Pondering These Things

"Mary treasured up these things and

pondered them in her heart."

Luke 2:19

      "How did you get a baby who is so good in church?"

      "Your little baby is so cute; I've never seen such a young baby so well-behaved in church. She didn't even cry."

      "I love watching you love your baby during church."

      These, as well as, many other similar sentiments, are phrases I hear often after Mass on Saturdays and Sundays. Our pastor reminds me every time he sees baby girl that she is just so good and so alert during the Mass. Other parishioners comment to those making the above statements that she has been going to daily Mass since she was only one month old. I must admit, even I, myself, am shocked at how easy it is to bring her to church. I often ponder these statements - how did I get so lucky?

      Normally during Mass, I hold baby girl facing outward so she can see, hear and sense everything going on. Not only does facing her outward help me stay focused (because, let's be honest...it's so hard to not play with her cute little face), but it allows her to become aware of the space she's in. I sing in her ear when I hold her that way. I say the words of the prayers in her ear, too. She usually bops her head around, taking in her surroundings. But this past Sunday, I held her facing me, against my chest. She put her right arm against my shoulder, her head, she placed right on my chest and her left hand was in her mouth. I could hear her sucking her fingers until eventually, she stopped; she fell asleep. Later that afternoon, she fell asleep like that again on my chest. And then again, before I could put her down for bed. 

      As I rested my chin on her forehead, I was reminded of the words of a meditation I heard recently. It brought to mind the image of Mary, having just given birth to Jesus, holding, smelling and breathing with her baby. I became more and more aware of baby girl's breath in union with mine. I smelled her head and remembered Mary also smelling her baby boy. As I held her tightly, I imagined Mary holding her son close at each moment of his life. I wondered, then, if that was how Mary prayed. 

      In a conversation about prayer, recently, I was asked how I pray. Without thinking too much, I said, "by looking at my baby." Each time I look at her, watch her grow and learn about new things, or watch her eyes flutter as she dreams, I am brought to the mystery of God and God's creation. It is still so fascinating to think about my baby once being the size of a poppy seed. I am baffled by the fact that for 9 months I carried her within and within a matter of a few minutes, she was lying on my chest. I can hardly wrap my mind around this creation; she is so tiny and yet, so incredibly intricately designed. She is beauty, goodness and light; my heart swells with so much love for her each time I look into eyes. She was so worth the wait and I never want to put her down. She is my means of prayer. 

     But also, I am led deeper into prayer when I watch others interact with her. I love watching my husband, my Joseph, hold her, snuggle her, look in her eyes, and talk with her. Having loved him so much before, I love him even more now. Watching him interact with her, watching him pray, leads me deeper into the mystery. When I see how others look at her, awe at her, and enter into the mystery of her, I am reminded of the shepherds and the wise men and all those who came to visit Jesus. Mary willingly handed them her son to hold, to stare at, to talk to. She watched others interact with her son, her source of light, goodness and beauty. She watched and held these things in her heart; she pondered them. 

     There are not enough words to describe how lifted I feel when I enter into prayer by holding, watching or smelling my baby. There is no preparation like "Now, I am going to pray." It is as simple as just touching her hand; suddenly I am engulfed in mystery. She is the pathway by which I reach the divine; she is the means by which I am joined to God. There are not enough words to describe the overwhelming presence of God I feel when I watch others interact with her. She is so pure and good and beautiful; I tell her every day. Through these things, so many experience God. 

    So how did I get such a good baby; I'm not quite sure. Perhaps she, too, is entering into prayer in the sacred spaced. Perhaps she is aware of the presence of the Eucharist. Perhaps she is aware that it is her space for prayer. Perhaps she is so good because she is somehow aware that so many people are watching her and by watching her, are finding themselves in a deeper prayer. Of these things, I am not sure. But I do know that I cannot imagine a celebration of Liturgy without her now. Each time I witness the sacrifice of the Mass, I am reminded of the sacrifice of my body and how through that sacrifice, I was given the greatest gift this side of Heaven has to offer. How blessed am I to have this direct pathway to my God and how lucky I am to share her with so many! How can you not look at her and immediately be elevated in prayer?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EatBZECJ0v4

The Mystery of Motherhood

"Sometimes when you pick your child up, you can feel the map of your own bones

beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of her neck. This

is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood - finding a piece of yourself separate and

apart that all the same you could not live without."

- Jodi Picoult

     Last night, right before we were getting ready to turn off the lights and hit the hay, my husband said, "I could just stare at her all day and night; it's amazing. We helped create her." Every day, I feel like I spend hours just staring at our baby and thinking the same thing. Neither of us have said it out loud to each other before until last night. But let me assure you, I think about it every day - the mystery of this child. 

     For those who have followed this blog, you may have realized that I took a few months hiatus. Surprise, we had a baby. She has taken up every ounce of our extra time and we could not be any more blessed and grateful to our God for this gift. Right now, she is sound asleep in my lap and I keep taking breaks from thinking and typing to stare at her. She is beautiful, amazing, already so smart, incredible and such a gift. My heart swells with each moment I stare at her, interact with her and snuggle her. How did I get chosen to be this little one's mother? 

    I am grateful for my time off to be spent with her. In these days we have together we have spent many hours visiting with friends and family; especially with other new mommy friends and the many, many sisters we know and love. Sometimes this means we experience a few hours in the car together during the week. I used to love blasting music as I drove - it kept me calm while I was surrounded by maniac drivers. But now, I leave the radio off and silent, just so I can listen to her breathing and take many glances in the rear view just to watch her look around in wonder or her eyes fluttering as she sleeps. And in those moments, I can only pray "Oh my God, she is a miracle and so incredibly fascinating."

      These drives allow me much time to contemplate the great mystery of life's creation. Someone gave us a picture frame as a gift that says, "All because two people fell in love." While this is true, it is only half the story. We have kept her ultrasound pictures up on the fridge - every single one from the very first peanut looking ultrasound to her last 3D image that looks just like her (I mean duh...but like also, WOW). Each time I look at those, I think about her stages of development in the womb.  I think about how she had a heartbeat before I even knew she existed. I think about how she could hear our voices in the womb and how she shows she recognizes them now, outside the womb. I think about how we quite literally watched her grow with each picture and how we watched her move when we had those ultrasounds. I think about how every week for the last two months I got to hear her heartbeat for an hour; I didn't mind being hooked up to those monitors then. 

     And now, I look at her eyes and her cheeks and her lips and I think about how all that came from something so incredibly tiny; how we all came from that. And as much as biology could explain it, I know that there's more to it than just a fertilized egg that grew into a human baby outside the womb. God had his hands in this from every moment of her life. It was just because two people fell in love; she's here because two people fell in love with each other AND God's divine plan for our life- whatever that may turn out to be. She is a miracle because she exists and every moment, when I get to truly think about it, I remember her kicks from when she was in my womb and now I watch her kick so fiercely during tummy time. I watch her sleep with her hands by her face, just like how she appeared in every ultrasound. She was all snuggled up in the womb and she still turtles up when she snuggles on her daddy's chest. How did she have so much personality before she was even born? I cannot deny, even if I wanted to, that her life was so real before she was born. 

      We were lucky enough to have a dream birth experience with her, surrounded by great nurses and doctors. This little girl made her delivery a beautiful experience of creation. I still think, how did that happen to the three of us? How did we get so blessed to experience God's handiwork in action like we did?  When I recount those minuscule details of the day - how she started to alert of us of her arrival at 3am (and how she still, without fail, wakes up around the same time every night now...), to walking through the hallways wondering when she was going to come, to listening to her heart beating on the inside for hours only to, within minutes, hear her heartbeat on the outside for the first time - I am overwhelmed by the mystery of human creation. It's not just that God gave her blue eyes, ten tiny fingers and toes, and a precious button nose; it's that this bundle of joy started out as a dream quite literally the size of a peppercorn at her beginning and now she's this. 

    As much as I don't want her to grow, because I love how tiny and precious she is, I am in awe of the miracle that she is. Day by day, it doesn't seem like she gets much bigger, but when we hit milestones like having to size up in diapers or buy new jammies because she is bursting out of her old ones, I am fascinated that one day, this tiny human might have her own tiny humans. I am in awe of the fact that not only will we watch her learn letters and numbers, or discover her likes and dislikes, but we will also watch her fall in love and become a being all unto her own. As my MIL told me, if I didn't watch Joe grow up, I wouldn't have you. It's amazing; this journey of parenthood. 

     I've read so many articles on being told to enjoy it while it lasts but coming from mothers who find it difficult to do so when the baby is screaming or fussy or it's frustrating to not be able to be your own person anymore, because there's always a tiny human attached to you. Maybe it's my blessing, and I'm trying not to brag, but I am in love every second; even when she wakes me up in the middle of the night or poops all over her outfit for the 5th time in one day. If anything it means she is alive, she is with me and she is a gift from God. 

      Aside from all of this absolutely in love, mushy gushy feelings about my baby, I have also discovered a whole new love for my husband. I had no doubt in my mind that he would become a great daddy. I love the moments I get to witness and overhear when he is with her. Whether it's the moments when I hear him singing to her while he changes her diaper or when he's walking her around the house when she's fussy saying, "Daddy is here; you are safe," over and over, I am filled with happiness. He has never failed me as my husband and now, he is blossoming into an amazing father. We laugh together about the things we didn't know, we experience frustrations together when we can't figure out why she's upset, but my favorite thing to do together with him is just watch her. I have fallen more in love every day than I ever thought possible. As much as I thought I loved him then, I love him even more. He loves staring at her, wondering at her creation, and I love watching him watch her and fall in love with her. I never thought I could love more than I already did, but I was happily proven wrong. It's a great mystery: the creation of life and how one's life, as a result of another life created, continues to grow, form and be blessed in all the surprising ways. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8Tgw0V2XkQ

For Whom The Bell Tolls

"So this bell calls us all;

Know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

- "Meditation 17," John Donne

     "These are my favorite of all days," I told Sister Maureen when she walked into the front office a half hour before First Communion was set to begin. Usually, when I am at work, I am working on some homework. Okay, that's actually false. Most times, I am reading and drinking coffee/tea. But some times, that reading has to do with a class I am in. Other times, I just find myself writing poetry or letters. It's usually quiet at the Fortress Portress on Saturdays, save for the occasional visitor but Sister doesn't really stay very long. There are rarely any visitors who need to gain entrance through the front door and the phone barely rings. It's quiet, so I open the window, let the breeze come in and sip my tea quietly as I read or write my poetry. But yesterday was completely different.

     Sister Susan came bustling in after 9:15 am Mass and asked if I was ready. Well, for what, I wasn't quite sure. So she quickly and excitedly informed me that the second grade girls from the academy would be making their First Communion in a few hours. Suddenly, my whole day was turned upside-down. No homework would be getting done and probably no reading either as this was a day I really had to pay attention to the front door. Suddenly, I was over-joyed and my heart was ready to sing. Mass was set to begin at eleven and people began coming at ten. I couldn't wait. 

      Of course, my fellow Portress girls know that there is a camera at the front door where we watch anyone who is entering. However, people who rarely frequent the Motherhouse don't understand how the front door works. There's a door bell, you usually ring that. However, people can never find it. So, often we just unlock the door from our seats but when we do, it makes a loud alarm noise. It freaks people out and quite honestly, it becomes a source of entertainment for all of us on big days like these. Especially when the younger children try to open the door. On many occasions, I have unlocked the door for a kid and instead of pulling open the door, he will run in and out of the door a million times until his parents come. Then his parents do the same thing. Trust me, it's actually pretty entertaining. 

     On this beautiful day, so many little children, baby brothers and sisters, were running all over the foyer to the Chapel. I couldn't stop smiling. Anytime there are little ones around, I instantly remember my family, which is full of little kids. I am always, as you may have read, the big kid chasing the babes. Essentially, I take care of them all and it's fantastic. So, I was sitting at my desk in the portress office wishing I was with my family on a beautiful like this and then realizing that in less than a week, I would be seeing them. My two little cousins, Claire and Mackenzie will be making their First Communion. There will be a huge family party at the new big house and all my baby cousins will be there. Of course, this also means I will get to see, hold and spoil my God-Daughter. Seeing all the little ones running in and out of Chapel reminded me of that and I was over-joyed with a few of them decided to make the front office a play room. I didn't mind. I hope the sisters don't.....

      I could literally feel in my heart so much happiness. I heard someone shush in the hallway and I knew that it had to be the girls getting ready to line up and enter the Chapel. I jumped out of my seat and stood in the hallway. Each of the girls had their prayer hands folded, smiles draped across their faces and excitement bursting from their hearts. They looked like little princesses and I wished them all congratulations before they went in. Sister Nancy and Sister Maureen Ruth were walking with the girls and I felt so much solidarity with what they were feeling; pure joy. Then suddenly, right before they entered the Chapel, the bells began chiming and I was reminded of how I feel in love with Jesus. 

      Bells. Bells. Bells. Every time I hear church bells, my heart feels ready to explode. I am suddenly taken back to a Spanish Monastery in the days of Teresa of Avila. I feel like a Carmelite nun working the Garden when suddenly the bells remind me and call me to prayers. Bells are the soundtrack to how I fell in love with Jesus. From my room at school, I can hear the bells of Camilla ring at noon and then at six and then again at seven. When I am at work, no matter what the weather, I always throw open the window at six and at seven just to hear the bells. When I go to Mass at the Motherhouse, like I did this morning, I can only feel so much peace in my heart when Sister Marjorie sets off the bells to signal the beginning of Mass. Whenever I hear bells, I instantly am reminded of this vocation Jesus has placed in my heart and I can only say YES YES YES to Him. 

      Right before the girls entered Chapel, I  noticed Sister Nancy place her hand on the shoulder of the girl closest to her. This little girl looked up at her, smiled and in an instant, I was reminded of how I felt on my first communion. I can only speculate that this little girl may have felt a calling in her heart, but I  know that on my First Communion, I felt it. It wasn't about the party, the presents or the cake after Mass; it was about Jesus during Mass. I couldn't wait to finally have Jesus truly in my heart. And I can distinctly remember Sister Thomasita (God bless her soul) telling me all about how Jesus loves me more than I can ever imagine; that's what First Communion was all about. Without really knowing it, I had this joy, this desire, this longing for Jesus more than just in Communion but to be his bride forever. Oh, thinking about it now even sends shivers done my spine. It's like when you realize that your husband and wife (before you're married) is actually the one. I knew that Jesus was the one at eight years old (technically I was only seven...I turned eight three days later). 

       When I think back on how I fell in love with Jesus, I remember those instances of being at the convent or seeing a sister and just feeling simple awe. I remember wanting to know the mystery of what being a nun/sister was. And every time I would hear the bells, I would wonder what they were really doing. Those bells, no matter where they are, call to me, they fill my heart with such a longing for Jesus. They fill my heart with mystery of what religious life really is. Because as much as I know, I don't know. There is still the mystery there. Of course, as I get older and more into finding the specifics of religious life out (and eventually as I join the community Jesus has prepared for me), the mystery seems to wear off. But every so often, whether I'm standing at my window and I see a Sister walking, quietly, prayerfully down the walkway or I hear her singing in the hallway, or walking the Grotto, that mystery comes back. That awe is re-instilled in me. I know now that sisters are real people who go shopping, who drive cars, who are human and can cry, but there is still a mystery that surrounds them. A mystery that at age eight, I wasn't quite sure meant, but I knew I fell in love with. These beautiful women literally spend each day in love with their creator. And every morning when I go to Mass with them, truly how do we all stop singing His praise?! 

      This weekend, I was so blessed to witness just under twenty little girls make their First Communion. By their witness, the mystery of my love relationship with Jesus came back so greatly in my heart. They do not realize it, but they each helped remind me why and how I fell in love with Jesus. Their little hearts, beating with the ringing of the bells in excitement for this COMMUNION OF SOULS reminded me of my vocation, of the mystery of the sisters and of the mystery in my own heart. And Jesus, I could't be any more grateful. I feel this calling SO LARGE in my heart and I CANNOT keep from singing Your Praise. The mystery is flooding my heart! Thank you, Jesus.