Desert Silence

"Praying - a silence in which
another voice may speak."
- Mary Oliver, "Thirst"

     As soon as I saw the mountains in the backyard of Villa Maria, La Planicie, I knew immediately that I wanted to climb them. I saw them as I see the ocean, something in which I can be alone and at peace. Just as I so often find the grandeur of God in the ocean, I felt the immense glory of God calling me to the tops of those mountains. I didn't look at them as most hikers or backpackers would, as something to be conquered, but rather, I saw them as something that I knew would conquer me.

    Our first taste of the mountains was when Sister Annette took us on a tour of the "backyard." We didn't go very far, but despite the small distance into the mountains we went, it was breathtaking. We didn't go very high, but the group of us stood on a path that seemed carved out only by God. Sister was telling us about a time she had gone up the mountains and sat incredibly still while she was on retreat some time ago. After her story, she made us stand there in silence. It was deafening. There were no birds chirping, no sounds of cars or people, no breeze to rustle even the dirt paths. There was absolutely no noise. Then, of course, someone laughed because we are not a silent people. And no, I do not mean our particular group, I mean modern day people. 

     This morning, I was sitting in Mass at St. Charles in Bensalem with my little sister. It what used to be a "cry room" for mothers with babies on Sundays, has been transformed into a side Chapel. There is a glass wall and two glass doors separating the room from the big church. Because there isn't too much room in the side Chapel, many people, including my sister and I, sit in the church and listen to Mass. Lizzie and I sit close to the glass wall, however, just so she can see what is going on. Usually, there is a microphone for the priest and the reader to use so that the people in the Church can listen, but today there was no microphone. Suddenly, the people in the Church started to state the obvious: the microphones are not on, etc. They began to move and hustle around making it so that one could not hear at all. However, when all was quiet again, despite there not being any microphones, if one listened really intently, he or she could hear what was going on. I found myself listening, focusing on every word that was said, and quieting my own mind. I found myself being silent. After Mass, as I reflected on this phenomena, I thought, once again of the desert. 

      On one particular afternoon, two of my friends from our trip and myself decided to go climb the mountain. We didn't set out to climb to a specific height or go to a specific peak, we just wanted to go, and so we went to the first place Sister Annette took us. We climbed and climbed and climbed. I felt the top of that particular mountain calling me forth; I needed to go there. It was rough, my lungs ached, my feet hurt and I had no idea how I was going to get down. I was sweating and since most of the mountain is made of dirt, my skin was soon being caked in dirt. Yet, I knew I had to get there. I kept climbing until finally, I reached the top with Nicole. Then, immediately I felt tears build up in my eyes. 

      I looked around the top of the mountain for a section to sit down. Where I sat is where I took the above picture. Yes, I sat down on a rock that essentially allowed me to dangle my feet over a very steep edge. Then, I sat there. I closed my eyes and I let the silence flow over me. Again, there were no birds, no animals, no wind, nothing. We were so high up that you could see the city of La Molina but you couldn't hear a single sound. My thoughts were deafening. Being up there, I began to pray. I had almost every fear and ambition on my mind but suddenly, I was being quieted. All my thoughts began to cease and I felt the true presence of God with me. 

      Yesterday, I went to visit my dear (dare I say it?!) alma mater and my Sisters there. While most of the conversation was in good favor and lots of sharing of my recent adventure to Peru, there was some very serious conversation, too. I hadn't planned to see Sister Annette yesterday, but as I waited in the convent dining room for Sister Elaine, she popped out of the kitchen and asked me to stop over in her office when I got back. She wanted to see my pictures, of course. And so, after lunch with Sister Elaine, I walked over to her office and let her browse through my pictures. I could see how much each picture brought back to her mind the memories of not only our two weeks there, but also of all the years she was missioned there. And as I watched her, I felt so much emotion flow through my heart. Joy at the sight of all the smiles and almost tears at the sight of all the people I love so dearly there. After she finished with the pictures, she turned to me and we had a chat. 

      She told me that I was quieter than usual and it seemed that I was perplexed by something. While yes, there was a lot on my mind concerning big and little moments of future life, my quiet persona of the day was actually the real Becca, I told her. Many people do not see pensive, reflective, quiet Becca, but she's there deep inside. I've always been a "watcher," one who takes in everything and then later, I explode about it. I see things for what they are in their stillness and reality. She asked how I was and I responded by saying, "I just am." I was sitting in her office as I was sitting on the desert mountain, in silence with thoughts slowly going through my mind until there were none left. I admit that there was a point in our conversation where I felt tears build up in my throat, but really I was at peace with just "being." I had no where to go and all day to do it. 

     She reminded me yesterday that I need to continuously be open to the Spirit; I need to listen to Him. That traveled with me as I remembered the mountains and the silence I experienced there. This morning when I was trying really hard to focus on listening at Mass, I also remembered her words. You see, I cannot truly listen if there is noise. Just as I couldn't hear what was going at Mass while the people were making a fuss, I cannot hear God if my mind is flood with thoughts and actions. I cannot listen to God if I am constantly on the run. He calls me from the desert mountaintops to come and sit and just be with Him. He calls me into the desert, not only the real desert like in Peru, but the figurative desert. It is there where I may feel tired, achy and sweaty of all that life has given me. But if I allow myself the time to sit and be with Him, He will silence me and there I will hear His voice. Because just as in a conversation, when I am quiet, I allow the other person to speak. In the desert, God does all the speaking. But it comes in the form of silence. I simply have to listen to what the silence does to my soul. 

Enjoy a bit of silence today, on me. 

A Reason to be here...

          For the first time in over three months, I went back to my home Parish for Mass. Out of the three times I’ve been home from school, I haven’t gone to Mass at my Parish; I’ve gone with the sisters. Even when I’m home during breaks, I don’t go to my own Parish for a plethora of reasons. The main reason is that I find I can’t focus when I’m home. Between sitting with my little sisters and giggling through the whole Mass to seeing the large amount of parishioners that literally line up to talk to me about a various list of topics stemming from school, to discernment, to Scripture. Gee whiz, I’m flattered really, but I need to focus on my Jesus. Another reason is that sometimes going to my home Parish is too painful for various reasons, and instead of being reminded of those memories, I prefer to church hop. But alas, today there was not nearly enough energy in my system to church hop and I had already spent two full days with the sisters (not that either party would have minded…just my family), and I found myself sitting in a side pew, trying my hardest to be incognito about being home.

            As I knelt there, I attempted to focus but I was once again too distracted by the sea of familiar faces and the sometimes painful memories. In desperation, I merely said, “Jesus, why am I here. Give me a reason to be here.” Now I must tell you, it’s not a secret that my Boyfriend loves me, but sometimes He likes to teach me patience. Today, however, He delivered ASAP.

            If you’ve ever spoken with a Vocation Director, he or she may have told you to pay close attention to the Scriptures because that is Jesus’ love letter to us. Some days I find it easy to listen intently to Scripture but I often have those mornings where I’m still half asleep when I’m at Mass. Today, thank goodness, I was wide awake, or I would have missed JC’s message to me.

            First, the first reading was from the book of Wisdom. One line in particular spoke to me saying, “Those who wait for her at dawn will not be disappointed.” I felt as if Scripture was talking about me. You see, as a college student, it’s not normal to get up at the crack of dawn when classes don’t start for another two, sometimes three hours. Yet, the dawn is my time with JC. I’ve always loved sunrises and JC sure does paint a beautiful picture for me every morning. For He who waits for me every morning at dawn, I will not disappoint.

            Second, for the first time, I heard the new assistant priest give a homily. At first I was confused because I had never seen him before. Ever. But my little sis insisted he had been there a while. And so, after the initial confusion, I sat intently and tried to listen as closely as possible. However, my little sis, like me, sometimes doesn’t know when to stop talking and so, we had our own conversation. Suddenly, she stopped dead in the middle of a sentence to say, “Becky, did you hear that?” and before I could ask what she was talking about, I heard it: “…Holy Family of Nazareth.” I was literally blown away. You see, not only was the Homily (I soon learned) about the love of the Holy Family of Nazareth, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth is one of the few communities I’ve explored in my discernment, but they are also the community I was “raised” by and within which I find so many of my best friends.

            And so, in response to my, “Jesus, give me a reason o be here,” He answered, “…Holy Family of Nazareth.” Perhaps it was nothing short of a sign from JC to set me in the right direction. Or maybe it was the sign that I needed to LOVE even more and in that LOVE be open to GOD’s plan for me, not my own plan. Regardless, I’m still head over heels in love with my Jesus. He has truly captured my heart and I am His.