Charism Connection

"Discernment has no beginning or ending; it lasts a lifetime.

It can change form, however, from a conversation and prayer

between you and God, to conversation and prayer

between you, God and your future spouse."

     Last weekend, I had the pleasure (truly, it is a pleasure) of traveling with five of my students and a colleague to Cleveland, Ohio, for our annual CSSJ Leadership Conference. It is during this conference that our students learn not only the importance of the charism, mission and history of the Sisters of Saint Joseph, but also the importance of being an active participant in it and furthering it through their lives as lay people. It is also during this conference that I am reminded of the importance of lay people ministering in the church. And thus, my most recent reflection. 

     There is no question that this blog began as a blog documenting the serious discernment of a young woman trying to find her vocation. There is no question that this blog remains the documentation of a young woman seriously discerning her vocation in life. Do I sound redundant? I have gone back and forth with deciding to blog about my recent engagement. We went back and forth about posting it on social media. But like all things, we took it to prayer and made a decision best for our hearts. So, I write this not because I feel I need to explain myself. But rather, because in the depths of my heart, I feel the need to express my blessings. 

      Joe and I decided to not post our engagement until about two weeks after the fact. He proposed to me on my 25th birthday and for about two weeks, we visited with friends and family, made phone calls and enjoyed sharing our joy as a newly engaged couple. We decided on a date, we decided on a venue, but we were still discerning how to spread the news to those we might not be able to visit or call; it would simply take our entire engagement to let people know. We decided that the easiest way was the make a subtle post on Facebook.

      I'll be honest, I was unsure about it. I didn't want to answer questions I felt people shouldn't ask. But God works in ways I will never understand. We were only met with complete support. You see, despite having been in a dating relationship with Joe for three years, I had previously very seriously discerned religious life. Many people who knew me in different ways, knew that I was always open about that discernment. But, I was also very open about dating Joe, too. Believe me when I say that dating him took a year of intense prayer and saying yes to him asking me to be his wife took three long years of prayer, getting to know him and myself better, and building an atmosphere of trust and love. It was far from a rash decision. 

      

     In the middle of our dating relationship, I came home from a trip with some of my friends who also happen to be religious sisters. I remember asking Joe to walk with me and talk with me about my experience. I was trying to break up with him. He held my hand as I told him how I felt and he simply said, "I will be there for you in the church when you make your vows, whether to the church or to me. I'll always be there for you." Needless to say, that set my confused heart free. Knowing that he would support me in either vocation was enough to make me love him even more, as cliche, perhaps, as it is to say. He's simply been one of my biggest supports for seven years. 

     And so, our relationship developed even more. We prayed together and on our own. My discernment, my conversation between me and God, changed forms. It wasn't just me and God anymore; it was me, God and Joe. And I have no doubt that God's hand has been in our relationship the entire time. Before we started our exclusive dating relationship, we both went to different countries. I went for mission work and he went for a pilgrimage. We took those two weeks apart to pray for each other and about our relationship. Simply put, I missed him. God has blessed me with Joe as my best friend in so many circumstances. He's the one who goes to every school function with me and seemingly loves my students more than I could love them. He cheers their teams on, gives them standing ovations and supports their charity events. He spends late nights with me shopping for retreat and sacrifices so much for me. He works long days and still makes it a priority to spend as much time as he can with me. 

     I think the most important thing about Joe is that he makes me laugh. Whether we are singing at the top of our lungs to Broadway music, kicking each other under the table as we play cards or making up stories just to pass the time, he makes me smile. He makes friends with every person he meets and constantly tries to cheer up the cashiers at Target. He tells funny stories and always tries to get people to smile. And when I'm having a really bad day, he just reminds me of all the funny moments we've shared together. He brings out the best in me. 

      So how does this connect with my CSSJ Leadership Conference? Well there's one small link. Sister Phyllis told the students that learning charism, mission and history is important because it's as if the founding sisters have found these students and said, "tag, you're it." On the last night in Cleveland, Sister Phyllis and I drove together in the car and I got to fill her in on the last year of my life. We had met three years previously and stay in touch as much as time allows. After filling her in, I thanked her. Not only for listening, but for teaching me, hands-on, how important lay people are in the ministry of the church. 

      While I had always believed that all vocations are equal in value, I didn't realize how important the lay ministry is in furthering the charism, mission and history of the sisters for whom one might work or by whom one was taught. In my own life, I have known well four communities of religious sisters. When I was discerning religious life, I was always unsure which community fit me best. I knew that was going to be the hardest decision and in truth, I felt connected to each so deeply. But in my conversation with Sister Phyllis she told me how special it makes me to have had all these experiences with so many communities. 

       Indeed, there are many aspects of each community that I hold deep in my heart. I've always felt so deeply connect to the Eucharist, family has remained an important staple in my life, I have a deep Marian devotion and I often invoke creative hope in many moments of life, but I also have a sincere passion for social justice. Besides, in each community there is some connection to Saint Joseph. So now, I have my own Joseph and within me burns these charisms, these missions, and yes, these histories. As a lay-woman, not only do I get to share these with my future spouse, but also with our children and with the people who I encounter day in and day out. I can further the charisms, missions and histories in simple conversation but also in the way I live. And this, perhaps, is why God sent me on this journey. 

      I know that I will never be able to figure out why God gave me this journey and I know that I still have so much to learn. But I know that God has never left my side, has never stopped answering my prayers, and will never stop being present in my life. I know that the outside world may be confused about my journey, but it's my journey and that journey includes Joe, and I am at peace with this beautiful journey. There is a story, there is trust, there is peace. And no, discernment is not over, I have not "made my decision" as if I was the cliffhanger everyone was waiting for. There are many decisions to be made, discernment will not end, it simply includes one more person. And with all this talk of charism, mission and history, well let me just say. My charism is this: Luke 2:19, my mission is furthering the church and my history is a herstory, but I'll save that for another time. 

B-E-A-U-tiful

"We are all different, too big, too small, too short, too tall. But the beauty of it is that God is still waiting for us anyway."

- S. Natanaela

     My most recent adventures have included a week long intensive course on Beauty and a spur of the moment road trip to Chicago with a nun. Has much changed in my life? Nope. Not at all. While I have been busier than ever in my life, God is still moving in my heart. My course was extremely difficult for me because of many reasons such as the length and intensive nature of the course, as well as the concepts presented. So many times the lectures consisted of various conventions of beauty - how one can label something beautiful. Some presented various definitions of what beauty is, some offered conceptions of beauty and some even gave instances of "real" art versus kitsch. Naturally, I disagreed with most of what was presented because I come from the viewpoint that what is beautiful to me might not be beautiful to someone else. I struggled a lot with the class but the following week of spur of the moment adventures gave me a whole new vantage point of beauty; one that confirmed my own personal beliefs of beauty. 

     My class presented various paintings, images, pieces of art, some literature and even music to us under different lights - good, bad, real, kitsch. I found myself in awe of some beautiful religious paintings while other people thought they were awful. I found certain pieces of music to be beautiful and for others it was painful. On the flip side, some people thought some pieces of music were so outrageously gorgeous while I felt like my ears were bleeding. As a musician, I felt like I had the upper hand. Of course, this isn't meant to be a rant about how much I pretty much hated my class. So I'll steer away from that now. What I want to get across is that what is beautiful to me might not be beautiful to another person. What I find to be the most beautiful things in life, like laughter, sunsets, ripples in the lake, holding hands, and even the faces of those I love, might not be the most beautiful things for others. Of course, for me, beauty is found in the simplest things. I don't need art and music to connect my soul with the divine. I need simply to be made aware by the presence of another soul. 

     My faith in beauty was restored the following week when I found myself driving 13.5 hours to Chicago on a grand adventure. It was a spur of the moment trip with one of my Sisters. I jokingly suggested we go, she jokingly said ok and then eventually we found ourselves traveling at the crack of dawn. She kept saying how hard it was to believe she was there...me, too. Did I really just drive halfway across the country with a nun in my car to go visit more nuns? Yep. Did I love every second of it? Yep. Was I prepared for what the week had in store for me? Absolutely not. 

     When we eventually arrived at the convent, we were greeted so warmly as friends, as sisters. I truly believe that the nuns helped shape me into the person I am today...the person who believes that food is love. I pretty sure every second I wasn't eating, I was asked if I was hungry! But that wasn't the best part; I was also taught how to make some perfect Polish dishes. I cannot wait to try them at home. After we had dinner together with the community, we headed on another adventure. It was during these few days of adventuring all over Illinois, that I had to come up with a paper for my past week's class. In my reflections on beauty I realized some most amazing things. 

      With my sisters, the conventions of beauty do not exist. By this I mean, I barely had to look in the mirror. It didn't matter if I didn't wear make-up, had frizzy hair, or even if I wore the same outfit twice in one week. I looked at my sisters, who in the morning, were just as stinky breathed, frizzy haired, and groggy-eyed as I was. There was no questioning my need for adventure when I jumped in the water fully clothed. It didn't matter how much or how little I ate, how skinny or how fat I was. It didn't matter if my hair stuck out in all the wrong places even though it was in a ponytail. The worldly conventions of beauty did not matter with them and it's not because we were at the convent. Yes, it's true that sisters don't necessarily abide by the worldly conventions of beauty. But the reason I felt so beautiful in my Sisters' presence was because of their radiating beauty. 

      There was beauty in every story they told me about religious life, about their journey to meeting God, about the ups and downs of their day to day life. I found particular beauty in the way they spoke about the hardships they encountered and still experience. I discovered that my Polish sisters are some of the strongest women I know because of all the sacrifices they have made for their vocation. There was beauty in every moment of laughter and trust me, we laughed a lot. I laughed until it hurt. I laughed until I had tears rolling down my cheeks. There was beauty in every Polish accented English word. There was beauty in every search for proper vocabulary. There was beauty in every step we took together or moment we spent. There was even beauty in the silence, too. 

       Many days we visited different holy places, different churches and shrines. In these moments at Mass or in adoration, I prayed so hard. So much was put on my heart, especially in terms of beauty. Religious life is not easy. This is something I have always known. But there is a beauty in it. As Sister David would say, "It's been hard, but I wouldn't change it for the world." I saw the beauty in their deep relationships with God and with one another. I felt beautiful simply by being in their presence. Whether we were walking together, talking together, sitting together, swimming together, whatever, there was beauty. They know that the beautiful is God's creation. The trust in His promise and His endless beauty. There really are no words to describe the feeling of true beauty, except that I know these women are some of the most beautiful women I know. 

       My week was a beautiful retreat in a way, despite it being so full of adventure. I was able to focus so clearly on God this past week. I felt peace and true beauty in being able to be my true self - obnoxious laugh and all. I felt so free in ways indescribable. I felt the love from the Father above and from my Sisters. I felt such immense peace from Jesus. There were many conversations I had that lead me in many reflective ways. Whether it was, "God already knows...you just have to answer," or "I don't think it's a matter of if, but when," I was lead back down the roads from which I have felt distance. I allowed myself to be curious about religious life again and pray like I had once before - freely, openly, with tears, with pain, with happiness. To say this past week was a blessing is an understatement...it was so much more. 

       Toward the end of the week, I found myself entering into conversations I never could have imagined. Conversations that involved me to be so vulnerable and so open with my Sisters. I have kept so much in my heart and pondered my thoughts, but I never spoke them. In my conversations I released some pains, some frustrations but mostly my joys of peace and knowledge of the Lord in my life. My Sisters allowed me to be dramatic at times, laugh and joke, and share my heart. They, in turn, shared their hearts with me. I never expected that such deep, positive relationships could come from this week, but God had different plans. 

      My Sisters opened yet another window to beauty for me. They reminded me that I do not need to be perfect to be loved. They reminded me that the worldly conventions of beauty are impossible and that I am beautiful in my own ways. They reminded me that it's okay to not know what I'm doing with me life, to be afraid, to be scared. But they also reminded me that peace comes from within, from my own relationship with God. Peace doesn't come from making other people happy. Peace and beauty exist when I allow myself to be freely me. They showed me this by their most beautiful example. 

      If I could define beauty, if I could find the right words to even describe this week, I would say, that my Sisters are beauty. They are the pathways to the divine. They are example of service, sacrifice, struggle, and strength. They are my crutch when I need them. They are my best friends. They are my Sisters and I feel so incredibly blessed to have them in my life. They have been examples of joy and peace...what happens when one surrenders to God's will. And at this moment, I feel like saying, "I'm back in the game!" I'm back in touch. I've wiped the dust from my feet. I'm ready to do His will, whatever it may be. Because at this moment, I feel peace, joy, and above all, beauty. True beauty; His beauty. There aren't adequate words to truly and fully describe how God moves the heart. But I can say that His moving in my heart lead me to tears many times this week and that's better than any words. I tried my best, but nothing will ever truly grasp how beautiful God's presence in my life was this week. 

How to Date a Discerner for Dummies Pt. 2

"Don't be afraid that a good guy 

won't love you because of your past. 

If he defines you by your past, 

he's not that good a guy."

- Jason Evert

    Okay, I know I promised that part two would come the day after but being a Campus Minister is sometimes overwhelming. We got back from our final Senior Retreat yesterday - I can breathe again. So like I said: this is a two part series. If you haven't read part one yet, I suggest you do that before continuing on this one. Here's the link: How to Date a Discerner for Dummies Pt. 1. 

     I have been known as many things: teacher, student, sister, friend, confidant, listener, nutcase, retreat leader, but most commonly - nun-to-be. It is true; for the past seven years I have openly discerned a vocation to the religious life. It's obvious by the way I act out my faith, the way I openly talk about the Sisters and my love for them, my knowledge of community, and obviously, this here blog. While at first I was shy about discerning, I have become more and more open about discerning due to the fact that a. I have a story to tell and b. God has asked me to share my story to bring others closer to Jesus. I have done as the Lord has asked, I have received backlash, but more importantly I have received support. 

     Many people have asked to here my story and so I've told it many times. I never introduce myself as Becca, the girl who wants to be a nun. However, it seems that people can just tell; I wear my heart on my sleeve. I mean if you google my first and last name, all that comes up are pictures of me and a bunch of nuns. So. Many. Nuns. Discernment has been a roller coaster of ups and downs and in-betweens. Sometimes there have been straight drops, or even loop-de-loops or upsidedowns. I've loved it. It's been an adventure. Discernment, being with the Sisters, who I consider my best friends, is amazing. No matter how hard it gets, I love it. 

     So, of course, you're probably wondering why I wrote/am writing about dating a discerner. Well, here's the thing. I'm a discerner with a boyfriend. Yes, I said it. (It literally took me ten minutes and a lot of prayer to even write that sentence). It may sound extremely confusing because well, nuns don't date, don't marry, don't have literal families. Yes, I know that. But discernment is a life-long journey and this is part of it. 

     I have fondly referred to him as "the other JC" in many blog posts. Joseph is his name and he pursued me relentlessly for an entire year before I finally said yes to dating him. We had gone to school together for four years. We were friends but we didn't get close until we both decided to do Orientation together for two years in a row. He would occasionally try to hang out with me over the summer but we live an hour from each other and it was difficult for us to get together. The Summer before our Senior year, I remember going on a walk during one of our breaks during Orientation. He was talking about a girl he liked, someone he knew from reenacting and how to go about asking her out. Of course, I said, "If I were her, I would love...." (Sometimes I think it was a ploy to get me to spill the beans!). Things never worked out with her and at the beginning of our Senior year he decided to tell me how much he liked me. 

     To any other boy on campus, I was "off-limits." Everyone knew, including Joe, that I had my heart set on the convent. I was going to pay off my loans as soon as possible and discern entrance into a community. You know what the say about plans: if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. On occasion, Joseph would ask me on a date and I wold deny. Although one night after a long play practice, I was starving and I agreed to going out (very late) to the diner for breakfast at midnight. As I sat across the table from him, I found myself thinking: if only he had come around a few years before, I might have given this a chance. He opened the doors to his car and the building for me, he helped me with my jacket, he paid for my meal, he offered his arm for me to hold onto him so I wouldn't fall, he smiled gently, I questioned the plans I had. 

      There were a few other instances when I found myself agreeing to attending senior events with him but only as friends. I was sure that even if I did say yes to a date I would eventually break his heart. My fear of that combined with my heart feeling so ready for the convent pulled me away from him. Yet, full aware that the convent was still my choice, he pursued me in the purest ways possible: going to Mass (Sunday and daily) with me, joining the choir, praying with me, reading with me, learning more and more about his Catholic faith for and from me, and even going on retreat with me. He would leave me notes about praying for me and sometimes drop off flowers. He was so gentle and loving; it was hard not to find myself in chapel many nights in tears because I might have been falling for him. 

     I continued to go to discernment retreats with the Sisters and spend oodles of time with them. I was so happy and content after being with them that I was still so sure of my vocation. Yet, God would send Joseph into the Chapel sometimes while I was there. He would send him to my bedroom after I had ignored text after text just to have him hug me while I cried about not knowing. God sent Joe to be my escort to the Senior Ball dance during which I had so much fun being with the only other completely sober one in the room. We drove home at one in the morning blasting the same acoustic folk song the entire way laughing about all the fun moments we had just as friends. 

     I loved Joe for becoming one of my closest friends my Senior year of college but even at Baccalaureate Mass, while I was singing in the Motherhouse Chapel for the IHMs, I felt my heart bursting with joy and love for my vocation. Joe never made Baccalaureate as he was on a two week long pilgrimage/vacation with his family. The week before he came home, I left for Peru again with my best friend and a few other crazy girls and nuns. I had fallen in love even more with my vocation there. So why, only a week after coming home from Peru, did I say yes when Joe asked if he could introduce me to his reenacting unit as his girlfriend? Well, here it goes....

     Joe has done everything I mentioned in my previous post. He treated me like a princess before I ever said yes and has continued to treat me like a princess. He has never once pressured me into doing anything that would take me away from my vocation like other young men might. He was never in this to "get the girl" but rather to protect my heart. He saw something about me that even I didn't see in myself. He taught me to accept my beauty. He taught me that I'm worth it, a battle I have long fought. He taught me that I deserve every ounce of dignity and respect he gives me. He reminded me day after day that he was praying for me in my discernment. All this and we were only just friends. 

     I used to say that I had had my bout of dating. But the more I thought about it, the relationships I had in 8th and 9th grade were far from a true dating relationship. They were with young men, who after a while, wanted more than I could give. The more I thought about those relationships, the more I realized that they didn't know how to or weren't in this relationship to protect my heart. They weren't true dating relationships. Which, let me define a true dating relationship real quick: going on dates, just you and him; spending time walking down streets and holding hands; spending time having conversations in which you contemplate great works of literature or music; praying for one another; making the relationship about two people not one; and much more. In some way, I was disrespected in these relationships. It wasn't a real shot at discerning marriage - what dating truly ends up to be. 

      When I got so serious about religious life, I decided that the dating scene was no longer for me. Yet, once again God had different plans. Joe, the man with the same initials as Jesus, was sent into my life. Telling you that I spent nights crying and praying about dating him is an understatement. It was so hard. Letting someone love you is a very difficult thing to do, especially when it's hard to love yourself. Yet, God sent Joe to me in the most beautiful ways possible. 

      The Sisters tell me that I should pursue a real dating relationship before I enter so I know both sides of the story. Many Sisters have told me that their boyfriends were the ones, who after praying with them for so long, helped their final decision to enter the convent. Perhaps that is what Joe is meant to do for me; be the true and pure dating relationship and the one to help me fully understand my decision to enter religious life. It's scary sometimes, but I can now months later, openly admit that I am dating someone that God sent me. I am dating, I am discerning marriage and I am discerning religious life at the same time. And how, you may ask? Well let me just tell you a story. 

     Last night I had just come home from our last Senior Retreat. Joe was at work and I felt the desire to go out (despite being utterly exhausted). I went where my heart lead me. I came home to find a letter addressed to me from one of the Sisters. I took that as my sign to go see them. Within an hour I found myself traveling in a car full of nuns to the movie theater. As we watched the movie, we cried, linked arms, laughed, and had deep conversation about the movie after. When we got home, I found myself in the community room at almost ten at night chatting with one of my lifelong Sister friends about life. I called Joe when I got home and told him about my Nunny adventure. However, the whole ride home, I had tears of joy and question rolling down my face. 

      I still see my Sisters often. If I don't see them, I write them or text them or call them. I still discern my vocation to religious life. I love them, I love being with them, praying with them and loving others with them. There are nights when I tell Joe that I need to pray alone or journal, and he understands. He understands that I do not belong to him simply because we are dating. He knows that I, regardless of my vocation, belong to God. He is fully aware that I may still enter religious life. Every day he reminds me that he's praying for me as I discern my vocation.

     The truth is this: I have spoken to a few Sisters about this current dating relationship and they are happy. They are happy that I am happy. And I am, this is true. I still feel so much a part of me belongs to the Sisters and I will continue to discern with them. I know there will come a point and time where I will either have to break up with Joe or I will have to "break up" with the Sisters. Either way, I feel called to serve the Lord. I have given my life to Him already and the license to do with it as He pleases. I belong to the Lord. I am His. My heart belongs to God and I trust Him. God put Joe in my life for a reason and whether that reason is to simply so me love and self-worth or to spend the rest of his life with, I know that this is all God's plan. Of course, if I do enter religious life, I want him there with me. Heck, I'd love for him to be the one to drop me off at formation, wherever that may be, and hug me goodbye for a little while. I want him and his family there next to my family (oh that's the other great thing...his mom and grandmom and aunt all prayed and still pray for my vocation before Joe and I even started dating). I want Joe to be there when I make final vows. I want Joe to be a part of it, because he is only in my life because God wants him here. 

     So, that;s that. I finally admitted to having a boyfriend, after about nine months. I admitted to still discerning a vocation to religious life. I admitted all the things that so many people already knew. I am God's. I am my Beloved's and my Beloved is mine. Jesus and I are still as in love as we were before Joe came into my life. And yes, I love Joe, too, for He is the one currently protecting my heart. I am blessed beyond all measurement. If you have any questions concerning my current state in life, take it up with God. He knows far better than I do. 

An Open Letter to Religious Sisters Everywhere

"On a day I was feeling furthest from myself, 

she gave me back my sense of worth. 

My golden girl."

My Dear Sister, 

      It's been a while and I should write more often. But I know that you're busy and I'm busy. Time seems to slip through my fingers now-a-days. Besides, even though I love to write, I would prefer to communicate in a different way most of the time. 

     Some days it gets lonely in my office, even if I'm right next to the Chapel. Sometimes I find myself gazing off into my memories and thinking about how often I got to see you. It used to be every day that I would see you on my daily adventures. Of course, some days I would have to resort to being satisfied with a phone call. But even still, at least I got to hear your voice almost every day. Now, I have to make myself pencil in a date to simply call you. It's not even a date to see you, but only to hear your voice. And it's rare that I feel like I have time to call you. I wish I had more time. By the time I get home from school, eat dinner and catch up on work, it's too late to call the convent OR I'm just too tired to carry on a conversation. But when I'm lonely in my office, I sometimes look at the phone and almost pick it up to call you. There are little moments throughout my day that make me think, "Oh I have to tell her." But it's the lonely, speechless, sometimes empty moments in my office throughout the day that send me deep into my memories. And so, thank you for those. 

     Thank you for all the times you willing (or unwilling) opened your arms and embraced me. Thank you for understanding my cuddly nature and my need for hugs all the time. Thank you for understanding that I love to hold hands with you and walk arm in arm for any distance with you. Thank you for every second of every minute of every moment that you walked with me like that. Because you gentle hands reminded me to be more gentle with others and with myself. 

     Thank you for all the times you answered a late phone call or a late knock at the door. Thank you for the times when I would pop into the office and you would simple drop whatever you were doing to talk to me. Thank you for knowing that even though I didn't tell you those times were urgent, that they were urgent matters of the heart that needed to be dealt with at that very moment. Thank you for knowing that when I called and asked to chat, it was usually better if I came over in person because I probably needed a hug. Thank you for all the advice you gave me and all the times you listened to me painstakingly try to put into words how I was feeling. Because you showed me that no matter what, I should always give people the time they need; I am Jesus' messenger in any moment and His message is love. 

      Thank you for all the times you let me cry. Thank you for handing me the tissues when I had a few tears escaping from my eyes (how dare they!). How I wish you were here now; I could use a few right now. Thank you also for offering up your sleeves willingly (or unwillingly) to the times when tissues just weren't enough and I needed to let my mascara rub off on something softer. Thank you, God, for making habits a dark color. Thank you for the times when you didn't judge me for snot uncontrollably running down my nose and into whatever scarf I was wearing. Thank you for holding me, with your strong but gentle arms, to let me know that I could cry as long as I needed to over whatever I needed to. Thank you for sharing my tears of joy and of pain. Nothing means more to me than when you cry, too. You let me know you're human, too. Thank you, because you showed me that from the very beginning, from birth, tears are a sign of life, not weakness. 

      Thank you for all the times you filled in for mom. Thank you for willingly (or unwillingly) getting close enough to catch my sickness, just to feel my head for a temperature. Thank you for sacrificing the back of your hand to what I'm sure feels like a small flame of a temperature. Thank you for sending me home from school and telling me that I need to go to bed and stop pushing myself. Thank you for letting me rest in your office. Thank you, because without you, I would have kept going and going and going. 

      Thank you for all the times you tassled my curly hair or high fived me. Thank you for the moments of laughter and joy. Thank you for laughing so hard with me that both of us had tears in our eyes. Thank you for understanding that despite the fact that I am mature for my age, I still need to be a kid sometimes. Thank you for being a kid with me. Thank you, also, for not judging me for my really, loud, obnoxious laughter that more times than not leads to snorting and squeals. Thank you for running through sprinklers with me, sharing stories about all the times you got pulled over, sharing the biggest joke or even letting me give you a tattoo - a temporary one, of course. Thank you for these moments because I might have forgotten how to laugh and to stop taking myself so seriously. 

      Thank you for the moments when you unleashed my creative side. Thank you for the moments when you asked me to write something from the heart, create an exciting creature from recycled materials, a piece of artwork, a retreat, a reflection, anything. Thank you for unleashing the creative juices in anyway possible and helping me believe that I can stand in front of a crowd and give a motivational speech. Thank you for letting me be me by not being me on any stage. Thank you for being my silent cheerleader in the back of the auditorium. Because not only did you teach me to never stop creating, but you also showed me how much a simple "Great Job" can mean. 

      Thank you for all the times you taught me something new - which really was every day. I can't list all the things you taught me because my brain has expanded so much and some of what you taught me has been tucked in the deep recesses of my mind. But thank you for never giving up on me when I didn't do so well on a test. Thank you for cheering me on with a smile each time I got something right. Thank you for watching me applicate what I learned to modern things. Thank you for always watching the light bulb go off. Because not only did you teach me to never stop learning and to enjoy learning, but you also showed me how to be the best teacher to my own students. 

      And finally, thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for being the face of Jesus for me every day. Thank you for loving me despite being upset with me for one thing or another. Thank you for saying, "I love you" back when I embarrass you by screaming at you from some place on campus or at work. Thank you for saying it back when I tell you, even though students probably shouldn't tell their teachers how much they love them. Thank you for knowing that I don't just say it but that I mean it. And thank you for finally believing me; I do love you so much. And thank you for helping me believe that I can be loved, too. Because to be honest, when you're a sister or you want to be a sister, it's harder to say it and it's harder to believe it. At least that's what I think. "I love you" can never be said enough. So, I love you. 

       My dear sister, I write this today because I haven't taken enough time to write it until now. I write it publicly because I think everyone deserves to know how awesome you and how wonderful. I think everyone deserves to know what you did for me. I write it because I know there are so many people out there that you've touched in some way who haven't been able to say the things I have. These words are their words, too. And I say because I don't think you know how wonderful and awesome you are. You are. You have changed my life and the life of so many people. Thank you. 

Sincerely, 

Me

It All Comes Down to the Hart of the Matter

"I have struggled with this call to vocation all my life.

I can understand why people have doubts, because who understands God?

I don't."

- Mother Dolores Hart

    We've all seen those famous movie stars become nuns: Whoopi Goldberg as Sister Mary Clarence in Sister Act, Rosalind Russell as Mother Superior in The Trouble With Angels, Audrey Hepburn as Sister Luke in The Nun's Story and of course, my favorite, Julie Andrews as Maria in the Sound of Music. Famous women in Hollywood taking on roles of Sisters and Nuns for Hollywood purposes. While no one can really be sure why, Sisters and Nuns tend to show up in random comedy movies and documentaries. I could think of a number of reasons why Hollywood chooses to produce movies and films about Sisters and Nuns but quite honestly I think the real reason is this: Unless you are a Sister, the movie viewer, no matter how Catholic he or she is, has no idea what being a religious really is like. I can admit myself, that as much as I know about the Sisters and their lifestyle, there is no knowing for sure what the religious life is all about until one finally joins a community. And so, because we as lay people have no idea, we try to portray what we think or how we assume convent or monastery life is lived. Sometimes it is a close depiction, other times it's pretty far off. Regardless, perhaps writing screenplays about Sisters and Nuns and other religious is Hollywood's attempt to give knowledge of the unknown. Last night, I had the most awesome opportunity to listen to and meet Mother Dolores Hart. Unlike Whoopie, Rosalind, Audrey and Julie, Mother Dolores, after acting as St. Clare (a religious nun) in a film, actually took a further step and entered a community of Benedictines in Connecticut. She took her role as a nun to a whole new level.

    We were supposed to meet at Our Mother of Consolation Parish in Chestnut Hill. I had no idea where that was or how I was going to get there. I didn't know the area well, and was surprised when my GPS told me to take the turnpike instead of 95. Although, after traveling back and forth to Philly every day this week on 95, I was grateful for the change in commute. My GPS sweetly mentioned : destination on right. I was having trouble believe it, but lo and behold, as I turned the corner, there in the distance was a group of lovely ladies dressed in blue. I laughed to myself: I know I'm in the right place when I see the nuns. I parked my car, met Sister Kim in the parking lot and then walked in. All hopes of remaining unnoticed were shattered when immediately we were greeted with "Sister, your Sisters are up front." That was no understatement...there they were in the front rows. 

     The next few moments were spent catching up with each other as it had been such a long time since I had seen the Motherhouse Sisters. We laughed and shared stories, until someone mentioned that Mother Dolores was not on IHM time. What exactly is IHM time, because as far as I knew, according to my internal IHM clock, Mother Dolores was right on time. Before I could comprehend what was happening before me, this little, tiny, maybe five foot tall nun dressed in a black and white habit made her way across the altar. How precious! was all I could say. She looked straight out of a fairy tale!

     The first thing she mentioned was that she had been wondering what to actually speak about that night. How she started telling us though really spoke to my heart, especially with what happened right after. She said, "Most of you are probably wondering why. Why did I, a famous Hollywood actress, decide to give up everything for the cloister life? Why would I become a nun?" She left a few moments for the audience to think, to wonder, to imagine. For the most part, it was quiet. However, as I was sitting with a fairly large group of lovely IHM ladies in blue, I heard a mumble amongst them that said, Oh I know why. It's the same reason for all of us. I'm not quite sure who said it, but I had to laugh. Suddenly I realized, I knew, too. No, none of us sitting there were once famous, we didn't have Hollywood at our every beck and call, but the Sisters among us gave up so much for this life and I am finding myself doing the same as I prepare for the big step that will happen sooner or later. While we might not have the same exact story as Mother Dolores, we all knew why she was sitting there before us, not as a movie star, but as a religious nun. The rest of the audience might not have known, but we, we knew. 

      As I was sitting there, listening to Mother Dolores speak, I couldn't help but wish my friends were there with me. I had invited them but it was too late notice for them. I was bummed because I knew they would love her story as much as I did. I texted them when I got home telling them how much I had wished they had been there and in googling some more of Mother's story, I found out she was speaking at another close-by Parish. So, I called the girlies up and the next night I found myself and three of my good friends sitting in a pew listening to Mother Dolores, me for the second time and them for the first.

     She didn't start her talk out the same way, but she did reiterate what she had began to say the night before. This time, instead of stating that most people wonder why on earth she would do such a thing, she asked if everyone knew what it felt like to be in love. We were surrounded by married couples and religious sisters and priests and some young people, too. More or less, except for those youngins, nodded, spoke amongst themselves and agreed with Mother. She then said that for her, when she went to Regina Laudis Monastery, she felt the same fire of love for this lifestyle just as she would if she had fallen in love with a man. Many people were in awe but just as the night before, the sisters were all shaking their heads, nodding in agreement; they knew, they knew exactly the fire she was speaking about. 

     I smiled as my friends engulfed this notion. For me, ever since I really started openly discerning, I have tried subtly to show people how awesome and normal sisters are compared to regular everyday people. Whether I had invited them to a pick-up softball game, to the movies, or just to dinner, my friends slowly got to understand that these sisters I was so fascinated with were just regular people with an extraordinary calling. I had invited my friends last night to see Mother Dolores not only because I knew they would enjoy the spirituality aspect, but also because I wanted them to hear and understand another Sister's story. I believe that our stories are so important, and even Mother Dolores spoke about that. She said that our roots define us, that we should be proud of where we come from, because it is that that God starts planting the seeds for our future. I had invited my friends so that they, too, could understand what it was about this fire that ignites the soul and invites it to live for Jesus and only for Him. 

    As her talk went on, I found myself reflecting on my own firey soul. This week I have been blessed to teach pre-8th graders with some of my IHM Sisters down at St. Joe's Prep. One of the things we really focused on in all our classes was the importance of St. Ignatius' words "Go forth and set the world on fire." How awesome that Mother spoke about the fire. We cannot set the world on fire, if we ourselves are not on fire with the love of God. So often, that's how I feel I truly live out my vocation, that is, my mission in life to love. I see myself as a literal fire. At some moments in my life, I am simply a small fire, setting aflame the kindling in the fire pit. But at other times, I am a loud, roaring fire setting aflame logs and many other things. I recalled the first time I started recognizing the fire in my soul, the fire that whispered with ever crackle, "love Me, devote your life to Me, give Me your life." I found myself knowing exactly what Mother was speaking about. I knew why she had entered the religious life, because I, too, am doing the same for the same reason: we had each fallen in love with something so different, so out of this world, that there is nothing else we can do except accept His proposal.

     After the talk, I introduced myself to some IHM Sisters that were casually idling by Mother Dolores. I told them that I attend their University and felt that I should say hello, introduce myself, get know where they were from and who they were. While this conversation was taking place, some of my Nazareth Sisters came behind me to give me kisses on the cheek before they headed out the door. Quickly I introduced the Sisters to each other explaining how I seemingly know all the nuns everywhere. We all laughed and then quickly got on our ways. 

     As I drove home, my three good friends in tow, we chatted about Mother and all she had to say. We were stopped at one of the many, many, many street lights on Street Road, when Sara who was riding shotgun happened to notice nuns in the car next to us. She screamed, "NUNS! Our NUNS!" Frantically, the girls all started waving and shouting but the Sisters, all four of them, kept their eyes ahead. I explained the whole custody of the eyes ordeal to the girlies and we had a good laugh. I knew, however, we were headed in the same direction and would probably be trailing each other all the way up the street. So, the girlies kept up their devotion to getting the sisters' attention. Finally, they did. Of course, I said to them after the fact that we were noticed, "Oh great, now they will totally be judging my driving." I was right, the sisters had followed us all the way home. At one point, Sister who was driving the car, pulled into the lane next to me. All of the sisters now were so excited to see us and were waving just as frantically as we were. Suddenly, Sister started inching forward. Sara then jokingly said, "I think she just challenged you to a drag race." We laughed, of course, because our drag race consisted of us doing 35 mph down the side streets of Philadelphia, trying NOT to get in an accident.

     And so, our nights listening to and meeting Mother Dolores Hart were eventful (as anything is in my life) and truly, she brought me back into my own reflective spirit. What I said in the beginning, is true. Mother Dolores spoke at length about the mystery of falling in love with Jesus and the religious life. While many of the lay people in the audiences merely shook their heads respectively, the sisters in the audiences knew exactly what she was talking about. Today, we find so often we try and try and try to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes men and women enter this religious life, but unless one has truly experienced it him or herself, you don't know, you simply can't. But Mother put it so kindly, just as how many of us wonder how on earth you fell in love with your husband or wife, many question the religious. But just as you did marry that questionable husband or wife, we entered religious life. There is just something about it that captures our souls forever and we fall in love. And so, truly what Mother taught us all or reiterated in us, is that finding your vocation, finding out your true calling, all comes down to the Hart of the matter. 

They Call Me Becky...

"What's in a name, if by any other name, a rose still smells as sweet." - Shakespeare

      Even though I always introduce myself to new people with my full name, Rebecca, I am always never referred to as a Rebecca. When I was younger the only people who would use my full name were my parents...when I was in trouble. I would hear, "REBECCA LYNN!!!!!!!!!!!!" roar from wherever my parents were. I assume for a little while my grandparents all referred to me as Rebecca, but mostly everyone called me Becca. That was, until, I met the nuns. 

      Growing up, every Christmas Eve we went to Mass at the convent. After Mass was always a treat of cookies and milk or hot cocoa. Aside from my Dad promising the sisters he was going to send me to them when I turned 16 (which he didn't), the only other thing I vividly remember is being called "Becky" by the sisters. No one ever, ever, EVER referred to me as Becky except for them. I guess to others I just didn't appear to be a Becky.

      Fast forward quite a few years to when I was 12 and my littlest sister was born. While our middle sister referred to me as CaCa, short for BecCA, little Lizzie has never called me anything but Becky. We had stopped visiting the convent for Christmas eve Mass by this point and so now, the only person to call me Becky was my little sis. 

      Fast forward once more to my Sophomore year of high school. Since our class was so small (a little less than 125 girls), there were only two Rebeccas. One of us went by Becca, me, and the other, by Becky. One afternoon I emailed my Biology teacher a question about homework and signed it, Rebecca. The next day in class, she addressed the question as being sent in by "Becky". She was searching the room for, "Becky" and even asked where "Becky" was. I looked right at her and said, "She's in the other class." She laughed and said told me I was a good joke-teller. Only then did it occur to me that she was talking about me. Fail. So in my high school years, the sisters and I got extremely close, as you can imagine, and while some who  I told to call me Becca, many of the sisters still always say, "Hi, Becky." 

       Today, once again in Biology class, my teacher called on me and called me, "Becky." While everyone else in the room exchanged questioning looks, I answered her without thinking twice. She's not the only sister here at school who refers to me as Becky. Whether I've had them in class, or have shared a pew or even worked for them as portress, I've been called Becky so many times before. I have finally deducted that it must be a nun thing. 

        I find it interesting how the sisters, without a doubt, have consistently called me Becky, even sisters in various, different communities. Many of my friends, who aren't used to calling me Becky always give me a questioning look that I just shrug off. I kind of really like being called Becky, especially if it's only by the sisters. It's just a cute, little connection, that is unique to only us. No one else can call me Becky and no one else understands how much I love it. Maybe one day, when it comes time to take my religious name, I'll tell them how much I loved it!

Sister Mary Facebook (Skype, Twitter, Blog, Text, YouTube)

JMJ

     It's not unusual for me to make a stop at one of my favorite convents while I am home from school. Often, all it takes is a quick text, email, Skype call or Facebook message to my sisters and our plans are set for Mass and Brunch. This time, however, the unusual took place. Not only was in snowing when I woke up this morning (seriously, it's October and 34 degrees outside), but my plans were for Mass and a Vocation/Formation Technology meeting. Now, occasionally, I've been mistaken for and sometimes referred to as Sister, but I promise you, I am still only in the early stages of Discernment. So why was I sitting in on their meeting?

     Well, I mentioned technology, right? The topic was, "How to reach the young people via technology." And so, we discussed together means of communication via modern technology. So many of the sisters are already on Facebook, so no problem there. And they've been using Skype for conference calls since before I knew what Skype even was. And so, we discussed adding the repertoire Twitter, YouTube, and BLOGGING! How interesting would it be to read the daily lives of the sisters via Facebook statuses, Tweets, YouTube Vlogs and Blogs? Yeah, I'm hooked. It was as they were discussing this, that I thought, hey, it would be pretty interesting to read about a discerner's journey, too. And so, immediately after the meeting, here I am writing my first blog post. 

     Like I said, it's not unusual for me to be texting (in fact, one of the sisters just texted me about movie plans for tonight), facebooking or skyping the sisters. My friends get a kick out of it, but the truth is, these sisters are real people, who really do text me all day long. And I can't enough of their smiley faces.