A Re-Evaluation of Life Goals - A Story of Katie Holmes and Suri Cruise

"Either do something worth writing or write something worth reading."

- Benjamin Franklin

    First, I would like to extend a serious "Welcome Home" to Suri Cruise and her mom, Katie Holmes. If you've even barely listened to the news recently you know that Katie and Tom have split and are no longer together. Just as quick as the news about their divorce was released, news that Katie re-joined the Catholic faith in a nearby NYC Catholic Church was made known. A little late on her response, Katie must be responding to the "Catholics Come Home Campaign!" I literally jumped for joy when I read the article on Katie's coming home and shouted a big, "Good for you, Katie. You go, girl." 

    Now, I'm really not that big on following the celebs and their drama. It's often way too much drama for this little calma llama. However, this drama is PERFECT drama for my Mama, Mary. You see, the moment I saw Katie had come home to our Mother Church, I started praying for her even more. All the drama the celebs go through is reason enough for people like us to pray for them. But now that she's re-joining the Catholic Faith...hello holy reason to pray!! AND NOW...Katie is enrolling little miss Suri (who I think is one of the cutest celeb children ever) in the Convent of the Sacred Heart School. Now, I don't want to jinx anything, but I've got a pretty good sixth sense involving vocations. Just sayin' that Suri would make a pretty precious Sister Dolores Hart Jr. 

     Little Miss Suri is only 6 six years old so this means she's got a year or two before her First Holy Communion. This also means she's got a good amount of time before she makes her Confirmation, which is my favorite sacrament. So, in reading all this GREAT news, I did a little re-evaluation of my life goals and I've added one: To be Suri Cruise's Confirmation Sponsor. My original goal was to be a sponsor more times than my dad, but I think if I get the blessing of being Suri Cruise's Sponsor, I will automatically trump my dad. Of course, no goal can be reached without a plan and since I have friends everywhere, I am enlisting them in helping me help catechize little miss Suri. What do you think? Haha...if only. 

      In all seriousness, however, I think Katie has a good head on her shoulders sending Suri to a Catholic School and bringing her into our beautiful faith. Who better to guide this precious little one than the Communion of Saints and our Blessed Mother?! I mean really. Suri will get to know Jesus and our Father in Heaven as well as all the numerous, beautiful things about our Faith. And let's be honest...how cool would it be to be a Confirmation sponsor for Suri? I'm just sayin'. I'm pretty sure that would be something worth reading about!!!

Isaiah 49 - Never Forgotten

"I will never forget you. I will not leave you orphaned. I will never forget my own."

- Isaiah 49

    Currently, I am soaking in the almost 100 degree warmth in my bedroom. I am daydreaming about my service trip in seven days and I'm reflecting on how great God has been to me in recent days! Just yesterday I was blessed enough to have lunch with one of my dearest sisters. Our lunch was mainly to talk about my recent "quiet" attitude. This quiet attitude is what I consider my true, reflective self. This is when I take a step back and look at where my life has been and where my life is going. In discussing this quietness with my dear sister, a lot spilled out. It was perhaps the deepest conversation that was ever whispered in that restaurant. Even my dear sister said herself, "I never expected this was what we were going to have to talk about." And so, since this blog is about the ups and downs of discernment, I feel comfortable sharing a bit of our conversation with you.

      I can compare the likes of discerning to that of dating. Often we date many people before we find the right one, the one who we will marry. The same is said for discernment. Many times, a young woman discerns with many communities before finding the one which she will enter. Just as I was not a stranger to dating different young men, I have not been a stranger to discerning with different communities. It almost feels as if God has thrown me in the midst of various communities and said, "HELLOOOOO....just take a look at them." And so, "because God said so, I did so." And yesterday's conversation was about my realization that while I may love both communities so dearly, eventually I will have to verbalize the decision God has made for me. Except there's one problem...God hasn't let me in on that decision yet. And so, my discernment journey has been a little bit of a seesaw, too, in addition to the roller coaster. Because some days I feel so willing to enter one community and then other days I feel like God is pulling me towards the other community. Some say my youthful energy belongs with the younger community while others says the older community will benefit from my energy and have a sort of renewal. Some say my creativity fits one community's charism while my love of and for family fits another community's charism. And then there's my love for mission work: do I stay in the US or do I venture out and go international? In addition to these three things there is so much more to consider and discern when looking at communities. And although many people date different people at different times, my discernment of different communities goes on simultaneously. That sort of makes it a little bit harder. 

     However, there is one thing in my discernment of which I was made aware at the very beginning. It's always been sort of whispered in my ear during my deepest moments of prayer that in formation I have a good chance of being alone. This means I might be the only person in my band/group/party (which is why I must pray even more for my future directresses). When I brought this fact up yesterday, Sister reminded me that I will never actually be alone. And then God decided to remind me of that yet again this morning at Mass. The response was Psalm 94 which reads, "God will not abandon His people." As I heard these words repeated over and over and over, I realized...I am not alone. I never will be. 

     Sunday evening my Parish held it's first "Vocation Chat" night during which I was blessed to share my discernment story. I felt so blessed to be surrounded by so many different parishioners. There were the little ones, the teenagers, my family, parents, grandparents, sisters, married people and single people. I always knew my parish supported me in my vocation, but I never really knew how much! This night was a reminder that I am not alone. While I might be alone in my formation, God has not abandoned me. He has given me a beautiful Parish family, a beautiful REAL LIFE family and so many sisters, like my dear Sister from yesterday, to prove that to me. He has not forgotten me for sure, and I am definitely never alone. 

     I can't wait for our next "Vocation Chat" night just so that I can remind my parish how blessed I am to have them!! I am so grateful to God for those reminders that I am not alone and I am so grateful for you because I know if you are reading this, you have at least said a prayer for me!!! Thank you for reminding me that I am never alone. And even though the discernment road does get hard, I am waiting on the Lord to bless me with His decision! 

I Pray For My Future Directresses Every Day - An Adventurous Soul Story

"I've got a gypsy soul to blame and I was born for living."

- Colder Weather, Zac Brown Band

     In a casual conversation the other day, I said, "I pray for my future directresses because I'm crazy." The young woman I was talking with replied, "I think it's great that while most people pray for their future husbands, you pray for them." But why..why would I pray for my future directresses? Well, because I've got such an adventurous soul and I was born for living!

     Last week, my daddy had the week off so we went on quite a few adventures. Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I absolutely LOVE water. Four out of our five days last week were spent near water!!! On Tuesday my family and I traveled Bush Kill Falls, the Niagra of Pennsylvania! My dad had picked the place out for the day and after three and a half hours of driving, singing at the top of our lungs the whole way, and almost dying by getting hit by a giant 18 wheeler truck, we made it. The place seemed to be situated all the way near the Poconos mountains, which I love, and had the feel of a national park to it! I had my charged up camera ready to go for the beautiful heights. There are four trails one can choose from and before we even knew that, my dad told all of us girls that we were taking the Red Trail. We get started on the Red Trail and eventually we see a sign saying, "This trail is only for the most experienced hikers. It is a natural trail built of rocky terrain. Please use caution." Oh great! I knew one thing, however, I was excited. I never really considered myself athletic but after doing the Red Trail twice and almost a third time, and hiking just over four miles on what was basically all rocks, I did. I always thought sporty girls were the ones who ran every day or played hard core team sports and even though I consider ice skating a sport, I never really considered myself athletic. However, when I realized how intense real hiking and kayaking was, I realized I have an athletic side to me and I always have. This newly unleashed athletic side of me, paired up with my adventurous soul was sure in her happy place in Bush Kill. Especially when the signs at the entrance of the park said not to stray from the trails or go swimming. I will be honest and tell you it was one of the hottest days of our week. I had worn shorts, my sneaks, two layering tank tops and a button down. That button down came off real quick because of the heat. I broke out in a nice sweat not too soon after either. So, the heat made me forget about the rules and I decided to climb some waterfalls. I mean, how often does a girl get a chance to climb a water fall? Not very often. So, as I left my backpack and my camera with my family, I went off to climb. I couldn't resist the coolness of the water and so, I dipped my head under the running falls and somehow managed to keep my shoes dry. Everything else, however, was soaked. My dad definitely thought I was crazy, but my middle sister, Mary, decided to join me on one of the falls. I guess crazy adventurous attitudes run in the family. At the end of that day, I felt so inspired by God's goodness and graces!! 

      About two summers ago, just my dad and I went kayaking on the Delaware River and we both decided that in the near future we were going to have to invest in some kayaks. That new future never came around, but ever since then we've been itching to get back in the water. So, Thursday, we took my two little sisters with us to go kayaking!! It was probably the best four hours I've ever spent on a creek. I taught my partner in crime how to row and finally, after two hours of me doing it myself, she got the hang of it. I think we both thoroughly enjoyed the bonding experiences that came with getting stuck in sand, mud and stones, as well as swimming in the cedar creek and almost capsizing our kayak at least three times. There were no cell phones, cameras, yes, but no interruptions to our day in nature. It felt glorious. 

      In my reflection about my week, I can easily feel the same emotions I felt then, once again. The beauty of the water and the nature and the glory of God was astonishing. I wanted to hold my breath and make it all stop. I felt the immense love of God within the peace that came with my adventuring. I believe God gave me this adventurous soul because it means I'm willing to take risks. Giving my life to God is a giant risk and yet, He know I'd be willing because of all the risk-taking I've already done in my normal life. As I was climbing the waterfalls and swimming along side the kayak in the red creek, I couldn't help but think of how much adventure I am going to have in religious life. Not only the adventure in prayer and community life, but in doing things just as I did this past week with my family. And so, I pray for my future directresses that they are able to handle my adventurous soul, my gypsy heart and my fun smile, because I was born for living and I plan on doing it as if everyday was my last. Oh my poor, poor future directresses. I hope they can handle this.  

Climbing Water Falls with my Sister

Climbing Water Falls with myself

Kayaking on the most beautiful day

God's Got This - A Reflection on Strength

"For when I am weak, then I am made strong."

- 1 Cor. 12:10

"A vocation is a gift. If it has truly been given to you, you will find the strength."

- Rumer Godden, In This House of Brede

     Most Sundays, you can find me, either by myself or with my gaggle of little ones, with a thick, black book open in my lap. When I'm alone, I read in silence. When I'm with the little ones, they read aloud with me. We are praying the Liturgy of the Hours together. This morning, you would have found me, alone in my pew, with a thick book in my lap. However, it was not my Divine Office book. Yes, I'll admit it, I was reading a novel: In This House of Brede. You see, I simply can't put it down and it's not the first time. 

     I read the book for the first time in High School and loved it so much, I read it again. Now, for the third time, I'm reading it once more. I always love re-reading books, especially when I know I've underlined so many words. And so, as I was reading this morning in Mass, I came across a very boldly underlined sentence (see above). As I turned the page, the cantor announced the opening hymn and I had to close my book. 

     I was quietly reflecting on the sentence I needed so obviously when I first read it during the Mass Readings. Suddenly, I realized the first letter from Corinthians was saying, "For the sake of Christ..." and then the above quotation. So, during Communion, I began to reflect on what strength really is. I went back to a few letters I had written yesterday and then even further back to the night I just spent crying (complete vulnerability) in sister's arms and once more back to when one of my dearest sisters said to me, "No matter where you go, you must promise to follow where God leads you. No matter where you go, I will never love you less." Those were all memories of strength in my greatest moments of weakness. That's when I came to this conclusion:

     In all my moments when I felt the strongest, I had only minutes before suffered from intense weakness. I realized that in giving in to the weakness, I was being made strong. See the truth is, we don't like the feeling of weakness, so we try and try and try to remain strong. But the longer we try to be strong when we are really weak, we actually get weaker. It is when we finally let go of our pride and let ourselves become weak, that God fills us with the strong. You see, in my tears and heartache, I was so weak, and when I finally let go of my pride of holding back tears and trying to be strong, when I let the tears flow with someone I trust, I was filled with such strength. 

    So, when you find yourself feeling so weak. Let go of it all, and let yourself simply be weak. Like when as a little girl, and you were so tired, that the moment your Daddy picked you up, you fell weakly asleep in his arms. Let yourself fall weakly into Jesus' arms, for that is why His arms are open on the cross, so you can go to His loving arms. You will find that when you surrender to your weakness, God will fill you with such strength. And I can trust that if my vocation is truly a gift for me, I will find the strength over and over again, just as I have already!

    

What's In A Name? - Convent Nicknames

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet?"

- Juliet Capulet, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

     If you've been following my blog, you know at least one thing about me: I LOVE LITERATURE! And I love applying it to my daily life. So, "What's in a name, that which we call Becca by any other name, she'd still be as sweet?" Yep.

     Last night I was talking to one of my best friends about Shakespeare and Nuns. I completely out-nerded myself with the Shakespeare part.You see, her school is putting on The Tempest and right away I started quoting Shakespeare just to drive her crazy. Sorry, I really can't help myself when it comes to him; he's just so wonderful. Eventually I quoted the above quotation from Romeo and Juliet (one of my absolute FAVORITE lines of literature ever) and realized how applicable it has become in my life recently. Of course, I began to tell her about all the names the sisters have for me and then proclaiming that I hope I'm as cute as they are when I grow up and become a nun. I believe the actual wording was: "I hope I'm as preshfest as they are when I grow up and become a nun."

     So, what are my nicknames you ask? Well, there's quite a few of them. In alphabetical order, they are: AE, Baby G, Becca Boo, Little Sis, Sister, Smiles and Sunflower among many more. AE - Alter Ego. Ironically, I share so many personality traits with one of my closest sisters that we have become interchangeable at times. We tend to be able to finish each other's creative thoughts and most definitely thrive off each other's creativity. When you put us together, it's a true tag team. So, she is my alter ego and thus, I am hers. 

     Baby G, which is kind of one I made up for myself as a joke but has kind of stuck. I have many "mom" figures among the sisters. They are always looking out for me, making sure I'm doing ok, being main means of support, and thus, jokingly they call me the baby, the child or Baby G. It works. 

     Becca Boo, which is a name surfaced from my past, has begun to stick again! And I can't complain! It sort of just rolls off the tongue as a cute little name. Try it: Becca Boo! Sometimes, it's shortened to just boo. Dear God, I actually hope that sister doesn't call me Sister Boo someday...the poor kids might get scared! But anyway, Becca Boo, or just Boo, it's a name only one specific sister calls me and it's pretty precious. She shares her ice cream with me!

     Little Sis and Sister. This is a name that has been adopted by so many sisters. I've discerned for so long that in some convents, it's like I'm more or less already part of the family minus the habit and years of experience. Whenever I'm with these sisters and we are meeting new people or they casually just want to boast about me, they refer to me as their little sister, their sister or their sister to be. Sometimes when we are just hanging around, they'll just call me Sis like this: "Hey Little Sis, want to go for a walk?" I'm definitely part of their family!

      Smiles. This one is a new one, but it makes sense. The other day I was skyping with one of the sisters to make lunch plans. Simply being able to talk with her made me so happy, but her and I share a special bond. Way back when I first started discerning, at my first high school discernment retreat, she and I were paired up to be one on ones for the week meaning that every day, after Mass, we would get to spend an hour together just chatting away. What the sisters who paired us up realized after they did so was that they put the Sisters' best extrovert and the retreat's best extrovert together and there would be no such thing as an hour limitation. She makes me laugh, makes me smile, and almost always knows when I need a lunch date. As we were chatting, I couldn't stop smiling and laughing so she decided she was going to call me Smiles. I kind of like it!

      Finally, Sunflower. Did you know, "Whenever you see a sunflower, you are sure to smile!"? It's true. That's why my dear sister began calling me her sunflower! Because every time she sees me, she is sure to smile. Although we've only known each other a little over a year, she is my sunflower and onion sister! She calls me Sunflower for the self-explanatory reasons: I am the cause of her joy and smiles!

    And so, friends, there you have it: no matter what nickname the sisters call me, each providing a light on my personality, I'm still Becca. Dear, old, same, old Becca!! I'm still me! And I still hope that I'm as precious as they all are when I'm a grow up nun!

How To Survive Convent Life - Lesson #3

"In order for one to survive convent life, one must be willing to sacrifice all one holds dear and play basketball in a skirt."

- Lesson #3

    There is something about opening the door to a place one has called home for years. No matter how long one has been away or how far or even how great the time away was, the warm homecoming feeling is simply overwhelming for both the heart and soul. The feeling I speak about is so freshly imprinted on my heart as I experienced it on Saturday when I visited one of my favorite convents that I had certainly been away from for a while. Let me tell you, however, that this was no ordinary visit.

     A typical visit at this particular convent usually consists of bonding in the community room either by conversation, working on a puzzle or watching a movie. However, on nice days, walks are enjoyed by the lovely view of the ... highway. Yes, and then most times I'm invited to elongate my stay by staying for dinner because the sisters simply do not want me to leave. Whether I'm visiting after morning Mass or for the night, there is always a meal (probably why I love the discernment during a meal). This visit, in the terms of food, was like all the others.

      I was invited during my CREW week, to come over the following Saturday to celebrate a birthday. One of the many things I've noticed in my years of discernment is that the sisters certainly know how to celebrate. So, when I walked in to find the whole kitchen decorated with birthday decor, I was not surprised. I shall three sisters in the kitchen: one watching the stove, one laughing and smiling and one chasing the flies with a fly-swatter. Besides myself in the room, there was one other person: a little boy, who's name was Michael, with the biggest and brightest smile I had ever seen and the best laugh. He was watching fly-swatter sister with the utmost joy. I found myself watching in my quiet way and smiling at all the interaction. I wanted to freeze the moment of joy forever. 

      Within minutes, we were all sitting around the table in the kitchen, with the addition of one other sister (my high school principal), eating the delicious meal prepared by the sisters with the recipe of the little boy's grandmother. "Finally," he said, "my birthday celebration in the convent." With much patience, he had waited three years to have his birthday celebration in the convent. Since he was "finally a teenager," the celebration could happen. Together we dined, we shared stories and we laughed; really, truly laughed. At the end of the meal, like a family does, each of us took our places either by the sink washing or drying, or around the kitchen, putting things away; the little boy included. 

       One of his birthday wishes of the day was to play basketball with the sisters. So, the younger sisters and I myself, began heading out the door to the school gym. However, as it very often happens, I was snagged by my dear high school principal just for a chat. I promised to join the fun as soon as we finished our conversation. That conversation really did change so many perspectives I had of the dear sister. Despite her being my principal for four years, I was never really gifted with the chance to sit and chat with her as if we were old friends. That night I had that opportunity. Now, if this blog post was about that chat, I'd spend more time on it. But, this is a post about birthday parties. So, I quickly hurried over to the gym to play basketball. 

        When I first started discerning religious life, I made the decision that I would do every possible thing in my habit. Playing basketball, while not originally on the list, is now. I had almost forgot I was wearing a dress as I chased the boy and Sister around the gym bouncing the basketball and shooting. I was never much of a good athlete in my younger days, and I wouldn't consider myself one now, but at least I can move in a skirt. Yes, we played and played and played for at least an hour before Sister and I were finally worn out. Our dear boy, however, had so much more energy than both of us combined. So, instead of playing more basketball, he decided we could put on a talent show. 

         While we were shooting hoops, my body embraced the giant, open, floor and pretty much began dancing on its own. While never having taken more than a year of ballet, I remember so much and whenever I get a wide open space, I make use of it. Between hoops, I would spin and jump across the gym. Unbeknownst to me, Michael had seen me dancing and asked me to teach him how to dance for our talent show. So, I showed him some basic cha-cha steps alone, and then showed him how to dance it as a pair. Within minutes, he grasped the concept so well and was ready to perform. 

         After we performed our cha-cha for our audience of one, he asked me if I knew how to sing. I couldn't lie, so I answered yes. I was shocked when he asked me to sing for him. For those who know me, and for those who don't, my voice is my deepest prayer. I love to sing, and yet, I'm very shy about singing for others. Even for Michael, I was being extremely shy. But it was his birthday, and he had been extremely precious all day. So, I did. I got up on the stage that overlooked the gym and sang our favorite Christmas song, "O Holy Night." As I sang, I closed my eyes, floating into my own world surrounded by music, peace and prayer. When I finished, immediately he burst into applause and that's when Sister came over to tell me he told her I gave him goosebumps while singing. He couldn't wait for me to sing another song. So, I sang the Ave Maria for him. 

      By the end of our talent show, it was time to head back to the convent for cake and ice cream, where he then asked me to sing again for the sisters who weren't playing basketball with us. After having done so, one of the sisters put her arm around me and just smiled. No one really knows I have this huge voice held deep inside this little person. When cake and ice cream was over, it was time to take Michael home to his house around the corner. He couldn't stop talking about how he wanted me to sing for his parents, too. And of course, I did. This time, he recorded me singing so he could remember my song forever. 

      Now, I know you are probably wondering, what 13 year old would want to celebrate his birthday at the convent with nuns? Or play basketball with them? Or get goosebumps when I sang? Or remember my song forever? You see, Michael, isn't like most 13 year olds. Doctors have placed Michael somewhere on the autistic spectrum and he goes to a special part of his school for his learning disabilities. However, you really wouldn't notice this right away. He is a genius with a phenomenal vocabulary for a 13 year old. It's the little things about Michael, the things I love, that make him who he is. 

      At the end of the night, Michael had given me such peace. He had brought such joy to my heart and given me self-acceptance. Not only that, but little does he know, he became convent life lesson #3. He showed me that I might just have to play basketball in a skirt with my students. He also showed me that I have to sacrifice and share those things that are so dear to me. By the end of the night, my fears of sharing my voice were gone and I could have easily shared with the whole neighborhood. He showed me by his own special talents and gifts, not to hide my own because they could bring so many others joy, happiness and goosebumps. Happy 13th Birthday, Michael. Thanks for letting me spend the special day with you!! And here's to many more adventures with you, my new friend!

Are You Willing to Ride The Coaster With Me?

"I always feel like I'm on a roller coaster, but I never want to get off. There's a certain high you're always on."

- Leonardo DiCaprio

     Many of you have heard the metaphor, "Life is a roller coaster," or, "I've been on an emotional roller coaster." As a young kid, I always loved roller coasters. I loved the thrill of buckling in and of speeding up the initial slope and going at super fast speeds. As I got older, I ventured to those upside-down coasters and eventually, even the ones that go backwards at high speeds. I absolutely loved roller coasters and I still do. There is something so thrilling about going at high speeds over bumps and through twists and turns, upside-down and backwards. Most of the time, I could easily throw my hands up in the air and let go freely, knowing that I was strapped in for the ride. The feeling of flying through the air, with the wind in my hair and my wings spread was amazing. However, there were some roller coasters as a kid that sometimes I would have to hold onto because I didn't weigh enough to be held down or I was scared and reached out to hold the hand of one next to me. 

      My love of roller coasters can easily be adapted to my discernment. Discernment of any kind is an emotional and spiritual roller coaster, especially when applied to my discernment of religious life. There are so many instances where I might feel overjoyed and then spiritually neglected. There are days when I can only smile beamingly because of how aware of God I am or days when all I want to do is cry. There are days when I feel like I am so ready for this life and days when I just want to give up. Yes, it is very obviously a roller coaster ride for me. For some, discernment is a straight and easy ride, but because God knows how much I love roller coasters, He is sure taking me on the ride of my life. You see, many people don't like the emotional roller coasters and yet, I am at peace with the roller coaster of my life. 

      Now, aside from my love of roller coasters, there is something else we must think about: who is on this roller coaster with me? Some people truly dislike roller coasters or they cannot ride the coaster but while they won't/can't ride with me, they'll be waiting at the end of the ride or cheering me on from the queue or taking my picture as I ride. Some people love roller coasters just as much as I do and are more than willing to the ride the coaster with me. These are the people who are willing to put their hands up right next to me, or hang on for dear life when life gets scary. Finally, there are the people who will ride with me but with hesitation. They are more scared to ride the coaster than I am. You see, I can't force people to ride the emotional roller coaster of my discernment, but I can invite my family and friends to ride. Some may ride and some may "sit this one out." Either is ok. It's comforting to know that there are some willing to ride and others willing to cheer me on. Regardless of who is with me, I am at peace knowing that my discernment will not be an easy and smooth ride; it will certainly be a roller coaster of the most extreme. Are you willing to ride with me?