An Anniversary of Feast Day

"Now, we will stand and profess our faith. 

Then, we will pray with our petitions.

And then, we will go to a wedding."

- Fr. McCabe

Photo Courtesy of : The Photo People 

       December 8, 2018 was much different than December 8, 2017. And yet, there were many similarities. We spent our morning in church, surrounded by friends and family and sisters, and according to the celebrant, we were attending a wedding. As I sat with my husband of now one year in our college chapel on our University Feast Day, Dec 8, 2018, I felt the same overwhelming bliss I had felt a year ago on that day. I remember being asked when I was an undergraduate student, what my favorite university tradition was. While for others it may have been Carol Night, 100 Nights celebration or Senior Ball, my answer was always Feast Day. In it's most simple way, classes were cancelled, a celebratory Mass was said, there was a huge lunch in the cafeteria, and it was always the day my friends and I began our Christmas shopping. But one of the best moments of that day, was for only a few moments after the homily in Mass, the IHM Sisters renewed their vows in front of the entire congregation. And that, my friends, was the most beautiful moment. 

       Every year when I witnessed this beautiful profession of love, I would be moved to tears. The beauty overwhelmed me. It was as if all was standing still, all the saints were watching, the chorus of angels paused for a brief moment, and silence fell upon Heaven and Earth. It is a moment second only to how I imagine the moments immediately after the birth of Christ were spent. Silent, peaceful, all was watching. And I remember always thinking. Will I feel this way when I say my vows? Will I be overwhelmed with beauty and joy and goodness? I can now say, yes. Yes, I was. And how beautiful it is to share this day with the Sisters every year. 

      We were blessed to be able to attend Feast Day, a day that is always celebrated by Mighty Macs everywhere, on campus this year. Surrounded, just as we had been one year before, by the Sisters. Mother Mary, a woman after whom I attempt day after day to model my life, was shining as the most beautiful example of love. And of course, there was my favorite hymn, the Immaculata Conceptio. We spent the first half of Mass listening to the same readings that were used at our wedding, remembering back to sitting next to each other on the altar. These readings are ones with which we are so familiar, they are written on our hearts. Ones that we share with the Sisters every year. How blessed are we. 

      I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge one of the greatest Feast Day homilies I have ever heard. Because it was father's homily about true love as emulated by the sisters that lead me on a path of reflection much deeper for the rest of Mass. Father spoke about true love in ways so beautiful and I could not help but think God picked those words for us. Yet the more father spoke of the truest type of love as emulated by the Sisters, I could not help but agree wholeheartedly. Often it's little girls, who after having gone to many weddings of aunts, uncles, cousins and more, that they begin to dream of their own wedding. But for me, I was always enamored by the Sisters' renewal of vows. Somehow, deep in my heart, I was aware of the fact that this is a love deeper than any love I had witnessed at the altar. And often, young engaged couples are encouraged to look toward couples in their lives who have married for a long time for support and guidance. They are asked who has shown them true love and often the result is their parents or grandparents. But after father's homily, I began reflecting on who had really taught Joe and I how to love deeply and truly. 

     Our parents, of course, have given us great examples of love - persevering in times of challenge and struggle and rejoicing in moments of success. Our grandparents, too, have given us examples of deep, true love. There are even more couples in our families we could easily look to for longevity of marriage, true love and devotion. These people filled my heart as I considered who has taught Joe and I true love. But for each of us, these examples of true love had been known only to one of us for a while. Then, as we dated, became engaged and prepared for marriage, they became known to each of us. But there is one group of people who both of us had known for the same amount of time who has also taught us true love and we were reminded of that on Saturday at Mass. 

     Our Sisters, who had consistently shown us love and mercy on tests, papers, in work study positions, in extracurricular activities, and just day to day life. Their witness was a consistent example in our lives ever since both of us began undergrad. For years, we had witnessed them show love in the most simple and yet, most beautiful ways; through prayer, lifestyle and devotion to God and Mary. They have been an example for us both and each year, on our anniversary, we are reminded of that example of love and how we must put that love into action for each other. Every year we were blessed to witness their renewal of vows. Last year, they witnessed our profession of vows to one another. And this year, we renewed our vows together; the sisters by their words and witness and us by our silent prayer in our hearts. 

      One year has flown by. And yet, it has also seemed as if time has stood still. I have heard that time seemingly does not exist when you are with the one you love. You can blink and suddenly 50 years have flown by. Our year has held adventure, love, bliss, wonder, amazement, struggle, challenge and more. But above all, it has held depth of companionship. I have learned more about Joe and more about myself in this one year than I feel I have ever learned about us. We have learned about the truth of support for each other, more about selflessness, more about dedication to each other and  of course, how to plan meals around wacky schedules, how to make sure we are spending time living in the moment and taking time to just be with one another without any plans. This has been a year of learning, loving and so much more. But above all, despite the inevitable challenges, I have been consistently aware that we are blessed. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZpTMZy65y8

   

The Blessed Gift of Spouse

"At home in bed a few weeks before he died, I asked him, 

'Can you breathe okay with my head on your chest like this?'

He answered, 'It's the only way I know how to breathe.'"

- "When Breath Becomes Air," Paul Kalanithi

    I've been debating whether or not to keep this blog, since it's original purpose seemingly doesn't exist. However, after obvious months of quiet and yes, contemplation, I was inspired yesterday to keep writing. It is, still, a road less traveled: two young people, married and Catholic who have lived their lives and continue to do so according to Catholic faith and practice. On September 8, Mary's birthday, we will be married for nine months. In those nine months, I've learned more than I ever thought possible. I've laughed more than I ever have, and yes, I've cried, too, but that's because tears are a good thing and I cry when I'm really happy. 

     A few weeks ago, one of the Sisters I am close with said to me, "You're so happy; I love talking to you and hearing about your life. I think that's what happens when you marry your best friend." Ten years ago, I had a different plan in my mind. I always say now, God had me on that path so I wouldn't end up with the wrong man. Joe and were friends for a while and I even knew his parents well before we started dating. I thought then, during our friendship, that his support was immense and wonderful. But I had no idea he would become all the more supportive when we got married. 

     The thing is, when I teach my Vocations and Human Sexuality class to my seniors, the girls always ask questions like, "Wouldn't you want to live together to know if you could live together before you were married?" "Don't you want to know everything you can about each other before you get married?" and "How will you know how each other functions before you get married?" We didn't live together until December 9 around 12:30AM after I drove there in a wedding dress. And we have survived nine months together. I didn't know some things about him and there are certainly things he didn't know about me. Over the past few weeks, I have been reflecting on this, truly counting my blessings. 

      This morning, I forgot to change the toilet paper roll and there wasn't anything left on the roll. I made a mental note to replace it after I finished making breakfast, hopefully before Joe woke up. I forgot and later, long after he had left for work, I realized he had replaced the empty roll with a new one. Every night when I make dinner, I am usually a disaster in keeping the area clean. I pile dishes in the sink, there's almost always onion skin on the floor and I most definitely am always splashing sauce or gravy or marinade somewhere. I like to think it's my creative side showing, but I know it's just because I'm messy. After dinner, without complaint, he washes the dishes and fills the dish washer. He's really good at folding laundry, not so good at sorting it, so we split it. And every night, before bed, he fills a glass with water for me just in case I get thirsty in the middle of the night. 

     It's all these things that make me grateful for him, because he doesn't complain about sharing the duties or taking care of me. But remembering these things leads me to deeper reflection: I need him. I could survive on my own, yes. But his companionship completes me. I have realized over the past few weeks (and I realize this may be an audacious thing for a newly wed to say) why God gives us spouses. There are trials and tribulations that happen throughout life that we cannot plow through alone. Yes, we have friends and family who can be there to help us through, but our spouse is obligated to be there through good times and bad. I didn't marry Joe with the intent of keeping him around to be my support, but he has been that for me. Some days are filled with ups and downs and at the end of the day, my favorite place to be is in his arms. His arms are the strong walls of my home and in them, I feel the safest and most secure. When I'm not with him, despite whether I am currently happy, I miss him; I wish he was with me experiencing my joys, too. 

     God gives us spouses as companions, as friends, as confidantes, as people to share in our joys or our sorrows. I think what is most important is that Joe is my spouse and he's only for me and vice versa; I am only for him. How special and unique and amazing it is to think about that: God designed someone else to be my perfectly fitting puzzle piece. While God was creating me with all my personality, my quirks and my nooks and crannies, He was also creating Joe to perfectly compliment that for me. (Or maybe it's the other way around, since Joe is a few months older). It's fascinating, mind-boggling and not easy to fully grasp. We are only for each other because we were made that way. And I am so grateful for that gift. 

      The gift of my spouse is one that I have truly considered deeply in these last few days before school starts up again, mostly because I have had the time but also the inspiration. I've had many questions for God and our conversations have reached great depth. His answer to me over and over his been, "Trust my time. You need this trial to become stronger together. Keep strengthening your marriage." And so we have. Simply by being together and even at times, doing nothing together, we have been made stronger. Through consistent prayer and going to Mass together, our relationship with God, both individually and as a couple, has made us stronger. By seeing each other vulnerable and emotional, as well as over joyed and ecstatic, we have been made stronger. And without the other, we certainly couldn't be where we are today. God has blessed us through every up and down and I'm grateful for my spouse, the one who loves me beyond understanding, in good times and in bad. 

New Year, New Me

"Never hesitate to let the one you love

know how you feel. Align your minds, 

synchronize your hearts, and above all be 

fearless when dancing with their souls."

- Truth Devour, "Wantin"

    In an effort to write something different than I wrote last year on New Year's Day, I read my post from last year. I ended the paragraph with saying how I didn't want to write about "New Year, New Me." Yet, before I read that old post, I had already titled this post. I had to chuckle at myself. Past me always surprises present me. So I decided to go back to my list of resolutions for 2017. I definitely ate more consciously, gained more muscle strength (and lost about 20 lbs in the process!), wrote more letters, deepened my prayer life and stressed a little less. But the one I keep coming back to is resolution #6, "Do something BIG and life changing." Hmmm...I think I did that, too. 

    I remember hiking on New Year's Day and while doing so, wondering what would be in store for me. I had desires, I had fears, I had dreams. But I knew that every day of 2017 would be a day given up to God, his will and his design. No matter what happened, I would be try to align myself with his will. In doing so, I was so pleasantly surprised at all the amazing things God granted me this year, especially a new me. From going to the March for Life again (finally after so many years), to camping with friends so many times, to leading an alum retreat with some of my new best friends, spending time being in love, being in nature and learning to be comfortable with being alone, too. I spent time remembering those who have gone before me in the this life, praying with them, and growing comfortable with the importance grief plays in life. I turned a quarter of a century old next to my bestie from High School, did my fair share of travels around the Eastern states and created so many memories. But on top of that, we got engaged, celebrated our relationship, grew closer to one another in prayer and heart and mind, GOT MARRIED on the best feast day, and closed out the year on our honeymoon. Looking back on all these memories, thinking about how I felt on January 1, 2017, I never expected any of this and yet, I am so grateful. 

     Of course, I don't want it to seem that I had no idea we were going to get engaged and married. That obviously wouldn't be healthy. But what I mean is that, in my heart I knew I wanted to marry Joe, I knew he wanted to marry me. We had been talking about it for a while. But we weren't sure if God was going to bless us with it happening this year. We prayed and hoped that the time would be right. And so many instances of answered prayers and moments of joy and happiness led us to knowing this would be the year. As I sit here watching the snow falling from our window, I can't help but think God is smiling down on us. 

     Now it's three days after the beginning of the new year. I went back to school yesterday only to be greeted with a snow day today. I can't say I'm complaining. I always say that on days like this, God is looking out for all the teachers who weren't ready to go back to school, yet. Considering we were on our honeymoon all of break, I'll be honest and say that I'm definitely that teacher today. In the middle of working on getting myself together for going back to school for real, I'm breaking to reflect on the beginning of this new year. I am sure that 2018 has big things in store for us our new family. I am thinking to the homily we heard on New Year's Eve when father suggested we consider how Mary and Joseph spent their New Year's Eve thinking of their past year. I felt like Mary in that moment, thinking back on all the amazing and yet simultaneously terrifying things that happened to me. As I looked at my Joseph, he smiled, thinking about all the the amazing adventures to come. We so whole-heartedly believe that if we continue to align our hearts with God's will, He will be sure to surprise us, perhaps even more so this year. 

    And so, we begin, a new year, a new me if only because of my new last name. I am sure that the love of my life and I will be adventuring alongside friends, family and God this year. There is no question in my mind that His surprises will be the best surprises. We may have no idea what they may turn out to be, but we are sure that prayer will be the center of our motivation this 2018. Blessings to you and yours this year. 

Be Saints

"I am the first and the last;

I am the Lord who died that you might live. 

I am the bridegroom, this is my wedding song. 

You are my bride, come to the marriage feast."

- Take and Eat, Michael Joncas

     One of my most favorite things about traveling is getting to visit and worship in different Catholic churches. What I love so much about this is knowing that I can go to any Catholic church, be welcomed like family, and the Mass will be familiar to me. I also love listening to the music they sing, the announcements they read (how rich their weekly spiritual life is!) and of course, a different perspective on the readings in the Homily. It is always familiar, even if it's in a different language, and church, specifically Mass, always make me feel at home. 

    This past weekend, I was blessed to the spend time with my bridesmaids in Hershey, PA. We went camping, rode roller coasters and ate a lot of chocolate. As much as I hate being the center of attention, it was beautiful to walk past so many people and have them wish me well wishes for my upcoming marriage. Recently, I've been so busy at school in my ministry job, that I haven't had much time to really focus on the fact that I am, indeed, getting married, in quite a few days. Every so often, in the middle of my chaos, a little alarm goes off in my brain that says, "Reminder. Reminder. You are getting married." And then there's the sub-sequential thoughts of, "I need to order flowers. I need to pay the dj. I need to call our priest. Do we have a place to live yet?" Yikes. Yet this weekend, I had time to enjoy the friendship and sisterhood of my bridesmaids and also focus on the fact that, yes, I am getting married. Judging from the movies, you'd never think that a Bachelorette weekend would be like a retreat. But I'm grateful to my girls for giving me that opportunity. 

   I loved that my girls knew me well enough to make celebrating Mass together a part of the weekend, making the weekend absolutely complete. As I stated above, I love visiting various different churches on my travels. Despite having gone to Hershey so many times, I can't remember ever going to Mass at St. Joan of Arc Parish. When we arrived a few minutes before Mass, I knelt to talk to Jesus. In this conversation, I was drawn to the stained glass windows on the right side of church. Contemporary images of spiritual life, education and so on. I am so used to seeing saints in the stained glass, that these contemporary images really made my Theology heart sing. But when I turned to the left side of the church out of curiosity, I was even more intrigued. I had never seen Catholicism linked so beautifully with Scripture and the present day. My inner Theology student/nerd burst. Each contemporary image on the right was paired with an image of Christ on the left; tied together with only one or two words. 

   Now while I feel I could write a paper on all the windows, I will only share the first two windows with you. You'll have to go see the others for yourself. On the left side was the Holy Family; Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus. It simply read, "Spiritual Life." On the right side was a young married couple, with a newborn baby at the baptismal font and a priest baptizing their new baby. Again, below the image, it read, "Spiritual Life." I could only be reminded of what so many sisters have told me during this time of engagement, "We need Holy Families, too." How beautiful was Christ's confirmation to me in my heart through these images! I could not help but think of textbooks and textbooks worth of Theology behind the sacrament of marriage. Because while we will have a wedding day, the sacrament is the most important part of the day. And it's mostly because we get to begin our marriage, which will last a lifetime, with the Eucharist, surrounded by the physical Body of Christ in our family members. 

    Father's homily spoke about the first reading, in which Isaiah says, "my ways are not your ways and my thoughts are not your thoughts." He told us how he fought his vocation to the priesthood, wanting something completely different. I had to laugh as how much I felt connected to this, but in the opposite way. How I fought married life because I felt it wasn't good enough. And yet, I have learned so well these past few years how the vocation to marriage life is just as good and holy as religious life. I simply needed to find my holy, faithful, husband to be. 

   The icing on the cake, or should I say, the icing on the Hershey's bar, was the Communion hymn. I loved the traditional hymns that the congregation sung with the cantor, but my favorite was at Communion. I guess as a person with high empathy and as an auditory learner, I tend to connect with music, stories and people more quickly than the average human. Every so often, when singing in the congregation during Mass, I get to a certain line and suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with emotion. This happened on Sunday with the above quoted hymn. It was Jesus' invitation to me (and Joe), to come to His wedding feast. Yet another confirmation that this is truth. That in 75 days, we will join together in Matrimony at the wedding feast. 

    There's a part two to my day, however. I thought I was finished being blessed during the day but Joe called me on the way home and asked if I might make it home in time to go to Mass with him and his family. I told him I already went to Mass, but I did want to see him. So what better way to spend time together than during Mass (can you tell I love the Eucharist soooooooo much?)? I made it just in time for 5PM Mass at his parish. Again, hearing another perspective on the readings is always good for my heart. This time, the Deacon gave the homily. He correlated a story of what he encourages newly weds to be for each other with the Gospel. Deacon said, "I always encourage young newly weds to remember to be one thing for each other: saints." He reminded the whole congregation of this but I felt that he was speaking right to us. He continued to express that marriage is not just between two people, but a 100% dedication by three people: husband, wife and Christ. The wedding feast was coming back to me for the second day. Just when I thought my blessings were already too numerous for the day, this homily was just another added blessing. Yes, so many church experiences of marriage. 

      God's ways are not our ways and God's thoughts are not our thoughts. Yet somehow, God always manages to speak to our hearts in a way we can understand. I cannot wait to be Joe's wife, to begin a holy family with him, and I wait in the hopeful patience that God will continue to prepare our hearts to be saints. 

From Convent to Conte

"You made the best choice for yourself.

Your heart was torn about where to go

and he came into your life at the perfect moment."

- S. Jeanette

      Two blog posts in one week? It must be summertime. Yet, despite this, I've been busy. But the desire to write and open my heart is louder than ever. I can hardly wait to sit in the pool tomorrow, but tomorrow is not yet here. And since I can't write in the pool (water and technology just don't mix apparently...hah!), why not use the best of the time I'm waiting for my class to begin? 

      Yesterday, I was so incredibly blessed to spend the day with some of the most beautiful people I know. For the past eight years, the service immersion week, CREW, has taken place. I participated in CREW as a awkward adolescent, helped out when I was in college (for the exception of when I spent time in SA) and was back last year (as an adult? yikes!). We had been planning for a great week this year, but as the odds have it, only a few signed up. So we decided to make the best of it: why not have a whole day dedicated to CREW. That's what I love about these women - they have creative hope. 

      And so, around 5:30 yesterday morning, I woke up, began to work on my annual duty assigned to me, and then headed to our CREW day for Mass and the day. Was I excited? Yes. See above mention of morning wake up time. Was I nervous? Also, yes. But why? Well, it was going to be the first time I had interaction with a lot of the sisters since before I was engaged. Now, it wasn't as if I was showing up, not having told anyone. They all knew. I figured telling them before I saw them all again, would break the ice a bit. So, why was I nervous? Well, to be honest, I can't really pinpoint an exact reason. But, I can tell you the exact second my nerves were eased. 

      Immediately after Mass, we had invited the girls for breakfast and as usual, I was lingering behind when S. Jeannette grabbed me by the hand gently. Sister has known me for what seems like eternity, but what is actually close to 11 years. Without actually spending large amounts of time together, she has watched me grow throughout my (really) award adolescent years into a young college woman and now, into a woman about to get married. How blessed am I to have so many women in my life willing to journey with me through those transitions! 

      So at any rate, she gave me a big hug and expressed a deep congratulations. Perhaps she could tell I was nervous. Perhaps she had been thinking this since I sent the house my announcement in the mail. I'm not quite sure, but she did always have a knack for telling me what I needed to hear. That's when she told me she felt that I made the right choice. She expressed knowing that I, for certain, had prayed about this. And then she told me that there was no question in her heart that I was struggling with choosing between some great communities. At the time when I was struggling the most, she believes that's when Joe entered my life. She truly believes he entered my life to ease the confusion of my heart. And when she said this, without ever having a conversation quite like it before, I felt instant peace wash over my heart. 

      My day was filled with adventure, as any day spent with the Sisters really is. I was able to welcome "home" a dear friend of mine, laugh with the Sisters I hadn't seen for a while, and yes, even rise to a rare occasion of dancing in the rain (by which I mean, chasing a Sister outside to help her with blow away chairs during a storm). Around suppertime, my nerves began to get at me again as slowly but surely more and more sisters began to join us for our picnic supper. That's when I took the chance to go run in the rain. We came back inside, soaked but laughing together. We squeezed puddles out of our hair/veil and laughed some more as we considered what any passersby may have thought. In that moment, I was set free again from my anxieties. I had strength to face the crowd of sisters who all knew about my engagement. 

     I guess I was expecting them to each express their disappointment that I wasn't entering religious life despite the fact that Joe and I have been dating for three years and most have met him. I guess I was also expecting some to express questions and I just wasn't ready to answer questions en masse. But my worrying was for naught. As I tried to stay away from any spotlight, sisters, quietly and seemingly, one by one, came to me, gave a hug and told me how proud they are or how happy they are for me and Joe. Some even asked me to retell each detail surrounding the night we were engaged. I was surrounded not only by a grand amount of support, but a huge, loving family. 

      In those moments of brief conversation with many of the sisters, I felt a peaceful transition. As my bridal party would say, "from convent to Conte." There is no doubt in my heart that I am meant to be with Joe; he is my best friend. But there was fear of disappointing others. Some would tell me, never let that fear inhabit me from living my life. But again, these women have surrounded me for a very long time. They were the teachers, mentors, tutors who helped raise me. They were companions on a journey of prayer and introspection. And again, I am so blessed they allowed me to stay a part of their lives despite life changes and transitions from teenager to college student to young woman out in the world. 

       After our picnic supper, we headed to the Chapel I had fallen in love with so many years ago. I was surrounded by the voices of beautiful women, each with their own story, singing loudly and proudly during Praise and Worship Adoration. At one moment, the sun came straight through the stained glass window and I felt, shined right on my face. My found my heart so lifted in prayer by those around me and indeed loved, so incredibly loved. If ever I doubted God's love for me, in that moment I was reassured that I am far from a disappointment, far from being disowned and far from a need to worry. These Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth reminded me the truth of their charism: family. 

       I was greatly assured last night by the love of others, the greatest of hugs, and the peace given. As we parted for the night, one sister reminded me: we need holy families. You felt called by the Holy Family once, you're being called again, just in a way you never expected. And there is so much truth in those words. Yes. This is a call to be a Holy Family, no matter where I am, from convent to Conte! 

I Am So Much More

"We invoke Christian unity because we we invoke Christ. 

We want to live unity: we want to follow Christ and live in His love."

- Pope Francis via @pontifex

     I am 24 years old. By stereotype, I should have a big ego, be concerned about all the right things, and be a protester in my spare time. At least, this is what the media shows me. But instead I am a Pro-Life, Catholic, feminist woman. To so many, this is an oxymoron, because how can I simply be all four of those things? They do not seem to go together. In fact, it seems impossible that it could be so. But I write this blog post after two weeks of personal reflection and lots of prayer. I feel I need to do this. 

    Yesterday, I traveled down to Washington, D.C. and participated in the Annual March for Life. I was there with a colleague and four students. I was there with my extended family members and my immediate family members. I was there with religious brothers and sisters. I was there with Catholics, Christians and non-Christians. I was there with men, women, and children. And I was there with people who do not share my perspective. There was no violence, there was no harm, there was no hatred. I was surrounded by peace and prayer. And yet, I know that it is so hard for many to support me in what I did yesterday.

     Catholics and Christians who consider themselves Pro-Life have been under fire. I have felt the heat of this fire so directly but not in a harsh way. I see it on the internet, on Facebook and Twitter. Things being shared that say, "Dear 15 year old me, I'm sorry you marched for life," "Pro-Life is only Pro-baby," and my favorite, "Don't call yourself a Christian if you are Pro-Life but not Pro-child" (because I'm not really sure what that means!). I read these, I listen to the perspectives of the authors, and I scroll past. I wonder what happened to these people that gave them such a negative perspective of someone like me. I sometimes think, they can't be talking about me. BUT they are. Even those who once considered themselves Catholic post these things and I wonder, how it got this way. Perhaps it's not direct, but I feel the heat of these misconceptions. 

    Let's go back in my personal history for a second; let me tell you who I was and who I've become. I marched for life as a high school student and as a college student. Each time I only went with a few of my friends, because most of my friends didn't share the same perspective. I was never heckled for this and we never engaged in arguments. I have friends now who may not agree with my perspective and yet, I can respect them and they respect me. I also teach high school Theology, specifically Human Sexuality and Social Justice. Because of my experiences, I would say that this is the perfect position for me. Yet I do so with the understanding that the students who sit before may have warped perspectives of Catholicism, may not be Catholic or may have been in situations that seemingly the church may be against. I teach the doctrine of the Catholic Church with gentleness and compassion. It is not treading lightly, but rather doing all this with Love. 

     Now let's talk Jesus. He's my main dude. My students fondly refer to Him as a hipster because He broke stereotypes left, right and sideways. Yet, He did so with Love. That is my call, our call as Catholics. To preach the Gospel with Love, gentleness and compassion. This is something I remind my students daily, especially as we talk about the tough topics. It seems these days, there are more and more tough topics. 

    Catholics have a core belief called, "Catholic Social Teaching." There are seven pillars of CST and all of the social justice topics that have been mentioned these past few weeks in the news are in there. Being Pro-Life is the basis of this core belief and I'm going to briefly explain what that means in the next few paragraphs. Because truthfully, it hurts my heart to hear and see such a bad reputation given to Pro-Lifers. And since I was part of the age group that was the greatest represented yesterday at the March for Life, I need to. 

    Pro-Life is, by definition, "respect for life from conception to natural death." Now, I could give you the scientific reasoning behind why life begins at conception but I'll refrain; there's enough of that out there. But let's start at the basis of the belief. Historically speaking, Pro-Life is most often paralleled with the Supreme Court Ruling of Roe v. Wade which legalized abortion in the United States. Yes, the March for Life is the annual march against this ruling. Yes, it began as a movement to protect the unborn. But no, it is not just the abortion issue. Roe v. Wade took place in 1973. Catholic Social Teaching started forming as a core belief with "The Just War Theory" during the Medieval Ages with St. Joan of Arc and continued with documents like Rerum Novarum in 1891 and so on. CST has been around much longer. Being Pro-life has been a Catholic concept for much longer than 44 years. 

    The Just War Theory is just one of many concepts within Catholic Social Teaching that exhibits the Pro-Life atmosphere of the Catholic Church. The Just War Theory states that unless absolutely necessary, after every peaceful approach has been considered and failed, and if a country or community is in extreme danger should war be declared. Thank you, Joan of Arc, for giving us guidelines for war which basically state that at all costs war should be avoided unless deemed absolutely necessary for protection of human beings. 

     In addition to the Just War Theory there are many other beliefs in CST that state concepts like, "welcoming the stranger and the refugee." If countries in power have the means, the space and the power, countries are obligated by moral reasoning to welcome the refugee with open arms and to protect them from the oppressor. We should also be providing a proper wage for all people to live with all their necessities; there should be no struggle because of low wages. There should be proper healthcare available for all people. There should be no segregation. There should be no racism, sexism, ageism. We should protect the environment and by doing so, protect those who rely on the environment (hey, that's us and all humans because we need oxygen). AND. SO. MUCH. MORE. 

     Yet, I fall into the category, because I proclaim myself Pro-Life, that is none of the above. But, I, in fact, very much am Pro-Life in all of these ways and more. I believe that all human beings, regardless of their distinctions, deserve fair treatment, fair wages, fair opportunities, and fair access to life's necessities. I believe this because I AM A PRO-LIFE, CATHOLIC WOMAN! Yes, this is why. Because my faith is my firm foundation and it is a core belief of my faith to live socially just. 

      Now, of course, I know that so many, perhaps, would still argue that I cannot possibly still be a feminist if I am pro-life and Catholic, especially because stereotypically speaking, the Catholic Church appears to be repressive of women. I beg to differ. I have been elevated to such high esteem by my Church for so many reasons. In fact, I would venture to say that I feel liberated by my Catholic faith as a woman, which is not the common perspective. But here is why being Pro-Life, Catholic and Feminist has led me to feel this way. 

     Now I do not have the time or your attention span long enough to put two courses of material summed up in one blog post. But I can say this. My Catholic faith has led me to believe that I deserve better in terms of my sexuality. I deserve better than to be given birth control as my only options for many health problems (especially because it can lead a woman into even more health problems when she and her spouse attempt to conceive a child). It has taught me that I deserve better than the health care provided at Planned Parenthood (so many of my friends have given me first hand accounts of the lack of health care provided but also the unfair treatment and down right cruelty experienced there). It has taught me that I deserve better than to have my self-worth lie solely in my sexual liberation. Finally, it has taught me that I deserve much better and my future daughters (and sons) deserve much better than to be considered choices. Women deserve better, on this I agree. But we must look for what the better actually is. 

    These past two weeks have been so politically charged and I don't think there will be a calm anytime soon. It has been one thing after the next. But I can promise to my God that I will continue to do what I can to further the Pro-Life message. Every life deserves rights but the greatest right is to live a life to it's fullness. This means, the unborn being born, the refugee and the immigrant being welcome, the homeless being housed, the women being given proper healthcare, the environment being protected and so much more. So please, know that I, as a Pro-Life, Catholic, Feminist Woman stand for the betterment of life for all. Please do not put me in a box created by the media. I am not just pro-baby. I am so much more. I am a sanctuary, a living tabernacle of life.

New Year, New Perspective

"Dare to be the best you can -

at all times, dare to be."

- Steve Maraboli

    The memes have come and gone, much like the year 2016 itself, about how terrible a year it was. Generally one with a sunny disposition and positive outlook on life, I couldn't help but agree. The amount of loss I suffered, starting only ten days into the new year, was astronomical in my perspective. From my best friend, my mommom, to many other family members, friends and classmates, the deaths were too many, too quickly. It was a rocky year for other reasons, too, and overall I felt like I fell into the practice of finding the negative more than finding the positive. I was down on my self, I wasn't very happy most of time and I probably brought others down by being tired, exhausted and downright miserable at times. For a girl who tends to like even years better than odd years, I definitely was not a fan of 2016.
    So at midnight on December 31, I rang in the new year with some friends and a dog. It was quieter than usual, but still a good ringing in none the less. New Year's Eve is one of my favorite nights of the year. There's magic or wonder and awe present. I never spent NYE in a bustling, loud place. Usually it was with close friends or even alone in my room. Since I almost never let my eyes see the other side of the night, staying up til midnight was always a big deal, too. It's the latest I ever stay up and there's something so amazing about watching time change - one year to the next. Now some may say that the minute, seconds even in which the new year comes, is nothing more than that - a minute, a few seconds. But for me it is quiet, silence and suddenly the loud, fruitful, celebration in which a new year is born. The gentle reminder that with each death comes brand new life. There's fireworks and noise makers and pots and pans and NYE kisses and hugs and well wishes. How can you not love a celebration like that? All the noise for just another minute.
     We spent our New Year's Day sleeping in, eating donuts and drinking coffee (which led me to my first resolution: eat more consciously), and finally deciding to take a hike. Four friends and a dog hiking. Sounds like the title of my next big seller by which I mean, the next very boring story I tell in the faculty lunch room for the next week. But hey, a girl can dream. It was warmer than usual in January, temps flirting with 50. We were ready for a great few hours in the woods. We started in Valley Forge, hiking up Mt. Misery, realizing slowly but surely and quite stubbornly, that we were all out of shape. Which led me to my next resolution: hike more mileage, gain more muscle strength! We hiked to the end of the park and decided to keep going on a trail called Horse Shoe Trail. About 2.5 miles out of the park, we realized the true length of this trail: 140 miles to Harrisburg. Needless to say, we turned around, taking the low trail (once back in the park) back to the parking lot. For a brief 45 minutes, girls separated from boys, taking what we each thought was the best way back to car. A little friendly competition, which ended in the girls successfully making it back and the boys needing to be picked up by car since they got lost. But, we won't hold it over their heads for much longer. We ended our day with dinner...again, please see resolution number one.
     We laughed, we talked, we spent the day without worrying (resolution #5 - stress less, be blessed), we spent some time in silence, in wonder and awe, and listening, perhaps, only the heart beat of each other, found in the sound of our footsteps. It was a beautiful day and I wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other day. Nature is my favorite place to be. I spent the day in a beautiful place, with beautiful people, in a beautiful way. What more could I ask for? We documented some of the 24 hours together in joyous videos and pictures, but only because one of my goals was to make more home videos. You know, so my future family members can enjoy all the stories I have after I've forgotten them (please note: not a resolution, but more so, #lifegoal). I felt incredibly blessed and even though I was beginning to feel a cold coming on, I was happy. Stuffy and happy.
     The beginning of a cold became a full cold by Monday morning, and I was grateful for an additional day off to recoup as much as possible. I went to Mass and spent some time with the Sisters at St. Katherine's since I hadn't seen them all break (not the norm for me!). I had to bail out on the rest of the day, though, since the cold really was bogging me down minute by minute. A day spent snuggled in bed with my dog was what the rainy day called for. When I woke up, I decided it was time to get cracking on some resolutions, some goals and some writing. I opened a fresh journal and from the comfort of my own bed, re-visited the warmer, sunny weather, the mountains and foothills of Valley Forge, and of course, the laughter and stories from yesterday. Now we all know that writing down goals makes them more tangible and so, I did it. I wrote them down. In addition to the three I've already mentioned, I also have #3 write more often, #4 deepen my prayer life and #6 do something (anything) big and life-changing. It's day three of the new year and I can say that I'm well on my way with #1, 2, 3, and 5. As for 4 and 6, well maybe it's because I'm not the only one involved that I'm off to a slow start of accomplishment. But hey, 4 out of 6 ain't bad.
     I never was one for resolutions but as I get older, I find, there's always a reason to do better, to do more. And I found that if I make one big resolution, I can find little ways to make it happen. So my umbrella resolution, whether or not I maintain 1-6, is to be more mindful of the beauty around me - the beauty of God, of others and of self. Beauty is my word of reflection this year and I pray that I'll be able to be more open to finding beauty, even in the debbie downer moments. I hope and pray and that I'll be able to look at the new life after death and not focus on the death. And I pray that 2017 really becomes the beautiful year I am expecting of it.
     People often say, "New Year, New Me." But I've learned in recent years to be true to the authentic me. Of course, in order to be authentically true to myself, I need to find out who I am. And I've accomplished that - I am so self-aware these days. And besides, I like who that person is when she is authentic (note: not when I'm grumpy or not being truly me). So why, new year, new me? Instead, I'm choosing to say, "New Year, New Perspective." And that perspective will be putting on glasses that show all things as beautiful. Call them rose-colored, if you must. But for me and my year, they will show beauty. Please know of my prayers for you as you start out your new year. May you, too, find reason to see beauty instead of darkness. Peace.

 

An Open Letter to the Class of 2016

“Before you can live a part of you has to die. You have to let go of what could have been, how you should have acted and what you wish you would have said differently. You have to accept that you can’t change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or yours. When you finally recognize that truth then you will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of yourself and others. From this point you will finally be free.”  - Shannon Adler 

My students once asked if I ever blog about them. Little do they know that so many of my reflections are inspired by their awesomeness, their amazing desire to dive deeper into a relationship with Jesus and their overall wonderful, beautiful, and contagious personalities. Class of 2016, this one is specifically for you. 

To the Amazing, Beautiful, and Wonderful Class of 2016, 

First let me start by saying, I am astounded every day by your intelligence, your compassion, and your willingness to do that which is asked of you. You take each challenge and not only succeed but rather you go above and beyond. I asked for a mile, you gave me a road trip - a road trip I'll never forget! Sometimes I think - wow, these kids are so much more smarter than I will ever be. And you know what, that's okay. In fact, I'm so proud you're smarter than me. Because when you get out to the real world, you'll pick up where I left off. Thank for being not only smart but crazy about learning and discovering new things. 

You are some of the funniest people I know. I could be having the worst day - no coffee, traffic on the turnpike, everything going wrong - and then I walk into the classroom where 18, 10 or even 2 of you are looking back at me ready to take on the day. One of you starts, then the rest join in. Soon we are laughing much longer than the break allows and we've already lost ten minutes of class. Suddenly my day is turned upside down and I've found my reason for living again. You are always willing to share a smile with me in the hallway as you shout my name. You sometimes think it's funny to shout my name from undisclosed locations and then watch me try to figure out who was calling me. Then from amidst the crowds of students, your smiling face emerges with your cohort of laughing friends. 

You are also some of the most dedicated human beings on this planet. You have shown me that 3am has nothing on you because you're going to get a good grade, make the best retreat number or plan the greatest charity event. You have also told me that the wee hours of the morning when no one else is awake (aside from your 136 classmates) is when you do your best thinking. Maybe that's why you're all smarter than me. The wee hours of the mornings are when you make the best friendships whether it's on the weekend during a heart to heart at a sleepover or you're face-timing your project partner, hoping she's still awake because you just had an eureka moment. I love that about you - you're dedication to your school work but also to each other. 

And speaking of your dedication to each other - you've renewed my sense of self, too. Having gone to a school like yours, I remember making friendships like you have now. Everyday I see you laughing with your friends, I remember my friends. I remember to call them and tell them I love them even though we're half a world away sometimes. You're confidence in yourself and in others in the classroom, on the field or court or on the stage reminds me of the unquenchable desires I had in high school. Knowing you this year has made me remember to go back to chasing my dreams, too. Not that teaching you isn't living the dream, but the other dreams I made for myself. You remind me to do that. 

You are some of the most talented students I know - whether you're running homeruns, singing opera, dancing solo, making baskets, making robots, creating unique images of art, cruising down the river, running or jumping or throwing, writing poems or stories that rip my heart out, singing songs that satisfy the soul, or simply being true to who you are in every which way - you never cease to amaze me by your talent. Sometimes I think, if I ever have my own kids - I hope they are at least half the people you are. You shine brighter than the stars in the Chapel sky. Actually, there are no sun glasses that can protect against your shine it's so bright. I'm so blessed to have been able to bask in those rays. 

And finally, you are some of the most uniturnt people I know. Wow. I never thought Jesus could reach so many hearts. Thank you for sharing the states of your hearts with me on our retreats. Thank you for making retreat the most fulfilling part of my job. Thank you for the laughs and tears we all shared. Thank you for always bringing my favorite snacks, too! Thank you for letting me sleep and allowing me to be a happy princess. Thank you for sharing your truest selves with me - your best selves are your retreat selves. 

A letter to the graduates wouldn't be complete without some advice and so, while it's only been 6 years since I graduated high school, here's what I have for you: 

Branch out - meet people who are so different from you. Have at least one or two non-catholic friends who deeply practice their faith. Share your talents and use them to teach others. Don't stick with just your teammates. Have friends much different from your life experiences. Don't let yourself simply be comfortable. 

Of course, while you're branching out, make sure you call your friends every so often. Send a quick Bitmoji in the grext. Get together on holiday breaks, visit each other at college, and send snail mail. A quick little card to say hi can go a long way. The girls you are friends with now will be your friends forever, not matter how your circumstances change. I can promise you that. 

Let's talk school cafeteria/dining hall/dining hell. It can be the most intimidating place on the planet/college campus. Make sure you find a big table in the caf - a table that can seat all your new friends and then anyone who might look lost. If you find someone who looks a little intimidated by the caf or all alone, invite them to sit with you. If you are that person, don't be too scared to ask if a seat is taken. You might find some of your best friends this way. I did. Don't be afraid of the food choices - they make mom or dad's home-cooking even better. Cafeteria food keeps you humble and makes you grateful. It will probably be terrible but if you have good friends and an inclusive table set-up, it'll be worth it. You'll learn to use your creativity in a whole new way. 

And finally, academics. Chances are, you will be smarter or more able to adapt to the college setting than most of your peers. Don't let that be an excuse to slack off. Stay on top of things and stay sharp. Your teachers will be rather impressed with you. They might even ask you to teach a lesson or two. Don't be embarrassed. Just do it. And if any professor asks you to take any risks like touch a sheep's lung, diagram the Our Father, or perform a monologue, be the first to volunteer. You're professors will fall in love with you and those professors will be the ones who will write you the best recommendation letters for jobs, internships and grad school. So basically be yourself and keep doing what you've been doing for the past four years. And don't forget the tradition of thanking your professor. Once, that's all a professor wrote about in my rec letter - that I thanked him. 

I once heard a priest start a homily by saying - I remember the first time I fell in love. And so I start my last words to you the same way: I remember when I fell in love (not for the first time, but in a whole new way, whole new place). My first memories of the class of 2016 was at the Junior retreat when you all hated me for making you flip a tarp with just your feet. I received a number of half-hearted threats that day from perhaps some of the sassiest people I know. That's when I knew - I was really going to love these girls. And it's true. I fell in love that day. 

I never expected a group of students to change my life the way you did. You challenged me to be a better teacher, a better Campus Minister and a better person. You made me laugh harder than I've ever laughed in front of a group of people. You made me sing. You made me dance. You made me fall more in love with life. I know, for sure, that I will miss you each so much. And I will be praying for you every day of your college career as I watch you all make the world a better place. I'm not sure who will be my rays of sunshine, my smiles and my reason for waking up in the morning - but I know when you come back to visit, I'll be reminded of how much you truly changed my life. 

The truth is, because I knew you, I have been changed for good. Not for the good, but for good - you know, for eternity. 

I love you. BWYFA always <3

Sincerely,

Me

Working for the Angels

"To the servant of God, every place is the right place, 

and every time is the right time."

- St. Catherine of Siena 

     WANTED: Servant of God

     SKILLS AND SPECIFICATIONS: flexible personality; cheerful disposition; ability to listen to others and speak with confidence; generous and humble attitude; faithfulness in all things; willingness to get hands dirty and work hard to get things done; ability to keep things in confidence; ability to discern; must be good at fishing; and most importantly the ability to be the face of Love, God, for anyone and everyone. 

     DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES: to hold fragile hearts and hands gently; to serve God and not man; to trust in the utmost power of God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit; to give gratitude for all things, good and bad; to give of oneself completely; to love greatly.

     HOURS: 24/7

     PAYMENT RATE: amount of grace equal to hours spent in serving, loving, praying, and giving. 

 

"I have called you by name, you are mine."

Isaiah 43:1

      Rebecca is the wife of Isaac, a name familiar to those who have heard the stories of the Old Testament. She is a dutiful wife and loving mother. Her name means two things: "captivating" and "Servant of God." Her beauty is captivating as in it entrances men and women alike. Her beauty takes a hold of one even if only momentarily. And she is a servant of God, according to the Hebrew definition. 

       I'm not so sure my parents were thinking of this when they named me "Rebecca," based upon the story I've been told. However, I do not believe in coincidence. I truly believe it was God's inspiration that encouraged my parents to settle on my name. Now, I go by many nicknames - Bec, Becca, Becky. But Rebecca - it's meaning is so rich. 

      I remember when I first found out the meaning of my name - it was Junior English class. I had to write a narrative on the meaning of my name OR why I was given my name. I chose both, because they needed to be written about together. Ever since I did my research for that paper, I have vowed to keep true to my name's high and rich meaning. Servant of God. Those three words have played a part in my life much larger than any one person can imagine. It has lead me to my current job, my beliefs on how I should life and of course, my core mission in life. 

     To be a servant of God means to answer God's every call. It does not simply mean to answer the one big question - to which vocation am I called? It means so much more. It means to wake up every morning and ask God to use one's life in the way God most desires - not how I desire. It means to be so attuned to God's voice that at any given moment, one can answer His call. It can be a call to love when it's difficult, to be a face of mercy, to listen, to hold, to be gentle, to be a calming force, to be a dynamic promoter of justice, to remain silent or to be a force to be reckoned with, to be there for a friend or stranger or to fight for social justice on a grander scale, to pray with or for someone, and so much more. It can be as simply as asking if another needs help. Or as difficult as making a decision. To be a servant of God means to be ready, to always be ready to do what God needs. 

     To be a servant of God means trusting a lot. I used to stress about things getting done a lot. But I developed a deep trust in God. I know that if God is asking me to take on a big project, I need to trust that the other things I have planned are going to get accomplished as well. I can only describe this by giving the example of retreat. I was asked to help out in a very large way for a friend's retreat. I looked at my calendar and wondered where the time would come from. But I know so deeply that retreat is God's work and I knew then in that moment that is was not my friend, but God asking me to take on this seemingly large project. I said yes, but wondered how God would allow everything else I needed to do in those weeks to get accomplished. I simply trusted He would get it done. And we did. To be a servant of God means that God has plans and He's going to have your best interest at heart. There is always a reason He asks big projects of His servants. And He will always listen to your needs. Being a servant of God means trusting that. 

      To be a servant of God means mostly that one must love and love greatly. I can not fathom God's love for me, but I know how much I love my students. I know that I am moved to tears when I see them accomplish something and I barely know them. But I love them that much. I know how much I love my family. I know that I would rather be with them. I know that I would do anything for them. I know how much I love my friends. I know that their happiness is what makes me the happiest even if it comes at a personal expense. Whatever I can sacrifice to help calm their fears, eliminate their anxieties, or make their lives a little easier, I would do it. I can do it because I know how to love. But we all know that we cannot give what we do not have. And so if I can give and love so greatly and deeply, I must be loved by my God even more so. To be a servant of God is believing that. 

      Rebecca means servant of God and I know that my life has lead me to work for the angels. I do the Lord's work and it is always good work. Whether I am leading retreat, speaking with students or co-workers, being with friends, praying for my family or anything, as long as I am doing the Lord's work, I am doing good work. And honestly, it's not easy work all the time. But I know that in the end, it is the most rewarding work and at the same the most humbling work. I work for the angels, I work for the big guy. Every aspect of my life means living and working for my God. Whether I am teacher, sister, friend, I am still doing God's work. Whether I am Sister or Mother or Wife, I am still doing God's work. And when one does the Lord's work, it makes one beautiful. Not physically captivating, but rather there is such beauty in the heart that God's light radiates and shines out from every orifice of one's body - or so I've been told. Being a servant of God is the biggest honor and the best part is that you don't have to be named "Rebecca" to be one. 

TO APPLY: simply say "Yes, Lord."

    

     

When Nostalgia Hits Hard

"I know I would apologize if I could see your eyes, 

'cause when you showed me myself, I became someone else. 

May God's love be with you always."

- Aron Wright, "In the Sun"

     Last night, I was sitting at the picnic tables outside DC with my younger sister. We were eating Rita's water ice and enjoying the beautiful weather. We were with some other people but the conversation was really mine and my sister's. "I swear we are actually twins. You're the only one who understands my laughs and giggles," Mary said. It's true. My Mommom would also get frustrated whenever the two of us were together. We would laugh so hard, so loud and so ugly and Mommom could never understand why. Tears would fall down our faces, and they still do every time we tell the same stupid stories over and over again. As we laughed and cried last night, one of the Sisters who was with us, tried to understand as we rapid fire told story after story. I'm not sure what she got from our conversation, but I hope it was at least entertaining with her. 

      One of my favorite quotations from the Office is said by Andy: "I wish we knew we were in the good old times when we were in the good old times." When I left campus last night, so many nostalgic memories flooded my mind. I remembered the nickname we had for the people who used to sit at the picnic tables from my Freshmen year and laughed. Last night, we were those people. I remembered memories from campus, from friendships, from traveling and from my family. When nostalgia hits, it hits so hard but it hits so good. 

       My sister is currently experiencing the awesome memory-making campus I was blessed to have four years at. Sometimes, I admit, I live vicariously through her and her friends. I love watching her experiencing things for the first time like course registration, Cisco and the first day of good weather on back campus. I love watching her go through frustrating courses only to come out a stronger and better person. I like watching her make relationships with people I know NOT because she's Becca's sister, but because she is Mary. I love watching her fall in love with the same things I did and get frustrated with the things that frustrated me. But I also love watching her forge her own path. Actually, that's my favorite part. I love hearing the Sisters tell me: she's not much like you. Good for her. Let her be her own self. 

       The best part of my sister being her true self is that it makes our relationship so great. When people tell me they can't stand their brothers or sisters, I have no grounds of understanding that. Mary and I didn't always have the greatest relationship, but as we got older, the closer we became. We developed our own language, our own memories and our own arguments. We have our own trigger words - aka the words that trigger fits of laughter. Words like goose, Blake Shelton and *screech*. We are so close and we keep such good secrets. And every so often, like last night, we let a few people in on those stories and secrets. That's when those people become family.

      When my sister and I are together, we tag team. We make sarcastic comments for everything. We make up stories about strangers. We make up stories about really weird things we see. And we often entertain whoever is around us whether those people are strangers, friends or family. We are always making people laugh. My sister is my best friend and I love that I have her in my life. She is sometimes the only person who makes life worth living. And nights like last night are my favorite nights. Those are the nights that make me so nostalgic. 

      Like I said, as I was driving home, I was still laughing about the stories we didn't share. She was probably in her room laughing, too. These moments get me so nostalgic about the good old times. And yet, I know we are only 19 and 24 years old - we have plenty of good old times ahead of us. Sometimes I really miss the days when we would play kickball in the street, sing at the family parties, or skip school to go to the beach on a windy day. I miss the days when we would go downtown and get hotdogs from the hotdog truck (before Mary hated hotdogs). I miss the days of the long bike rides up and down the canal. And yet, some of the moments I miss the most get re-created every single time we are together. I miss moments that don't even exist yet like weddings, parties, and vacations in the future. 

      Being with my sister makes me so nostalgic for the moments we spent with people who are no longer with us, like my Mommom. Mary makes me nostalgic for memories that we could never have again, like going to Rome (what's up with the bells?!?). But Mary is also the person who gives me the wind in my hair, driving down the expressway with the windows down and belting the words to my favorite song feeling. Mary gives me the feeling of being complete. Mary gives me the feeling every sister should have, best friend, family and worst enemy all tied into one. She's made me who I really am and she's also allowed me to grow comfortable with who I am. Because I know even two years, there's no way I would have laughed my true laugh with Sister last night. 

     When nostalgia hits, it hits hard and it hits so good. Because usually it hits when I'm with my sister. And then I realize how blessed I truly am. 

TBD - A Reflection on Who I Am

"What a life I would've missed, 

if you'd not took a chance.

I wasn't expecting that."

- Jamie Lawson "Wasn't Expecting That"

      I've been struggling to write this post for almost a month and a half. Today is Easter and last night, at the Easter Vigil, I decided I was finally going to write it. So far this year, I've been to a funeral a month. If I wasn't going to be on a service trip with my students this week, I'd be going to another one. At every funeral there is a remembrance for the deceased, whether it comes in the form of poem, eulogy or song. It is during this time that family members and friends, say all the great things about the deceased. What they were like, who they were, what they liked to do, etc. Having been to so many funerals recently, I've been lead on a introspective journey on who I am. Me. Gutherman.
      It's a question I ask every single retreat group: who are you? It's a question I seemingly expect 17 and 18 year olds to answer easily. But heck, as much as I think I know who I am, I do not know. Yet, every time I have my students reflect on the question, I want to know who they think they are. And I go through these periods when I am so confident who I am then others when I have no idea. The past few months, I've been searching and struggling with trying to find my true self again. I feel like I've been lost and it's partly because I lost a huge part of my heart in January. But last night, at the Easter Vigil, I started to feel a glimpse of who I am again. It's like I'm raising again from my own grave of sadness, grief and mourning. Even if I've put on a happy face for the past few months, it's been a struggle. But last night...last night, I felt the earth shake.
       From before I was born, the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament have influenced my life. That is not an exaggeration. My nun obsession started young. At only a few weeks old, I was held dearly by those sisters. They prayed for me, they loved me and they were my earliest faith influences aside from my family. But at this rate, they basically are my family. I have vivid memories of going to the SBS Convent for Christmas Eve Mass, having milk and cookies after. I remember so many moments of visiting with the sisters for many occasions. From the beginning of my faith life, they were some of the biggest influences. I knew this, of course, but I didn't really understand their influence until last night.
      For the past two years, on Easter Vigil, I have had the privilege and honor of singing at the convent for Mass. Last year I was so nervous, but this year I was confident. More confident than I've felt in a long time. And man did it feel amazing to sing again. Not just singing along to the radio or with the choir in church, actually utilizing my vocal training, my breathing, and letting my voice rise to the Heavens in praise of my Jesus. I felt beautiful being able to use my gift for Jesus again. And then we sang some more, using bells and dancing and clapping. We sang the gloria so loud. We sang Alleluia. We sang Hosanna. We danced, we joined hands, and cried out our praise. We, young and old, sisters, lay people, children, parents, priests. I watched the Sisters in the Balcony dance and clap along. With a big smile, I let myself freely worship. And that's when I realized that part of who I am is SBS, African American and Native American spirituality.
      I've always felt a deep connection with the spirituality presented to me by the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament. Of course, I've always felt a deep connection with the Blessed Sacrament, given to me by the Sisters' example. Even the sight of Him in the Blessed Sacrament at Mass brings me to tears. That love of the Eucharist was nourished in me, in High School, by the example of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. You see, it wasn't out of the ordinary for me to stop in the beautiful Chapel at Nazareth during lunch, study or before/after school and see a Sister there as well. Many times it was Sister David, my mentor, sister and now friend. At other times, I would see the sisters in prayers before supper (yes, I stayed at school that late...poor SMJ). Then I began spending more time with the Sisters, who then were my mentors, who are now some of my closest friends. Then and now we spend time together walking, talking, and praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament. There's no thing like friends sending you a text that says, "I think we need to spend more time with Jesus...when are you free?" or a simple invitation to celebrate Mass together (even if it's a two hour long mass in a foreign language. Whether or not they're on the vocation team, they're constantly checking in on my relationship with Jesus. Of course my relationship with so many of the Sisters, makes it completely normal for them, while passing through my town on Easter Sunday, to follow me in the nun car while I'm out walking my dogs. And to, of course, roll down the windows and yell my name! It's because of them that I have a love for Church tradition and family. They are my family. And part of who I am is CSFN, family-loving, Polish wannabe.
       It's funny how my life, when I look back, seems to fall into place. It's because of a CSFN that I ended up at Immaculate with the IHMs. She encouraged me to branch, live my life and not be afraid to embrace a place that I felt was calling me home. She was the first one I told where I was going to college and was always supportive. Because of her I met the IHMs...and it was about time. Yet another group of faith-filled women who shaped me even more into the young woman that I am and made me a true educator. They showed me a truly sassy side to religious life, gave an even more reality to religious women and living in community. They became mentors during some of the hardest years of my life, became women I could cry with, and teachers who pushed me to be the best student (and teacher) I could be. They employed me, trusted me and gave me so many opportunities. They tested me many times: as I told one student, "You'll be a better person because she's reprimanding you right now." But most importantly, they were the faith family for four years of my life. They were the ones who opened their arms when I joined them for Mass every single day, prayed with them, sang with them, and developed a deeper relationship with Jesus because of them. Of course, I can't forget how they instilled a love in my heart for the immigrant, for the refugee and for Peru. I always wanted to be a teacher, but they showed me how - by example and by opportunity. Who I am is part IHM, educator, vocalist, and lover of creative hope.
       Just like how one CSFN led me to Immaculate, one IHM taught me everything I needed to know for my current job. Without every opportunity she gave me on my resume, there's no way I could have made it this far as a Campus Minister. Without her, I wouldn't know how to run a retreat, teacher girls to pray, when to love tough and when to give tough love, or how to stay organized in an office full of chaos. Without her, I never would have met the SSJs who share my love for Social Justice. Well, really it's a burning passion. I never knew that when I insisted on taking French for four years in High School that I would learn and teach with a community with French roots. They, too, have pushed me to be a better me, become friends and sisters, and given me the opportunity of a life time -to do what I have always really desired - bring young women to Jesus. It's because of them that I get to spend a week with my students serving the dear neighbor - doing what I spent most of my college time doing. And so truly, part of me is SSJ, servant to the dear neighbor, preacher of social justice.
        I could easily stop there but truly I'm a Heinz 57 of religious communities. I could say part of who I am is Franciscan: barefoot, one with the earth, lover of nature - creating life with Mother Earth. I could say part of me is Carmelite, the contemplative piece of me who would rather sit in silence with Jessica Powers, St. Teresa of Avila or St. Therese. And I could say part of me is even Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters (Pink Sisters) because of my love for adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, for I could spend hours in adoration of my Jesus.
       So who am I? It's a question I've been grappling with for a few months. I'm an Irish girl, with a German last name and Italian heritage. I love food, eating it, making it, giving it. I love making things with my hands, creating art and giving life to ideas and concepts. I love being in the garden, planting, having dirt in my hands and speaking to the plants. I love walking or sitting by the river, breathing in the fresh (?) air of the Delaware. I love driving in the car for long hours in silence or with music on. I love sitting by the fire, singing, roasting marshmallows or praying, yes, praying. I love laughing so hard my stomach hurts. I love hugs - long, cuddly, embraces that make me feel safe and loved. I love singing so loud and strong that by the end of my jam session or Mass, I've lost my voice. I love playing games, dancing for no reason or every reason at all and I love spending time in silence with people. I love reading - cheesy romance novels or the lives of the saints (which sometimes are cheesy romance novels). I love writing, going to diners, spending hours talking with people who were first mentors, then friends, and always sisters. I love telling stories, listening to stories and being part of stories. I love loving deep and strong and hard. I'm from Croydon so I'm tough, but I also know that the greatest thing we have in this world is each other. And most of all, I love being with my family, whether they share my last name, my bloodline, or my faith. Who I am is all of this and yet more to be discovered. Who I am is all I am and all I am not. But I am she who dances and claps in church, who loves too fiercely and lives for each moment and each memory. All this from one song and dance with my Sisters: Hosanna! Blessed be the rock, blessed be the rock of my Salvation!