Pray for Surf

"Life is a lot like surfing.

When you get caught in the impact zone, 

you've got to just get back up.

Because you never know what might be

over the next wave."

- Bethany Hamilton

     It was a spur of the moment, mid-week decision: I was going to accompany three of my good friends to the Surfing Contest in Stone Harbor at Nun's Beach. I had originally planned on staying home and catching up on some sleep since it was a crazy first full week of school, but the girls convinced me otherwise. Besides who doesn't need a trip to the beach every so often, even when it's no longer Summer beach weather. Before I knew it we were all set and ready to leave Immaculata at the crack of dawn to make the two hour trek down to the beach. After a stop at Wawa for some breakfast and coffee, we were on our way. 

    Of course, some of you reading this might be saying, "I didn't know she surfed." Well folks, sorry to disappoint, but I do not surf. So why were we going to the surf contest? Well to steal a look or two at some surfer boys, of course. No, I'm just kidding. Actually, we had been recruited by my dear Sister Elaine to go and help the Sisters run the show. The Nun's Beach Surf Contest is an annual fundraiser for the Sisters of the IHM's Retreat House, Villa-Maria-by-the-Sea. For a few years in a row, the four of us had gone down in the Spring to help clean up the retreat house for the beginning of the retreat season. We only thought it fair to volunteer for the end of the retreat season fundraiser. Besides, this is my potential future beach house we are talking about. 

     We pulled into Stone Harbor about 9:30 (we missed the turn for 55 which set us back a bit) and headed straight to the kitchen. After a quick hello and a selfie with Sister Bern, we were ready for the food tent. The morning was full of cookies, brownies, coffee, laughter and inquiries about the famous chili and pizza. Of course, that was our shared morning. My personal morning consisted of believing a false tale of seagull brownie snatchers, watching the Hot Chocolate queen make the "secret recipe," and snapping photos of cute surfer boys (8 year olds with surfer hair just melt my heart) and my favorite nunnies. Over the course of the day, I had my life planned out for me by Sister Elaine, we wrote a rap, and we even did some dancing. I'll admit, I didn't see much of the surf contest, but I didn't complain. I got to spend the day outside with my favorite ladies who didn't judge me for my insane ocean-wind hair. 

     We were so blessed to have the rain hold off while we were outside. As we cleaned up the food tent (and all the extra hot dogs...I have never seen so many in my life), the drizzle drops started to come down. But, we made it inside before it down-poured, praise God. We had about an hour of downtime before dinner and the next event, so the four of us headed out to the front porch. Some of us took a nap...ahem...while others enjoyed some small talk. Of course, the sleeping princess (I do look like one if I don't say so myself), was awakened from her nap for dinner. It was then that I found myself among even more friends. 

     I have to admit that I didn't know a lot of the Sisters working the day's events before I got there, but I certainly left with a few more friends (on Facebook). I found myself eating dinner around a little island in the kitchen with some old acquaintances who quickly became good friends. I admittedly always laugh the hardest when I'm with the Sisters. Whether it's a Sister who I just met or someone I've known for years, usually at some point in a conversation, I have tears in my eyes from laughter. I re-met Sister Judy, became facebook friends with Sister Amadeo, and of course, sang our rap for Sister Elaine. It was like being among family, simply eating around the island with the girls. 

      The past two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster, as any might suspect. I started my new job, I've made lots of transitions, I've had to adjust my spiritual life to make time for adult life...it's a roller coaster. At one point last week, I cried bitterly on the way home simply because I missed "my girls in blue." It's different from missing my friends. If I'm missing one of them, I can easily shoot them a text or call them and they'll more than likely answer. With the Sisters, it's not so easy. They all have different schedules and texting isn't always easy. I was so used to seeing them every single day at Mass, getting at least fifty hugs a day from them, and enjoying a friendly banter with the older Sisters. They were more than just religious to me, they became my Sisters, "my girls." Not seeing them every day now is hard for me and I miss them more than words can express. Spending the day at the beach with some of my original group of nunnies and adding a few more to the "my girls" category was exactly what I needed. 

       I needed the laughter of tears rolling down my cheeks, I needed an insane amount of moments to embarrass myself by being freely, I needed the companionship of "my girls," heck, I'll even admit to needing all the hugs and love. I can't tell you how many goofy pictures we took with the girls, how many insane moments we shared, how many beautiful conversations happened over cranberry sauce, washing dishes and horse-racing. The truth is, these lovely women of God made it so easy for me to forget that I had ever felt like a piece of me was missing from being away from the ladies in blue for so long. I know I am so insanely blessed to have so many women with whom I share a companionship. From mentors to friends to partners in crime, these are "my girls." I found it absolutely amazing that I now share a deeper friendship with many of the Sisters who I just met. It's a wonder how friendships can be established over only a course of a few hours. I am feeling so blessed.

       Our night didn't end with dinner, of course. The four of us girls found ourselves helping prep dinner, wash dishes and even clean up. The second part of the fundraiser is a dinner and raffle night for many patrons of the retreat house. While many of the Sisters were out on the floor serving dinner, the girls were back in the kitchen helping things go as smoothly as possible. We weren't only on kitchen duty though, we had to introduce our beloved teacher, Sister Elaine, for her role in the horse race. Yes, that rap we wrote earlier in the day was making a come back that night. Everyone enjoyed it. Of course, with a line like "she went on one small date and her ma got scared, she said, you're moving to the convent in malvern, pa," how could you not like it. A good time was honestly had by all. 

      As we drove back to school that night, I couldn't help but thank God for all my blessing that I had received that day. It simply proved my belief that the more you give of yourself, the more blessings you receive. I simply gave my two hands and volunteered for the Sisters at the Surf Contest. What I got in return was a ay full of laughter, good times, good food and many new friendships. I had been missing the feeling of belonging, the feeling of family, and the ladies in blue, my girls, gave it back to me. Of course, there was a small fee for some: one selfie, please. Next year, I hope to be finding myself praying for surf once again with my girls at Nun's Beach.

Chosen and Precious - Baccalaureate Mass

"Behold I am laying a stone in Zion, 

a cornerstone, chosen and precious."

- 1 Peter 2:6

     On Tuesday morning I found myself driving the oh so familiar drive to Immaculata. There were no students about as the semester had ended for the Summer last Monday and the hallways were quiet. I walked the familiar walk to the music hall where I had often spent time practicing for one thing or another. I couldn't stand the silence that surrounded me in the building. But before I knew it, I was back to making noise. I was lucky enough to get to spend three hours practicing for Baccalaureate with Sister Regina. 

     Yes, for three hours both in the music hall and in the chapel at Villa Maria H of S, we practiced every single piece for Baccalaureate Mass. Sister handed me my binder and told me I had a few days left to practice. Cue nerves. I ended my day, as I end most if not all visits to the noble hill, with a visit to Sister Cathy. Truly it would have been an incomplete day without seeing my Sister Sunshine. 

     The week went by quickly and before I knew it, I was once again in the car, traveling the familiar way to IU. This time, however, I had to keep telling myself to keep it together. I was more nervous than I had ever been before. I'm not a music major, but I have always loved to sing. At IU, I was blessed to be a cantor for Mass for the past four years. That led to me being the cantor for our Baccalaureate Mass. While I may always seem to have all my ducks in a row when I'm singing, I am actually terrified out of my mind. However, I grew used to the congregation at IU, which usually consisted of my friends and some nunnies, and singing there wasn't nearly as bad. Today, however, I would be singing in front of my class, many of whom had no idea I sing, their families, and of course, the nunnies. Something about that Chapel, which usually always has me at peace, terrified me. Maybe it was the strong acoustics, maybe it was the amount of the people in the congregation, I don't know. Regardless, I knew I was scared out of my mind. My hands were so jittery I could hardly hold my binder. However, the moment the music began, I looked out at the people, saw all my best friends, saw my family AND saw all my nunnies. 

      A singer always knows that she must find a spot in the room to look so as to not see a particular person and get emotional. However, as a cantor one must find a few spots because she must always "use her eyes to invite the people in to sing," at least that's what they told me when I was younger. So, I found a Sister in every section of the chapel. Suddenly, the jitters were gone and when I looked up at the crucifix behind me really quickly, I knew I was going to be okay. Everything came as if I was born singing those hymns, that psalm and that tortuous alleluia verse that we had to re-write twice. I wasn't nervous anymore because I realized I was no longer singing for any particular person in that Chapel, I was singing for the greater glory of God. I was happy. I closed my eyes and sang, feeling so incredibly free. 

      Of course, something else that comes with the worries of being a cantor or in a choir is Communion. At school, the choir and the organist always received Communion before we sang the Communion hymn. For Baccalaureate, the choir received Communion during the song. Then there was me. Before Mass, we had planned it all out that I would receive Communion after the song. And so, as I was at the lectern singing, I felt the fear of being forgotten for Communion. But then I saw Sister Carol tap the Deacon and remind him that I needed to be taken care of. I smiled and waited for the end. However, when I went around the side to receive the Eucharist, I realized, as Jesus was being put back in the Tabernacle, that my fear had come true. And so with a very heavy heart, I went back to my seat in the choir. I tried so incredibly hard not to cry and told myself that I needed to keep it together. 

      As I was sitting in the choir section behind the altar, I kept hearing my name be called. I would look around and there would be no one calling my name. When I say that I had to try really hard not to cry, I'm being so honest. It wasn't a type of cry that I had ever experienced before. My heart actually felt like it burst because I didn't receive my Jesus. I was so upset and yet, I still kept hearing my name being called. Finally, I just let it go. I resolved to say that I would probably get up early on Sunday and go to an early Mass just so I could receive my Jesus. But even as we were singing the Recessional Hymn, my heart was so heavy and I couldn't focus on the harmony piece I was supposed to be singing. When we finished singing, I took a deep breath and began to walk away. But I heard my name being called again. I was beginning to think I was going crazy when I turned around and saw Sister Marita Carmel coming towards me. 

      When she was close enough she asked, "Bec, would you like to go to Communion?" I smiled and felt from the bottom of my heart the "please" that came out of my mouth. She opened the Tabernacle and right there on the altar, I finally received Communion. As she held up the Holy Eucharist before me and said, "the Body of Christ," I was already crying too hard to give an audible, "Amen." When she put the chalice back in the Tabernacle and turned to me, I hugged her so tightly. I let me tears flow freely and she didn't let go. When she did, she took my hands, looked into my eyes and I saw that she was holding back her tears. I hugged her again and thanked her. When we walked off the altar, a group of Sisters was standing there waiting for us. I got so many hugs from all of them and Sister Elaine even said, "Well, Sister Carmel beat the twelve of us who were going to make sure you got Communion." 

       As usual, I was one of the last people to leave the Motherhouse (even my family left before me) and I spent my time taking pictures with Sisters (and Postulants and Novices), including a selfie with the Mother General (see above), hugging my friends and their families, and yes, reflecting on my incredible blessings. As I drove home, I couldn't stop thanking God not only for allowing me to sing with a strong voice during Mass, but also for all the Sisters who were so ready to jump up immediately after Mass and make sure this Becca got her Jesus. I cried not only from being able to be united with my Jesus but also because I had so many spiritual mothers looking out for me. There are so many Sisters who up until the last few weeks of school I wasn't very close with. But in those last few weeks, I was blessed to have what I call, good-bye moments. Whether it was a walk or a chat in a Sister's office or even a hug, I suddenly was getting closer with these Sisters before the end of my time at IU. 

     Sister Carmel and I have shared some signs of peace during Mass, we've taken a selfie, she's given me advice on proper shoes (during Lent), and most recently she was my Sister Captain in Stone Harbor (aka she headed our cleaning team). I didn't really get to know her or she get to know until we were in Stone Harbor. I'm sure she had heard or seen me being my crazy self on campus, but she didn't get to firsthand experience my sass and silliness until then. She, who always wears a somewhat serious face, laughed with me as we accidentally broke curtain rods or made beds inside out. She laughed as I pretended to be a novice with the bed cover. And she laughed when something so incredibly sassy came out of my mouth without pretense. That week, I felt like I got to know Sister Carmel a little better. And while I was grateful for those moments, I am even more so grateful for the moment we shared yesterday. I truly felt that in that moment it wasn't just a hug but rather of two souls meeting. In that moment she was witness to the amount of emotion that comes from the soul being united with the Eucharist. In that moment, I was witness to the devotion of my Sisters. Yes, truly in that moment, we were doubly blessed. 

      Usually in the car I am singing to every song on the radio and changing stations when commercials come on. When I got in the car to drive home, I didn't change the station if a commercial was on or even sing along to any song that was played. I was too wrapped up in my blessings of the day. I was thanking God the entire way home. And as I pulled into good old Croydon, driving over the creek, I looked out my window and saw the most beautiful sunset. There was no question in my mind about feeling chosen and precious by the Lord. Truly, this is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad.