my face. I was so happy for her!! After the whole congregation got over the little awkward parts of the Mass by saying, "And also with you spirit," and my great-grandma awkwardly asking me when I was going to get back together with my previously dated friend, everyone was into the actual swing of the Mass. From where we were seated in the church, I could not see a thing. I guess it's a short person problem!! But, I could hear everything.

       Father's homily was absolutely beautiful. He started by asking where the parents were, then the grandparents, then the God-Parents. Out of all the people packed into our Parish, there were only five God-Parents and I was one of those five proud God-Parents!!!! He then asked all the kids why they were excited for the day!! After asking almost all the kids, he tied together all their answers and produced the most beautiful First Communion Homily I've heard in a while (and I've heard a lot!!!). 

      Finally the time came for the first communicants to receive their First Eucharist and while I couldn't see a thing, my heart knew when my little Princess received Jesus! Immediately, tears were streaming down my cheeks for the beauty of the First Communion between Jesus and the little hearts of the kids! I walked down the aisle as the time came for me to go to Communion and Sister Jeanne, reached her hand out from her pew as I walked by to pat my arm. I smiled at her and saw that she had damp cheeks, too. I guess it's a sister thing!! In both senses of the word!! I smiled at Little Lizzie as I walked past and she was all smiles!! Yep, the most beautiful thing in the world is to witness the First Communion between Jesus and the little hearts of those who know exactly who He is!!