What Color Is Red?

"I can't remember my exact reactions. I know they were varied - 

a mixture of surprise, disappointment, awe over horror, 

but also contentment - resignation and even joy."

- Sister Mary Avellino, IHM

     "What color is red?" or in Spanish, "Que color es rojo?" was a phrase that essentially summed up our trip to Peru. Whether we were red with embarrassment, red with laughter, or red with sunburn, our white, American faces were almost always red and Sister Marie never let us forget. She would always ask sarcastically, "What color is red?" and we would all laugh. Even driving to the airport on Thursday night we were still repeating the phrase over and over with every new adventure in the car. However, the final time we asked the question, it was serious. What color is red? We all said together and I answered, "Red is the color of our eyes and cheeks after we have been crying so hard and so long." And that was the truth. 

     After finally checking in for our flight and checking our bag, we joined the sisters for some last Quatro Day (that is, 4D ice cream...the best) in the airport before heading into security. Eight of us sat around one tiny, little, round table and laughed our last laughs together and took our last pictures. My heart was melancholy and yet, rejoicing in the goodness of God. Finally, it was time to go through security ... and time to say our final goodbyes to the sisters at the gate. One by one we each hugged each other and my eyes, the eyes that never, ever cry in public, began to water. There was no escaping it, no avoiding it, not forgetting to cry. No, with each hug, my face got wetter and wetter. And there was no embarrassment. I just cried, because it was like a band-aid: my heart had been operated on, fixed and made for the better. The sisters put band-aid on to help it heal and now, I was able to go home with a brand new and transformed heart. But, I couldn't leave the band-aid on. So, as my big Sisters, the ripped it off and smiled and as they saw how my heart had grown. Gee wiz. Thanks, that hurt. But I knew, I had been changed for the better. And the saying goodbye was just the ripping off of a bandaid. It stung for a while, but now, I can smile and say, I'm glad they changed me.

    Our last week in Peru was a hard one. I realized this while on the bus Monday morning: Grief is so hard when you have to live for the moment even though it is inevitable that something painful will happen soon. For me it was the hardship of having to walk into my classrooms with a HUGE smile on my face despite the fact that I knew in a few days I would be leaving and my heart was already so sad. But, I have had practice hiding my feelings, so for two days, I went in and out of the classrooms smiling and loving each moment. At night, or on the bus when I was able to really think and reflect, I would feel the inevitable pain of knowing I had to leave soon. I am, as I view myself, a person who lives in the moment and so, with each and every moment I was given, I lived it up. 

     During the last two days, all of our students were gradually saying goodbye. Out of the four of us, I was the only one in the secondary grades, that is high school level, as per my major! While it was hard for the others to leave, I am sure, their students were not as upset as mine...so it seemed. For little kids, they are sad for the moment, and then they keep going on with life. While yes they miss those they have met, their comprehension of what would be happening in a few days was little. For my students, they knew what was happening and their hearts were pained by the experience. Each grade had planned some sort of goodbye for me, whether it was a giant card, a song, a speech or a party, each said goodbye in their own way...making it easier and harder for all of us. They had given me the opportunity to have closure and yet, made those last moments more unforgettable than all the rest. 

     Each of the little speeches told me how important I had become in their lives. Some had even gone as far as to say that I was not just a mentor or a teacher for them but a friend. I was almost in tears every time. Some were even wise enough to say that goodbyes hurt more when you do not know when the next time is that you will see each other and isn't that the truth. When it was finally my turn to thank them, from the bottom of my heart I told them that there was no way I could eve forget those days I spent at CSA in Callou. I told them how much they had changed my life by their simply living each day to the full with me both in the classroom and out. I told them how blessed I was to have had the experience of having students and friends. But the most important thing I told them, for me and for them, was that they had become more than students and more than friends; they had become my little sisters.

     Thursday, the day we were leaving, was of course, the hardest. It was the feast of San Antonio, the patron of their school. So, of course, they had an assembly, and a special day. The day before they had adoration all day which I was so blessed to spend some time at. The assembly was fantastic but what was even better was the free time (or not so free time....pretty sure my girls were all skipping class) we had afterward to simply say our goodbyes. While I absolutely loved every moment in the classroom, I loved being able to just hang out with the chicas. We took tons of pictures, had lots of laughs and told even more stories. In fact, we even found a name for ourselves: the Quiet Llama Chicas. Yeah, we are that cute. We spent time just sitting on the floor of the classroom, eating causa and loving life. I wouldn't have spent my last moments with them any other way. Saying goodbye was so hard. 

      We found ourselves back at EIC soon enough and eating on last lunch with the sisters in our house. After lunch, the girls went upstairs to finish packing, but I had some other things to do first. First of all, I had to meet Cesar, the infamous fourth grader at the school and second, I had to go visit Sister Eileen. On my first day in EIC I found myself in her office, so it was only right to go there on my last day. I had wanted to simply give her the "nun mail" from CSA and have a little chat, but God had something else in store. Yes, in fact, He blessed me with one of the most beautiful conversations I have ever had. Sister Eileen, I then understood, had read me like an open book. Amid our tears, she told me how grateful she was for our being there in their convent, the new life we brought to them and all about the ups and downs of religious life. I never cry openly in front of people unless I have known them for a very extensive amount of time, yet there I was bawling my eyes out with this woman of God who so honestly loves Jesus and the work He has asked of her. I was in awe of her, from the very moment I met her (she drove a mean stick shift), at that moment and even now as I think about it. It was certainly a moment in my life I could never, ever forget. And if she ever gets around to reading this, I hope she knows how much I appreciate the color red in our eyes and on our cheeks! 

     I did meet Cesar after that and then quickly headed off to finish some last minute things, like packing and writing. Before we knew it, we were all smushed in a car, just the way we arrived, headed to the airport where we then checked in and had our ice cream and tears. As I sat on the airplane, I looked out my window honestly and cried. I cried because I knew in my heart I had been so blessed. I had been blessed with so many angels and like my girls had said so truthfully, the hardest part about all of these goodbyes was not knowing when I will ever see them again. Leaving everyone was so hard, but I know that because I knew them, I had been changed for good. I can't thank God enough and I can't wait to go back again! Here's to the tears and the laughter that will once again ensue when American me steps foot on Peruvian soil! 

Adios y Via Con Dios

"Senor, me has mirado a los ojos,

sonriendo has dicho mi nombre,

el la arena he dejado mi barca,

junto a ti, buscare otro mars."

- Cesareo Gabarain, "Pescador de Hombres"

     Typically, when a college student has the "retired dean" as her teacher, she would be nervous and perhaps very wary on taking the class. Me, however? I was ecstatic. While Sister Elaine and I go as far back as my Freshmen year as "Tuesday Pew Buddies," our relationship was merely that. The only interaction that entailed was a secret handshake at the sign of peace that varied weekly. She was the academic dean of the undergraduate students. So, if you saw her, you were probably in trouble. But last semester, she had found herself out from her office and back in the classroom. Poor girl had to deal with me and five of my friends as her only students in her Ancient and Medieval Literature. As quickly as she went from dean to teacher, she went from teacher to mentor. Sister Elaine, in a few short weeks, became well....like a sister to me. 

     I remember it clear as day: yet another MyIU email sent out to cloud every IU student's inbox. Usually, I would read the subject box and if it didn't apply to me, I'd delete it. But this one was different. I opened it and read, realizing it was the trip I so badly wanted to go on: Peru IHM Mission Experience. And who was running to show but Sister Elaine. So, I expressed my desire to go to her but so much was on my plate that I didn't even get to think of what I was going to write for my application when I realized it was past the due date. That's when Sister pulled me aside and asked where my application was. Taking my chances, I asked for an infamous extension and it was granted. I emailed her my application over Thanksgiving and with much enthusiasm, she replied to tell me to start saving now. No one else had heard back. I thought I was dreaming. I said nothing to anyone about anything. It couldn't be true. There was no way I had been chosen as one of the four students to travel to Peru. A few days later, the official email went out and I found myself beginning a new journey. 

     Tonight, I sit here after having just gone to the movies (I'm a little reckless, I know!) and am thinking how blessed I am. Of course, I'm typing away hastily trying to shove the anxiety back down into my stomach. Writing distracts me. That's a secret you should all know by now. It's also what I do best! I still can't quite grasp the fact that tomorrow, I will be leaving my country for another. Not for vacation, not for tourism, but to maybe make a difference. I won't be staying for a week, or ten days, but a month. I won't be living in a hotel, a condo but a convent. I'll be wearing one of four pairs of pants, or maybe one of two pairs of shorts and one of the seven t-shirts I packed. I hope it doesn't rain because the one jacket I'm bringing, isn't water proof. Oh, and I know maybe a few phrases in Spanish. Good thing I'll be teaching English! This may be one of the most spontaneous and nerve-wrecking things I have ever done but it's a beginning to a future I have always desired. 

     I live for those spur of the moment moments where there is little planning and I can fit all I need for this spontaneity in one bag. Well, I have two this time, but that's okay. I desire that simplicity of a world traveling missionary. I want nothing more to travel the world lending my heart and hands to those in need. And here I am, one year after my first international trip to Jamaica, the night before I leave for Peru. I am excited and nervous and anxious all in one, as any of you could imagine. I don't know a soul down in Peru, I don't know much about anything for this trip. All I know, is that I am exactly where God wants me at this moment in time. I know that God is going to take care of me no matter what and I know that this is all part of His most beautiful plan for my life. 

      As I travel tomorrow, I'll be simple. A pair of shoes, jeans, a shirt and a sweater. I'll be wearing an eight dollar watch, a simple silver band on my left ring finger, and my curly hair will most likely be wild and crazy; there's no taming it. I'll be wearing a smile and carrying in my heart all who I leave behind. But most importantly, my sisters and my parents. While this is something I have always desired, this will be a true test and taste of what the rest of my life will be like. Can my parents and sisters let me go? Can they stand not being able to talk to me? Will they be okay? ..... Will I be okay being so far away and so out of touch? People have told me I am fearless. I have no fear of people or what people could do. I seemingly am not afraid to reach out and touch a stranger, or do something so crazy (like leave for a month). But the truth is, I have one fear in this life long mission of mine: can my heart stand being so far away from those I love?

      So to all of you, who are excited and worried and just as anxious as I am for my mission trip, please know that I love you. I love you so much, that the very thought of being so far away from you all, fills my heart with some sort of anguish. But in saying that, I carry you all with me in my heart. I can sleep tonight with no worries because all of you are praying for me, more than I think I can even fathom. I will let my excitement run my dreams tonight. I'm not quite sure what kind of technology I will be blessed with down in Peru. If I could, I'd go without it but I know my parents and many of you will be worrying. So, look for a message here and there from the good ole Peru. I can't thank you enough, especially all my church ladies (and gents) who gave me my final blessing this morning at Mass, for all the prayers and support not only for now and this little journey of mine, but throughout my entire discernment journey. I am so blessed to have such beautiful people in my life. Of course, I kind of owe this all to my dear monjita, Sister Elaine. Thanks, girl. Don't worry, I'll give you EVERY DETAIL about this journey! And so, Adios y via con dios, mis amors. I can't wait to meet and love so many new monjitas and ninos. Te amo!

Quit Playin' Games With My Heart - A Reflection on Decision-Making

"Trust your instincts and make judgments on what your heart tells you.

The heart will not betray you."

- "Fall of Kings," David Gemmell

"Waiting hurts. Forgetting hurts. But not knowing

which decision to take can sometimes be the most painful."

- "Mi Vida," Jose N. Harris

What's black and blue and white all over? A girl tryna' make a decision.

      It's one of the most common questions I get when people bring up my discernment. At first, it was so hard to help people understand that my decision was more than a decision to be a nun. Of course, that was especially so when I would answer questions like: what can you do as a nun? with: well, almost anything. I guess that comes from my teacher attitude; I'll do anything to get my students thinking. But anyway, I have seen the growth in my Parish with their understanding of what my vocation is. The questions have grown from: do you pray all day? and can you wear a bathing suit? to: what will your ministry be? and how long is your formation? Of course, most recently, since I just finished out my Junior Year of college, the main question on everyone's mind is: what community will you enter? And trust me, this question is not just on the minds of my Parish Family but also of the minds of many of my sisters. 

     A long time ago, long before I was born, so many young women were entering religious communities. I have heard stories from so many sisters about why they entered specific communities but most of them all say that they entered the community that taught them or with whom they had the most contact. A few sisters, however, told me that they entered communities that best fit their ministerial desires such as healthcare or teaching or working with the poor. Right along with these women were so many other women realizing a call to serve God's people and convents and communities were flourishing with new vocations on the daily. 

    Today, not so much. I've often gotten the question about whether or not the communities "fight over me" and while I'd love to say that, "yeah, they all just can't get enough of me," that's not true. Between the time of the flourishing of vocations and now, there was a time where it may have seemed a little competitive between communities each buying for a girl's vocation because their numbers were diminishing. But, I thankfully, have escaped that era. I have been so blessed to be able to discern with multiple communities with only a few "competitive statements." 

     But here's the thing: there's a still a decision that needs to be made. At the end of the day, I can't enter all the communities I have discerned with; there's just no way. That notion used to give me a ton of anxiety. I would spend hours and hours in prayer asking God how I was going to let one community know I chose the other one. How was I going to say good-bye to the sisters I knew and loved. The funny thing was: I hadn't even made a decision yet. I would often refuse to bring up one community in another community's presence and yet, I had so many good stories to tell. Finally, instead of saying goodbye to a community, I said goodbye to having to make a decision.

    Last September, I told myself that I have two years left of college and I should spend them free and happy, not tied down to a decision or the anxiety that came with it. I remembered being so eager to enter religious life right after high school and thinking I had my whole life planned out. God thought otherwise. I spent all of last year spending free time with the sisters on campus and then with the sisters at home. The more I let go of the anxiety that came with having to make a decision, the more I was able to get closer with specific sisters. The anxiety of decision-making had become a blockade to personal relationships. Letting go of that need to make a decision allowed me to be more open and listen better to those around me who had such wisdom. The year of taking off from decision-making truly was one of the most freeing years in my discernment. I was able to focus more on my personal ministry as a college student and young person of the church. I was able to freely give of myself without having to worry. How beautiful?! 

     But like I said, I'm coming up on my final year in college. Yep, I'm officially a Senior now. That means: one year until the real world. Ohhhhh great! But what is the real world for a girl who wants to be a Sister? Well, it's simply this: finding a job and paying off loans. I've gotten the questions about what community I'm choosing very frequently in the past week. I have simply answered with a shrug and a basic, "I just don't know yet." Before, I would have gone through so much anxiety just to answer that question. Now, I know that it's okay to not know. God hasn't revealed to me his plan yet, and....that's okay.

      I will be very honest that at times, often when I spend a very long amount of time with a specific community such as last week in Stone Harbor with the IHMs or in Chicago with my CSFNs, I feel like: YES! This is the right fit! I feel so loved here! Then, I switch gears and spend time with another community and feel the same way. I may think that God is clearly showing me the path of life and then suddenly, I feel the same way about a different community. So then, I go back and forth thinking, hey God, quit playin' games with my heart? But He just laughs and tells me it's all for my own good.

     This morning, my two worlds crashed. I decided to go to one of the neighboring parishes for Mass this morning. Often at these masses, I've seen anywhere from two to four religious communities represented. This morning, only two communities were there. Every so often, my school world and my home world collide and it's usually with the nuns. This morning, my "nuns from school" and my "nuns from home" were both at Mass. As I stood up to leave the church at the end of Mass, one beautiful lady dressed in blue tapped me on the shoulder. Becky, she called me. I had only really met her once or twice; I painted her basement pink with a few of my FYE students and fellow school nuns. Yet, she remembered me and really knew me. She began to tell me that her dad knows my aunt who works in a bakery and told him all about her niece who wants to be a nun. However my aunt, who's not Catholic, apparently told him that I didn't know what community I wanted to enter. I didn't even know she understood what that meant and I'm pretty sure I never told her about it. Anyway, her dad told her about my aunt and immediately she thought of me. Meanwhile, as we are talking, a beautiful lady dressed in black and white began her way over to my side of the church. I was grateful to Sister for acknowledging that there is a decision that needs to be made BUT NOT YET and she assured me that no matter what God chooses for me, she will always support me. All this from a woman I barely knew. Finally, my two worlds collided as we stood there, three of use, wearing black and blue and white.

    This meeting of my Sisters was strange and yet, peaceful. I knew though, the moment I left the scene and got in the car, that it was a subtle reminder from God that eventually I will have to make a decision. Yet, I also knew that God will give me the decision when He is ready. And so, for now, I will continue to discern with both communities; I will continue to make deeper and more personal relationships with sisters from both communities. I will not let the anxiety of making a decision rule my actions but rather the peace of knowing that God will show me the way. There is so much to love about both communities and so much good that could come from a vocation to them. But at the end of the day, I will have to make an open decision. Of course, I haven't quite ruled out the possibility of creating my own community. Hmm....

This Girl Is On Fire - Advent Day 2

"She's just a girl and she's on fire.

She's living in a world and it's on fire.

Feeling the catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away.

Oh, she got both feet on the ground, 

and she's burning it down."

- "Girl On Fire," Alicia Keys

    The goal is to ready your hearts. That's the main goal of Advent. Ready your hearts for the coming of Jesus...the little baby. Over the past few weeks God has given me a lot to think about (and stress about....and by stress, I mean pray...). Advent is usually one of my most favorite seasons of the year because it is the start of the new Liturgical year. It means Christmas is coming. And yet, it seems this year that there is a bit of blockage in my heart. Things, inside, have honestly been a little rough lately. And since I told you this is about ups AND downs, I feel I can share!

    There are two weeks of school left and a ton of school work to accomplish. In addition, I am required to maintain somewhat of a social life by attending the Christmas activities. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I feel burnt out. But the burn out is more in my heart than in my brain. My heart is recovering by a little more brokenness than I think I chose to accept. It's trying to figure out relationships and how much can it share with someone without sharing too much. Who can it trust? Who can it bleed (cry) in front of? How much can it sacrifice until finally breaking? And how close can it get with people without it meaning more? You see, so many relationship issues have come into play in my life recently between friends, best friends, family members, and yes, boys. My heart has felt lonely in so many ways lately and the fire that seemingly used to be on fire is burning out. Logic says that water puts out flames even more so, but this Saturday, I learned that it is quite the opposite when it comes to the fire of the heart. 

    This past Saturday, we had a day long (seriously....8:30am to 10:30pm) retreat called "Hearts on Fire." Since we are being honest here, I'll tell you that as much as I love retreats, I don't like these types of retreats. It's hard for me to find "retreat" in a series of intellectual talks and strictly scheduled activities. For me, retreat should be a time where I can embrace quietude and less of a dependency on time. But, I went with it. I helped out more than I participated, registering people in the beginning, singing at Mass and the likes. At the end of the day, I really thought that I hadn't gotten much from God during the day. But, like usual, God was waiting for the last possible moment to give me a wow moment. He waits until I am just about to give up and surprises me. 

    My Daddy was coming to pick me up after Retreat, but he came a little early to hear the last talk and go to Adoration with us. While I can't honestly tell you what the last talk was about, I will remember Adoration forever. My dad and I sat in the same pew, but quite a distance apart. As soon as the Blessed Sacrament was exposed, tears started running down my face. Despite being surrounded by a ton of people, strangers at that, I just let the tears go as if it was just me and Jesus. As I was sitting, crying, in my heart, all I wanted was a hug. I wanted someone to wrap their arms around me and protect my heart. I wanted my heart to stop hurting so bad. I asked God for a hug. It was almost as if He said, "DUH," because I looked right at my real Daddy. So, I did what every little girl does when she's hurt. I went to my Daddy. He immediately put his arm around me and I cried. I cried, and essentially sobbed and he just held me. Oh to feel so little and protected again. Instead of the fire going completely out with the water of my tears, they were like kindling. 

     The next morning, after really reflecting on and thanking God for my hour of Adoration with my Daddy, I sat down and prepared myself to once again be a Sponsor for the Sacrament of Confirmation. For for the fifth time in my twenty years of life, I was a sponsor. And what a joy, yet again, it was. Ironically, the same Bishop was Confirming this time, confirmed me so many years before. It was so perfect that on this start of Advent, Giovanna took the name Anne (Mary's Mama). How excited Mary must have been to be expecting a baby, but imagine Grandma's joy! Especially for the FIRST GRANDBABY! Yes, how perfect Confirmation was! When Bishop Maginnis shook my hand at the end of Confirmation (after remembering confirming me so many years previously), he mentioned I should stay out of trouble. I answered as honestly as I could, "If only it were that easy." His response? "Touche, wise one. Try." It added a bit more kindling to the small flame beginning again in my heart!

      That afternoon, there was no rushing around, and so, I treated my littlest sister to a lunch date! I let her choose the place and the lunch we split (since we ironically have the smallest appetites ever). I even humored her by ordering a blue soda for her and for me. Needless to say, we were sick to our stomachs from laughing so hard, eating so much, and we both had blue tongues to share the tale. At the end of the date, she took my hand and said, "Well this was nice time spent together before you go back to school. Thanks, Becky." She sounded so mature for her little 8-year old self! I felt so blessed in that moment! The fire was growing bigger. 

      This fire, now slowly coming back like a campfire in the dead of Winter, was struggling still, but growing. I was trying so hard to feel something other than brokenness in my heart for this Advent and still, it didn't seem like this little flame was going to be enough. I had just finished my first class today when I remembered I had to stop by work study to get some info for an upcoming fundraiser. It went a lot shorter than I expected, actually. At the end, Sister Cathy surprised me by asking if I wanted to pray the Advent reflection with her. When I thought about it, she had never asked me to pray with her before. It's something I've done with so many other sisters, but never with her. It was definitely some unique kindling to add to my flame of heart. 

     So, after all of this being said, my heart is fostering a little flame inside. I can feel it really trying to grow. Maybe your heart is the same. Maybe you feel so cold that you can believe there's a fire there. Maybe all that is needed for a fire is there, you just need some flint or matches. Or maybe your heart already is a flaming hearth! However your heart may be, be open to the kindling that will be thrown into your fire. Maybe it's the Scriptures, maybe it's a conversation, maybe it's a bit of kindness and gentleness shown toward you. Whatever it is, I can guarantee that God is giving you kindling and logs for your fire! I'm waiting for my logs to come, just like I am waiting for Baby Jesus. God is preparing my heart for His son. Remember, it's going to be cold around here when Jesus comes. He's going to need some place warm to stay. Make it your heart. Be a girl (or guy) on fire!