Sunflowers and Sisters

"Never say goodbye because
saying goodbye means going away
and going away means forgetting."
- J.M. Barrie

One of my favorite pictures with this lovely lady.
Circa. Summer 2011

      I was mid-conversation with a friend when the phone started beeping telling me there was another call waiting for me to answer. When I saw the name, I immediately cut my friend off and said, "I'll call you back. This is important." I could barely contain my excitement when I heard her voice on the other end. "Hi Sister..." Before I knew it, I was jumping in the car and racing to see her at the Mount. 

     It had been months since I'd seen her last. In fact, as part of our hellos, we were trying to figure out how long. "Well, you were in Chicago for vows," she said. But then I responded, "But I saw you for a few minutes when I stopped over in Chicago before going to Minnesota." We laughed and agreed. Yes, the last time we had seen each other was in passing for only a few minutes. It was enough for a hug before I was off and running to the next state. Yes, it had been months, yet, it seemed as if it was only yesterday we had had our last conversation. It was so easy to pick right back up where we left off the months before. 

     Usually, I write an exact recent moment in my life but today, I'm going to write a piece of my past and a piece of my discernment story. After our brief hour together yesterday, I decided that I would (sleep in and) join Sister for Mass before she headed back "home." She mentioned that she would be leaving right after Mass and I told her that spending time with her in Mass was just as good if not better than talking for an hour. She agreed and so, this morning, I found myself in an all too familiar setting. Together we prayed and celebrated Mass; it was beautiful. As I was leaving, she mentioned that we've been close for a very long time. That's when I said, "This September, it will be eight years since we met." Both of us let that sink in for a few seconds and I hugged her again. Even though I know I'll see her again soon enough (perhaps in a few months), it's always hard to say goodbye to the woman that has been one of the most influential people in my life. 

     Sister David was the first Sister I ever had as a teacher. I grew up with the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, so I knew nuns, but I never had one as a teacher. We took semesterly Theology classes so I didn't have Sister David until January but I knew who she was and was secretly in awe of her. I couldn't wait to have her in class. When I finally did get to have her in class, I noticed her all around joy. She was always happy, go-lucky, it seemed and there was something about her that I just wanted to share. I remember studying Old Testament Theology with her, I remember her singing with us, I remember her bouncing around the classroom, super excited for the day. I had her 8th period and I remember trying to think of questions to ask her after class just so I could talk with her (I'm such a nerd, still...) One question I asked her in particular was about what I was doing for Lent. I asked her, "Sister, my boyfriend and I are going to be reading the Bible for Lent. Is there any place we should start?" I think part of her was a bit crushed that I had a boyfriend, but she was happy that we would be reading the Bible. To be honest, I don't remember what she answered. At the end of the year, I hung back after class and asked her to sign my yearbook. I hugged her good-bye for the Summer and left the classroom thinking, next year I must get to know her better. 

      Over the summer between Freshmen and Sophomore years, I broke up with my boyfriend and thought it was really time to focus on what God might be calling me to do with my life. (Long story short, I had been talking with my boyfriend about the possibility of being a sister....yeah....he didn't like that very much). Fast forward to maybe early October of my Sophomore year. I spent the night writing and re-writing a letter to Sister David before I finally conjured up the right words. I begged my best friend the next morning to go with me to her office (she was the disciplinarian, you see) so that I could drop the letter off. Lucky for me, she wasn't in her office. So, I dropped it on her desk and BOLTED out of there. I was praying and hoping that she would read it and NEVER SAY ANYTHING TO ME ABOUT IT EVER. But alas, as I was headed into my French class, there she was, waiting for me. "How about you stop by my office tomorrow after school?" Oh no. She read my letter. NOW she wanted to talk about it? I hesitated but something deep down inside forced me to say okay. Yes, little sophomoric me agreed to chat with Sister about my letter. 

       The next day, I found myself down in her office. It was a Wednesday (because that's the day she did detentions) and a dress-down day. We sat in her office for at least an hour and a half as she addressed every single thing I wrote in my letter. You see, my letter was all about how I felt that I was being called to religious life. I told her that I was scared and nervous about saying anything. I didn't know what it meant, I had not a clue what to do about it. She sat next to me and assured me that it was totally okay to be feeling called to religious life. She told me that Sisters are just as human as every other human being. But the most important thing that she told me was that she would be right next to me the entire journey. She would be praying for and with me. I didn't know how true her words were then. But almost eight years later, she's still journeying with me. 

     The rest of my high school career, Sister David became a mentor. She mentored me in everything from my discernment to making college decisions to even research topics for Senior Research Paper. So many of the Sisters at Nazareth influenced me greatly in my four years there but she was the one who listened to my every nun-related fear. I knew come graduation, it was going to be difficult to say good-bye to her. God, however, had different plans. Because today, years after my graduation, I got to laugh with her as if she was my long lost best friend. 

     Sister David never once ceased writing to me when I was at college. Every so often, I would get a letter in the mailbox from her. She loved to write little cards with little messages to people (I even got one this morning). And I, of course, always loved to receive them. When I was home for break, we somehow always managed to meet up. Often, we would go for a walk around school or even her humble abode, just to catch up with one another. She has a memory like an elephant, by the way; she remembered almost everything I ever wrote to her about when I was at college. Of course, last summer she got transferred...not just to a different convent, or to a different state BUT TO A WHOLE OTHER PART OF THE COUNTRY. Needless to say, I thought the world was ending. How was I going to live without my best friend? 

     But here we are a year later, and I've seen her quite a bit. Every so often, we call on the phone and it's like there hasn't been a month's lapse of time between the last time we spoke and that moment. She still writes to me often...in fact, more often than ever before. I'm always getting cards in the mail from her and I'm always sending something in response. She'll be getting one soon enough from me. Seeing her these past two days, even if it only was for a little bit, was a God moment for me. She has taught me so much in her witness of religious life. She has shown me gentleness and kindness. She has shown me tears and faith and love, incredible love for every person she has ever met. But probably the most important thing she ever taught me from day was is that if I wholly and totally depend on God, He will always take care of me.

      As we were saying good-bye today, I tried to hold back tears. Yeah, I know, I'm a big baby, but she's been journeying with me for the past eight years and it's been a very crazy journey. She's listened to my pains, my fears, my hesitations. She's wiped away countless tears (she always has a tissue in her pocket, just in case) and has been a caring shoulder to cry on. Of course, she's also shared many laughs, smiles and good times with me. I laugh so much with her; she is joy. We laughed as we hugged goodbye one more time. I didn't want her to go, but another thing she has taught me is that one must make their home wherever God sends her. Go with God and nothing will go wrong. She told me to listen to my heart. I called her Grandmother Willow. 

     Sister David, a constant companion, mentor and friend, has stood by me on my crazy journey. We shared so much in the little hour that we had together yesterday, just as if it hadn't been months since our last visit together. She's amazing. I secretly think she might be an angel. And she has been such a key player in my discernment story. One of the last things she said this morning was that no matter where I go, it's between me and God and I can't let anyone else influence that decision. No matter where I go, she will always continue journeying with me as my Sister in prayer. I smiled as I walked away and said, "Self. Do not cry. Your mascara will run and you'll look like a fool." So instead, I smiled and already started looking forward to the next time I'll see this beautiful woman of God. Maybe I'll take a road trip soon. As I thought of all my blessings in simply seeing her and praying with her, I couldn't help but remember that in the Chapel, there right in front of the altar, were sunflowers. 

Say Something

"Those who trust God the most, 

wait the longest. God trusts that we trust Him."

- Becca Original

     Did you ever feel like you've done all the talking in a relationship? Did it ever feel like your significant other or the person you've been dating or even your best friend never says a word? Maybe you've been the extroverted one the entire time? Or maybe you were so bothered by silence? I used to be that person, but in the past few years, I've quieted. I am able to sit in silence for long periods of time and be happy. When I'm with someone, I like to let them do the talking. But sometimes, when I'm with God, I feel like the picture above. I'm waiting, in my piece of paradise, for God to take a seat and talk to me. I'm waiting for Him to say something. 

     Recently, I've been feeling like I've been pretending with God. You know, I haven't been honest. If He asks if I'm happy, I say, "Yes, yes, of course I'm happy." But He simply nods His head and doesn't say anything. It's as if He's saying, "Okay, if you say so. But something tells me you're not." Saturday, I decided to be honest with God at Mass. I told Him how anxious I've been waiting to hear if I have a job for the Fall or not. I told Him how I just didn't know where to go from hear, that I felt stuck in some transition that isn't going right. I told Him that I feel alone; that His presence hasn't been made known to me in a while. I was begging Him to say something to me, because recently, I feel like He's just been silent. 

     Every Saturday after the daily Mass at my Parish, we pray the Novena to the Miraculous Medal. Because I've been going to daily Saturday Mass for so long, I've long had those prayers memorized. So, while we knelt down to say the prayers as a congregation, I bowed my head. Suddenly, for no reason that I can actually explain, I started crying. And it wasn't just baby tears sliding down my cheeks, I was close to full out sobbing. I couldn't explain it then and I can't explain it now. I just started crying. When we finished praying the Novena, I tried to book it out of the Chapel as fast as I could. My crying must have been my show of complete vulnerability to God, begging Him to listen to my cry. 

     Saturday went on as normal. My family went to a family party and I hit the hay early that night; I was exhausted. But before I fell asleep, I started leafing through a book by Christopher West concerning Theology of the Body and Song of Songs in the Bible. Two of my favorite things. I didn't get very far before I fell asleep. Yesterday, Sunday, I got up early and went to 7:30 Mass with my family. When I got home, I laid down because I had a wicked headache. When I woke up, however, the Christopher West book was peaking out from under my pillow. Apparently the night before, I feel asleep reading it and never moved it from my bed. So, I started leafing through it again and decided that it would be a great book to give to Joe, who I was seeing later that day. I through the book in my bag and sat back on my bed. Then, the teacher in me came out and thought that in order for him to understand the book, he needs to do the prerequisite reading of Song of Songs. So, I pulled out my Bible. as I was adding it to the bag of books, I decided that maybe I should revisit my favorite book of the Bible myself before making someone else do it. So, I sat there and opened to the book Song of Songs. 

      I was thinking, as I was reading, once again, how beautiful this particular book of the Bible is. I could go on and on about Theology of the Body and how beautiful John Paul II's teachings are, but that's not the point today. I was reading and praying and hoping that God would send a message to me through the readings of Song of Songs. The only thing that had stood out was that somewhere along the line of me reading my Bible, I had highlighted a phrase that reoccurs three times: "Do not arouse, do not stir up love before it's own time." I didn't realize until that moment that the phrase is repeated three times. When I finished reading the book, however, I didn't feel anything strongly in the Bible and felt disappointed. It was a nice read, I guess, revisiting the love story in the Bible, but that's not what I felt I needed. 

      So, I flipped to Hosea, another favorite in the Bible. I was honestly just browsing when I came to a particular indented verse. This verse, Hosea 3:2, hit me like a ton of bricks and an eighteen wheeler. It reads, "Many days you will wait for me; you will not play the harlot or belong to any man. I in turn will wait for you." Boom. Hello. Instant tears. What on earth was going on with me?! I sat there for a few minutes allowing the verse to hit me a hundred times more before I began to mentally reflect. 

     I had just read Song of Songs, the love letter in the Bible. Scripture scholars will tell you that SOS falls right in the middle of the Bible between Genesis and Revelation. It is literally written as a love letter between a bride and a groom about how beautiful the other is. It's absolutely lovely and will make any hopeless romantic's heart throb. However, the letter is also a love letter between God of heaven and the people of earth. I always read it as a true love letter from God to me personally. Hmmm...imagine, God is absolutely in love with me, head over heels in love with me. He thinks I am absolutely beautiful and gorgeous and He loves me. When I read it this time, however, I didn't read it necessarily that way. 

     Hosea is the story of the man who loves his wife so much that despite the fact that she becomes a harlot and has multiple relationships with other men, he welcomes her back. He loves her so much that he will adore her and love her and forgive her. He takes the honeymoon phase of Song of Songs and puts true marriage into action years later into his marriage with the woman. He loves her despite her faults. That's how I read Hosea and Song of Songs. 

      Anyone who knows me knows that I have been seemingly waiting for years to finally enter religious life. I feel like I am always playing the waiting game with God. Not yet, not yet, not yet. Yet, I know that's what He wants of me. And at times, I get anxious and feel like giving up. Do I really have to wait this long? I'm tired of waiting. BUT, Hosea said, "many days you will wait for me...." Song of Songs said, "do not arouse, do not stir up love before it's own time." Yes, I guess I must continue waiting for the Lord to say the word. He assured me, however, through Song of Songs, that He truly does love me. He also assured me that as much as I wait for Him, He will also wait for me. He loves me and no matter what I may do wrong, He will always forgive me. He will always love me. 

     And so, I resolved to understand that God is saying something. He is saying, wait, wait, wait. I may roll my eyes and ask for more and swear that He is not saying anything at all, but He is gently whispering for me to wait. Doesn't mean I like it, and He knows that (we can be honest with each other that way, it's nice), but I must wait. Of course, I'm still sitting hear anxious because I hate waiting. I want to know my future, I want to know when I must make a decision, when I must finally say YES GOD. But right now, as much as I don't like it, I am saying Yes God, to waiting for the right time and place. I must not arouse or stir up love before it's own time. I'm still in a period of "Okay God....say something please to keep me going" so prayers are always accepted. Especially these days ahead. Thank you.

Time Is Love - Loving and Being Loved

"Time is love, gotta run, love to hang longer

but I got someone who waits, waits for me and right now

she's where I need be. Time is love."

- "Time Is Love", Josh Turner

     I apologize in advance for getting this song stuck in your head and heart. Truth is, I've probably quoted it a million times in multiple blogs. It's one of my favorites, can you tell? It just honestly speaks volumes to me. I love the feeling I get when listening to it: it reminds me of a perfect summer with my little sisters. I am instantly reminded of roadtrips to the beach with my sisters in the back seats, breaking rules and swimming in waterfalls, singing at the top of my lungs in harmony with my sister while driving to the middle of no where and waving at unsuspecting passersby while in traffic, and of course, I'm reminded of those early morning wawa coffee dates with the little one or midnight McDonalds run where we shared a box of chicken nuggets and a fruit smoothie (we are soooooo healthy, let me tell you.) I miss those moments of my summer, and yet they are forever molded in my mind. This song will always be connected with those joyous moments of time spent loving with my sisters. However, there's so much more to this song for me. 

     Last night was my first night back at work since last Tuesday because I've been sick. I had a few good days when I was at home, but I came back to school sick, sick, sick. I won't give you too many details, but it was one of my worst nightmares come true: no voice. I still have a groggy little froggy voice as little Lizzie calls it, but I'm doing much better. I am taking my time getting better though, so I don't relapse ;)! However, like I said, I went back to working portress last night. Usually when I go, it's like two ships passing in the night because as I am coming, she is running to ring the bell for prayers. But yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised by Sister Honora, who returned to the office after ringing the bell. Instead of running off to prayers, she sat in the "guest seat" in the portress office and chatted with me for almost a half hour. When she left she said, "I made this my prayer today. We have to make time to take time with those we love." I thanked her for the reminder that time needs to be taken. Then instantly, Josh Turner was stuck in my head. 

     As you could easily tell, I'm a writer. That's a shocker, I know! So, I wrote Sister Honora a letter. But for me, that wasn't enough. I needed to spread the word, because what she said was so true. And so, I ended up here. The truth is, and I told her this, I am always, always, always taking time to remind myself to take time for others. I have always been an advocate for giving small smiles, saying hellos and carrying on conversations with those I may not know very well, or being aware of the small things in a person's life. Yet, sometimes, I forget how much time is love for those closest to me. For those I love. I guess I assume they know how much I love them, and yet, I know I have to tell them, I have to show them, I need to give them time. And there are so many that I love that I don't tell enough. I'm going to change that. Because time is love and I need to give them more of my time. 

     This wasn't the only thing I realized though when she visited with me. After I really thought about it, she said we have to make time for those we love. Yes, I am reminded that I have to give more time to those I love BUT also, I need to make time to be loved. This week, while I was sick, I couldn't do much loving. I spent a lot of time in bed and sleeping. I wasn't really a happy camper, so there were no random smiles, no random conversations, no time for love. And yet, my heart wasn't empty. People, I realized were making time for me, to love me. I got a few phone calls checking up on me, notes from my "Mom" at school on my door, apples from my favorite Freshmen, and of course, conversations with some of my favorite Motherhouse Sisters. My visit with Sister Honora (and all the extra lovin' I got this week) was God's double reminder to tell those I love how much I love them AND to be open to accepting love. God, as He always does, took time to love, because right then, I was where He needed to be! Thanks, God. You're perfect! I'm so blessed to be loved by You and all the beautiful people you put in my life.