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

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!

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. 

Life As A Sheep

"The Lord will guard us as a Shepherd guards His flock."

- Jeremiah 31

I know it's a goat...but you get the point. 

     Did you ever have a "DUH!" moment while sitting in Mass? Have you ever been sitting there, listening intently to the readings or the homily and have a mind-blowing realization? Like suddenly everything makes sense? Well, I get those moments and realizations every so often and this week was full of them. I'll start with Wednesday. 

     While I was sitting in my regular pew in Chapel, I was trying hard to stay wide awake. These nights have been late nights as I still am trying to adjust from that one hour time difference between here and Jamaica. Ok, I'm really just using that as my excuse...I'm a night owl. I'll be honest and say that I completely missed the whole first reading, and I was that awkward girl who slurred all the words of the really long response at the responsorial psalm because I couldn't remember it. As for the Gospel, don't ask me about it; that slipped my focus, too. So what was I focused on during Mass on Wednesday? The Homily. I love when priests give a short, sweet and to the point Homily but it's one that really sticks it to the man. Something with a lot of punch and gusto. The Homily was: "Two questions: Do you know you're a sheep of the shepherd? And are you willing to share that fact?" That's it, the end, no time for an answer. Right away, I started laughing. I was immediately reminded of how I taught the children in Jamaica how to "Bahhhhh" as a sheep or a goat. We spent a good half hour of our walk, "Bahhhh"-ing at every goat we saw. It was pretty precious. I couldn't help but think, I can easily impersonate a sheep and a goat, so I must be practicing in acting as a sheep. And even though all those children don't know it, they are practicing being sheep, too. Yes, I am a proud sheep for sure. And now that I've told you all about my being a sheep, I can answer Father's second question with a yes, too.

      Now for today's "duh" moment. The first reading today said: "God loves a cheerful giver." The response said, "Blessed the man who lends to those in need." And the Gospel said, "Where I am, there my servant shall also be." I suddenly realized why I have this desire to serve God and His people. I am a relatively cheerful person. Most who know me say that I am filled to the brim with positive energy and optimism. Father said in his Homily today that most cannot give financially to those in need and so what God calls us to do is give of ourselves and give our time. Josh Turner sings, "Time is Love" and he is so right. God is everywhere, truly, and so wherever God calls me to go, whether it be my hometown, New Orleans, Jamaica or anywhere else in the world, I've got to go. God gave me this "gypsy soul" and "missionary heart" for a reason: I need to give my time to those in need, be a cheerful giver and be willing to go where He is. The "duh" moment was: "No wonder I have this desire to travel and work with those in need...where God is, there I will go...and God is there." 

      Shepherds were nomadic people, and so as a sheep, a follower of the Shepherd, I must be willing to go wherever He goes and go bearing a smile for all to see. I must be willing to give my time as love. I must be willing to serve wherever God is. And so ladies and gents, or shall I say, rams and ewes, that is the life of a sheep. Bahhhhh!

P.S. Shout out to Sister Angela of Jesus the Good Shepherd on her Vow-aversary!