Seeing The Face of God and Being Dazzled

"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will shine."

- Les Misérables, Victor Hugo

  Ever since I was little, I've loved music. I can vividly remember swinging on the swings in my backyard, singing loud and clear. I would sing anything from church music, to songs I made up about Jesus, to even songs from the radio. I was always singing. Sometimes my Dad tells people I was born singing, which sometimes I wouldn't necessarily doubt. I simply love music and I love singing. I went through times in my life where I taught myself violin, piano and even some guitar. I just never continued with it! It happens. Anyway, because I love music, I have always love the musical theater. My favorite musical of all time is Les Misérables. 

   I believe I was a Sophomore in High School when I traveled into the city to see it with my cousins at the Walnut Street Theater. I was such a baby back then, now that I think of it. In fact, my dad even dropped us off. He is such a gem! My cousin, Kiersten, and I met our twin cousins, Timmy and Tommy, and our Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maureen at the theater and embarked upon one of my greatest theater experiences (up there on the list includes How I Learned To Drive with Sister Marcille last Spring). 

    I remember being up in the loft of the theater and being at the edge of my seat the entire time! I had no idea what Les Mis was about and neither did my aunt. While she and I were hyperventilating at the suggestive parts of the show, my other cousins were eternally enjoying it. When I finally realized that this was a pretty accurate depiction of the life of the suffering French, I cried. It really was so painful to watch all the suffering and pain on the stage. But more so to hear it in the voices of the actors and actresses. The music just fulfilled my heart and soul more than any other music had before. After bawling my eyes out at the end of the show (and most of the show, for that matter) when Fantine came back to accompany Jean Valjean to heaven and they sang the best line of the show, "To love another person is to see the face of God," I went home and immediately downloaded every single song from the original London cast and listened to it for weeks on end. 

    Fast forward to a few summers ago, when one of my best friends, Melissa, played a nun in the Summer Theater Session at UPenn. I remember sitting in the audience with her parents and my best childhood friend, Mike, once again bawling my eyes out but this time singing along with the songs in my heart. So much emotion went through me as I watched the actors and actresses sing and dance across the stage and so much of me wished I could be there with them. But alas, it was something I was meant to see for once again. This time, the song "On My Own" sung by my favorite character, Eponine, touched my heart more than I could understand. I understood then how this best childhood friend, who was sitting right next to me, felt about me. And I thought, if only Marius knew how she felt...then I realized...if only I knew how Mike felt. I understood then.

     Fast forward once again to last night, when my friends almost literally dragged me out to the movie theater to see Les Mis. I had heard so many good things about the movie and it had won a few Golden Globes, so I was excited to see this movie. Every one from professors to my friends to the sisters were raving about this movie and I couldn't wait to make my own critique. I made myself comfortable as possible in the movie theater seats and settled in for a two and half hour movie. 

     As I watched, part of me winced as the camera zoomed in on the mouths of the vocalists in the movie. However, I also covered my eyes when the pain of the actors got too visual for me. I listened to the songs and remembered how much emotion they had once instilled in me. I went back and forth between loving the movie and hating it. I had to remind myself that, "Even if the beginning is not strong enough, the ending is what the audience remembers." It was something that my music teacher always told me. And so even though, I didn't like the beginning of the movie, I let myself watch til the end before making a final judgment. Are you ready for it?

     For the visual effects, I thought it was over the top wonderful! I understood a bit more about the reality of what the people went through. Hollywood can really do that for a movie. It gave 19th century France a picture and a reality that the stage productions could never really give. I mean, if a stage production EVER was able to do the opening seen like it was done in the movies, I would be shocked. What I didn't like about the movie was the music. I can't help it, but after listening to so much musical theater for so many years, I have an ear for critique. At times, I couldn't get over the strange vibratos (when the voice vibrates) and the talking through the music (like when some of the lines usually sung were spoken). One thing that the stage production really does for the audience, is give a HUGE emphasis on the music. In stage productions of any musical, actors are chosen based on their musical ability and then their acting ability. While I loved the cast of the film version, it was hard to listen to them singing. But that's just the musician in me. 

     Regardless of me not loving the music, I wish everyone could see this movie. Of course, after the movie, I texted my dad and told him that eventually in our lifetimes, I am taking him to see the stage production. But for visual people, or movie people, or people who don't like theater, this movie is great. (I think the hardest obstacle for me was that I've seen it on stage so many times). What Victor Hugo did for the reader, what Claude-Michel Schönberg did for the listener, and what Tom Hooper did for the viewer was instill in the people a love for something they might not initially be aware of. Les Mis touches on so many social justice issues but it also can be a HUGE metaphor for our Catholic Faith. It talks about things as deep as abuse against prisoners to simply lying to another. It emphasizes the sacrifice for others and also gives an example of forgiveness. Of course, the line everyone loves is "to love another person is to see the face of God." And how true it is!

     Of course, within the book, there are so many lines that shake my soul! Some of my favorites, "Those who do not weep, do not see;" "Life's great happiness is to be convinced we are loved;" "Love is the foolishness of man and the wisdom of God;" and finally, "Let us sacrifice one day to gain perhaps a whole life." I know a good author when almost every word shakes my soul and makes me gasp when I understand it's truth. The same goes for a composer! Because every single song in Les Mis shakes my heart and soul, making a spirit awaken in me that just wants justice. I truly believe that perhaps our whole country needs to see and UNDERSTAND what Les Mis is about. It is not only a political move, but a move of what goes even deeper. It starts with love.

     If you have seen the movie or the stage production, you know that Jean Valjean makes a change in his life. He says that he once hated all men but when he started love, that was when the change was made. He hated and it was obvious when he was released from prison and when he stole the silver from the Priest. But when the Priest showed him love AND forgiveness, he realized what life is all about. That is why, at the end of his life, he says over and over and over, "to love another person is to see the face of God." If we truly loved all those around us, we would see a strange familiarity within each of them. Whether it is a fellow student or co-worker that we cannot seem to get along with, or it's a child in the classroom who drives us nuts, or maybe a family member or if we go deeper to say the poor, the homeless, the outcast, they have something so familiar in their souls. When we truly love them, we would see their souls and what we would see when we saw the souls is that their soul is just like our soul, made in the image and likeness of God. God abides in their souls just as He abides in ours. If we truly loved one another, we would see that, we would truly see the face of GOD! 

    And so my friends, perhaps this is why I love Les Mis: because it instills and awakens in me such a deep desire to love. We were made to love and be loved, I truly believe this, and Les Mis shows us what could happen if we truly followed that basic mission given to us from God, Himself. What if we truly did just love one another. All of Les Mis is a lesson from God and like Victor Hugo wrote about Jean Valjean, "He did not study God; He was dazzled by Him," I, too, am dazzled by God's goodness in my life. He has taught me love through something I love so much, Words and Music. Now who else can do something as awesome as that?!

The Nuns Caught a Case of the Mommies

"A good mother is irreplaceable."

- Adriana Trigiani

     A good mother is irreplaceable and I have an inexhaustible number of good mothers including my own mother. I know this because every time I get a case of the cold, flu, sniffles or insane coughing, the nuns get a case of "The Mommies." It all started Friday night, when my congestion began...as soon as I finished work and headed around the bend (which is a long, dark, scary hallway through the kitchen mind you...that apparently only the real deals can handle) to Formation, I was met with two of my close nunny mommies, Sister Eileen and Sister Mary, both of whom advised me to go to bed early after they asked me if I went through the multiple step pre-caution system at the Fortress Portress which really just included me de-germing everything before and after work with Clorox wipes. As I got sicker and more congested through the week, I was getting various Mommy Sick Tips. Last night, which was the peak of my illness so far, I had a nasty cough, I used most of the tissues in the Portress Office and definitely was losing my voice. Not only did multiple sisters advise me to drink my fluids, but many also were telling me just to sleep, rest and not go crazy (like normal). Sister Honora, who is also sick, came in from work while the sisters were at prayers and we just sat together feeling the breeze come through both the open windows. Needless to say, I was having a bit of a hot flash probably from a friendly fever. Later that night, Sister Cathy said she knew I was on portress because she heard me coughing before she even came through the door...oops. It seems I have so many loving and comforting mothers, not just when I am sick but also at many other times during the year. When I am away from home and I need a mother, one of the sisters always steps up to the plate. I am blessed. 

    Since it is National Vocations Awareness Week, I figured I would take my many mothers as an example of the vocation of Spiritual Motherhood. I tell my cousin that when I am a sister, I will have more kids than physically possible. Of course, that sounds so strange at first. Nuns usually aren't mothers at first sight, you see. They do not have biological children of their own, this is very true, but they have blessed so many children with the gift of having a Mother. I see myself as a teacher but I know, too, that somewhere along the line I will be working with younger children. Both as a teacher and a caretaker, I will be a mother, like the sisters are for me, to my students. Some may not have real-life mothers for various reasons, but many of my students, especially the younger ones will need a motherly figure while at school. 

     One of the greatest examples of Spiritual Motherhood I have ever seen is my dear friend, Sister Jean. Every morning when I drop my little Lizzie off when I am home, Sister Jean not only has a smile and hug for Lizzie but also for me. She is more than willing to converse with me for a half an hour while at the same time greeting every child by name as they walk through the door in the morning. I have known her to do this for as long as I have known her, which is two years. However, on the last day home for me, I was dropping Lizzie off at school when I saw Sister Jean walk up to the car in front of me. She not only opened the door for the boys, but she picked up the youngest's backpack, slung it on her shoulder, and then picked up the little Pre-Kindergartner, because he was still too little to jump out of the big SUV like his older brother. She then placed his feet on the ground and held his hand as they walked together to the front door of the school where she gave him his backpack and led him inside. She simply gave a whole new meaning to Spiritual Motherhood for me. 

     Now there are a few sisters who I have told many times that they have been such a mother to me. One of those sisters is Sister David, who took me under wing when I was baby Freshmen in High School. I had her as a teacher for the last period of the day, and often when I was feeling under the weather, she would send me home with her Mommy Sick Tips of drinking tea with honey and sleeping in the next morning. She sometimes would even encourage me to take a day off just to catch up my immune system. When I was having a rotten day and just wanted to cry, I would sometimes go to Chapel which I knew to be my prayer space. She would just know, like a mother always does, and would casually slip into the pew next to me and pray with me. And if I needed them, she always had tissues for me in her pocket. Of course, she was never without a hug or a shoulder to cry on. 

     I once had the following conversation with one of my high school English professor, Dr. Roche, a year after I graduated. It was a known fact among many of my friends then that I was discerning religious life, but most of the professors were out of the loop. However, many had their speculations and often they would casually bring it up in conversation. The conversation went like this: "Becca, I think you would make such a good mother. You are so caring and loving and you would sacrifice anything in the world for your children just like you do your friends." "That's so sweet, Dr. Roche, but..." "Oh I know, and because I know you'd make a good mother, you'll make a great sister. Because in order to be a sister, you must first possess the gifts of a mother. You'll be wonderful." 

     I had never truly thought about that, but in all honesty he was right. All of the sisters I have known, have that motherly twinkle in the eye. Whether it was a gentle smile on the day of my hardest exam, or a hug on one of my rough days, or even a tissue from their habit pocket on a day when I was struggling with the sniffle, they had it. And each sister possessed a different motherly twinkle because no two sisters are identically alike. Now some sisters may say they became a sister because they would never have been able to handle children of their own, but in the end those have been some of the sisters that were the most motherly toward me in their own way. They may not have a hug, but they gave me the friendship of a mother to her daughter, which then transpired to a sister to a sister. 

     Sisters answer a calling to love in all forms, love for children, love for families, love for the sick, love for the uneducated, love for the poor, love for all people. They are called to sacrifice a biological family to make the world their family and thus become mothers to the people of world. And while I know that sacrifice is a difficult one and often I battle with it, thinking about how much I would love to hold my own baby in my arms, I know that God may be calling me to be a mother to many babies who have no mother at all through my vocation as a religious sister. The stories God has planned for me are a beautiful piece of literature. 

And now for a little song that I love to dedicate to my own mother:

This Ain't Goodbye

"This ain't goodbye, this is just where the love goes. 

This ain't goodbye, it's not where our story ends.

This ain't goodbye, as long as we got time,

this ain't goodbye."

- "This Ain't Goodbye," Train

    In the past week and a half, I've seen a lot of good-byes. I've not only moved back to school for a new semester, but I've also seen off the IHM Novice (and one of my close friends) and I've sent my parting blessings on my AE. If you know me, you know I just don't do good-byes well. Usually, I am a  crying, blubbering, red-eyes, snotty nose, hot mess when it comes to good-byes. Ok, so I know that's gross...but still, it's the blatant, honest truth. In addition to the hot mess, however, I also try very hard to occupy myself with something silly so as not to dwell on the nearing departure. When my final good-bye with my AE was coming, we both let ourselves watch a good two hours of The Peanuts while avoiding the real good-bye. When it was nearing the hour I was meant to leave home to go back to school, I busied myself with making a 12 inch clay model of a leech for my sister's bio project. And when it came time to send off Sister Melissa, we all occupied ourselves with washing dishes until the last possible moment when we all ran down the hallway to wave good-bye. Yeah, I find creative ways to avoid saying good-byes.

     On my last day home, I visited my high school just to give those final good-byes to the sisters. Later that day, I found myself visiting Saint Katherine's to say good-bye to the sisters there. When I was hugging Sister Daniella good-bye, I couldn't help but hang on for an extra long hug. I realized that every time I go back to school, she is one of the last people I see. And no matter what, she is somehow always prepared for some tears. She knows me. Already that day, there were so many good-byes. Later that night, after quite the adventure of leaving keys at home and losing wallets and impromptu visits to grandma's house, I had to say a final good-bye to my Daddy and my little Lizzie. I'll be honest, even after doing this five times before, it gets harder to say good-bye every time and I did shed quite a few tears that night after they left. It's always hard coming back to school, even though I love it so much, because for a few weeks, the schedules are upset and my sisters and I get used to morning Wawa runs and midnight snuggling while watching Disney movies on a school night. It gets harder every time because I get used to food fights in the kitchen with my Daddy and shopping for my Mom. It gets harder every time because I get used to my Frankie knocking me down every time I walk through the front door or my Marina pawing my leg to wake me up in the morning. It gets harder because I just hate good-byes.

     This weekend, I was blessed to be part of the send-off for Sister Melissa. And even though I was super excited for her and somewhat jealous because she would now be living down the hall from Sister Bern, deep in my heart I was sad. I wouldn't see her every so often over at the college nor would I see her late at night in the portress office. And I knew it was hard for her to once again leave a place so familiar to embrace the unknown. As she went around giving us each a hug, there were smiles and tears. I had just previously occupied myself with washing the dishes and really didn't want to think of the reality of her moving away. So I didn't cry then, but later I carried the pain of distance in my heart.

     Tonight, while at Mass, I couldn't get the song, "This Ain't Goodbye" by Train out of my head. So many times before in my life, this song has been key in my emotions. I realized very quickly that all of these good-byes aren't really good-byes. They are more of a "see you later." I will see my AE in a few weekends, when I go and visit her in Chicago. I will see my siblings and family members soon enough too, when I go home for a restocking of shelves...and I will see Sister Melissa well, when she comes back! They were momentary good-byes, but not eternal good-byes. 

     All these good-byes got me thinking about the one other good-bye we all made this past weekend and that was the good-bye to the Christmas Season. Father Chris touched a tad bit on this during his homily tonight and so I simply just have to share. You see, today is the Baptism of Jesus. This day, while coinciding with Father Gillets 200th birthday, marks the anniversary of Jesus' public ministry. It is true that during the Christmas Season, Mass attendance sky-rockets and then once it's over, the pews are just as empty as they were at Thanksgiving. Even in Jesus' real life, once His public ministry began, so many said, "Good-bye, Jesus." It is not ironic that during Mass this song was replaying over and over in my head (during my moments of hot flashes, coughing fits and nose blowing as I have not avoided the common cold....). We cannot make the end of the Christmas Season a good-bye. Because the truth is, just like how it is when Sister Michele, Sister Melissa and my sisters, this isn't where the story ends; we have time. So, this ain't good-bye. We can't let it be a good-bye, we must keep at it! We must keep loving! And when we don't say good-bye, there's no knowing how God might surprise us next! So remember, this ain't good-bye.

Angels Among Us: A Summary

"I believe there are angels among us,

Sent down to us from somewhere up above.

They come to you and me in our darkest hours

to show us how to live, to teach us how to give

and to guide us with the light of love."

- "Angels Among Us," Alabama

The Smiles Say It All

     I had finally gotten a power tool in my hands when all of a sudden (it seemed) it was time to head on out for the day. While I was teaching my RA, Caiti, how to use a power screw driver to screw screws into what would eventually be a dog house, the rest of our group was filling out evaluations; it was our last day on the worksite. I had spent most of the days mudding/spackling the walls of Miss Sande's living room, bedrooms, kitchen and closets. Trust me, it's tedious work. And actually, it's quite a pain in the butt...especially when they tell the short girl to mud/spackle the ceiling. I can't tell you how many times I dropped mud on my face, in my hair, on my clothing. I felt absolutely disgusting afterward and my body ached from reaching high and bending backwards to float, skim and doctor the ceilings and walls. However, as we sat as a group on Miss Sande's back porch filling out evaluations and listening to our site leaders, it all came together for me.

    I have never been on the NOLA January trip. In fact, I will honestly say, I like NOLA in the Summer better because of the weather. I'm not about this cold weather in the South nonsense. Going on this trip was completely out of my comfort zone because even though I knew everyone, I didn't know anyone. It was going to be a completely different trip than what I was used to: nights were longer, sun was weaker, schedule was crazier. Yet, I felt this strange whisper in my heart that kept saying, "Go, go, go, go back to the place you love so much." And so I applied and then got accepted. Ironically enough, a few weeks later, I got accepted for the Peru Service Trip which would most likely take place during the same time as the May NOLA trip. I understood that God understood my desire to go to NOLA at least once a year. However, even as I pulled up to the airport, I was questioning the reasons why God was sending me to NOLA at this time.

    I felt I was jipping my sisters of my Christmas Break time. I felt like I didn't belong with the people and friends in our Work Crew. I felt so out of my comfort zone. Yet, this is the life I so desire. I desire to be a missionary and leave home. I desire to work with strangers. I desire to go out of my comfort zone. But even still, I was doubting God working in my life through this trip. So, as I sat on the plane, I closed my eyes and prayed: God, keep my heart open to Your will. As I nodded off to sleep, God began opening my heart.

    As we visited the French Quarter, I saw monuments and attractions all so familiar. I almost had no desire to be there. Instead, I was wanting so badly to be in my work clothes and building. But, it was New Year's Eve and so, every worksite was closed for the day. So, we found ourselves doing to the same activities in the Quarter, that I had done two times prior. I shopped a little and continued to doubt God's work. 

   This doubt continued through Mass at St. Louis Cathedral, through priming a shotgun house in a pretty bad neighborhood, to building boxes at Second Harvest Food Bank, to serving the homeless and hungry dinner at the New Orleans Mission, to even mudding the walls and ceilings of Miss Sande's house. Why was I here? I kept thinking. I was seeing no change; no change in the people and no change in me. I found myself spending a lot of personal quiet time on the worksite, at our other volunteer opportunities and even while we were back at the house. I was seeking for an answer. At the end of the week, I had almost given up and I had stopped searching for a reason why I was there. And when I stopped searching, God gave me the reason.

    Go back to the image of us all sitting on Miss Sande's back porch. We had filled out the evaluations, we had listed our highs and lows of the week with our leaders Megan and Cait, and given out some thank you gifts to them as well. We had one final gift to give and that was to Miss Sande. It was a Mardi Gras Bead Art image of the Immaculata School Symbol which we had all signed. As we handed her the frame, she immediately began on a Miss Sande Story. 

      Throughout the week we had each heard various Miss Sande Stories and other mentions of her wisdom. We had each been able to piece together her story of suffering, rebirth and how she came to have her house a part of the St. Bernard Project. But this story was different than any other Miss Sande story; this story was about angels. 

      As she spoke, Miss Sande referred to all of us as her angels. She told us how without God's Angels coming to work on her house, her house would still be non-existent in the Post-Katrina era. She kept calling us her angels over and over and over again. And each time she did, the lump in my throat got bigger and bigger until finally, I let the tears roll down my cheeks. I got it. I understood. God sent me there to meet Miss Sande. Little does she know that she was an angel to me. She was God for me. 

     All my life, all I have ever wanted to do was help change lives. When I was younger I thought that there were so many people in our world that needed me. But as I got older, I realized, there are so many people in our world that I need. I needed Miss Sande more than she needed me. So what I put a little mud on her walls and helped build her six dogs an outdoor living space. Miss Sande helped me realize that the little bit I did, helped. Without the mud and spackle, no paint could go up. Yes that's true! 

     A few years ago, I stopped looking to change the whole world. I narrowed my goal down to change a few lives. But this week, I made a complete turn around. I started looking for people to change my life! Yes, I did help Miss Sande and yes, this past week I was an angel for her. But more than I was for her, she was for me. She was the angel I needed in my life. She reminded me that I don't need all the things in the world to be happy. She reminded me that my little hands could get roughed up and change a life. But mostly she reminded me that although I may doubt God's mission for me, He is always working through me...whether it's my hands, my heart or my smile. She reminded me of something that I so often neglect to believe in, something that I am always telling others but never telling myself: Miss Sande reminded me of my own goodness. She reminded me that I can actually be an angel. Miss Sande, in being an angel herself, reminded me of the same. And so, this NOLA trip, angels united. 

     I can't thank Miss Sande enough for breaking through to my heart...for being willing enough to risk that journey! She is a beautiful woman of God! Yes, there are angels among us! I am home now, but no matter where we are, there are angels among us.

Working With The Girls

"If you give a woman the right pair of shoes she can change the world."
- Millie Gaghan

So how's it been so far is the million dollar question. I've had text messages from friends, Facebook messages and posts and phone calls asking me how the big easy is! So let me tell you how it's been!
I now know what it's like to be hungry, homeless and cold! Home is wherever the people we love are and where we feel loved. And while NOLA has been such a home to me and I truly feel like I belong here, people are missing from my presence and this city! I am homeless from my family and friends!
I am hungry! Not a physical hunger, no my belly is full of gumbo and jambalaya and red beans and rice! Instead I am hungry to serve and love! Even though I am working so hard all day, it isn't enough for me! I need more! Like one of the sight supervisors said, service and giving love is the best kind of drug out there!
I am cold! I know at home, IU has has some snow and there is a cold front! However if I was at home, I'd be wearin a coat! Here it is about fifty degrees everyday! That would be fine except I didn't many warm clothes! I know what it is like to wear all the clothes in my possession just to stay warm! Last night to bed I wore both pairs of sweat pants , both pairs of shorts, both long sleeve shirts and both sweatshirts!! I slept with the hoods up and curled in a ball under one blanket with my teddy bear!! Needless to say I was a little chilly!!
However being hungry, homeless and cold is not my daily life! I have felt solidarity with these people for the past few days but I have not always had that life and most likely will not have that life for an extensive time in my future! However it really hit the heart when I realized that not only was Katharine Drexel here in this city but also Mother Teresa and Frances Cabrini!! These are seriously three of my favorite girls!! And even though they aren't here now I still am working and walking with them!!
When I checked Facebook the other morning to post some pictures, I saw the above quotation as Millie's status! Right away I had to comment: work boots! I would wear work boots!! I couldn't help but imagine Mama K or Mama Teresa or Cabrini wearing work boots under their habits!! Wouldn't that be a sight to see?! And what if they wore work pants under their skirts and bandanas over their veils? I decided that would be me...I'd work the boots with the skirt...and when my work boots get too dirty to wear inside I will just were socks to chapel like I did this morning!!
When I am down here I can't help but think of my girls, my sisters the saints working in the poor schools and building houses!! If they were here during this time they'd be nailing down floors and mudding walls after school on the week days!!! Yeah....me too!!!

A New Orleans New Year's Eve Resolution

"I'll be your sun, I'll shine on you. I'll make you happy, I'll smile to you." - Nouf Alfadl

This is the first New Year's Eve I am away from home. I have always rung in the new year with close family and friends in either Pennsylvania or our neighboring New Jersey. I have always heard my daddy's voice at midnight! This year is different; I'm not only in a different state but also time zone! I'm in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Staying up til midnight here is equivalent to staying up til one am at home! Needless to say I was exhausted come midnight. However watching the fireworks surrounded with my IU peers was nothing short of beautiful! I am so used to sharing hugs and kisses and phone calls at midnight but instead here we decorated our IU work crew shirts and watched out our windows over the seventh ward! We shared hugs but it was interesting for all of us!! As I watched I noticed how quiet it got! All of us momentarily fell into some sort of reflection mode. Well at least I know I did and here's why:
I always get nostalgic on New Year's Eve! I think about the past and the future! I smile and get scared, too. I always cry without a doubt on New Year's Eve. It's a thing I guess. But as I watched the fireworks, I couldn't help but think of two people: my grandmother Bea and the Air Force gentlemen we met in the French Quarter!
The Air Force man was just casually getting sno-balls with his family when we walked up next to him! Of course, because I am my fathers daughter, I started talking to him! We talked about everything from him growing up in NOLA to sno-ball flavored to the new year to him being in the Air Force! Suddenly I found myself thanking him for serving our country because I am a patriot through and through! But before I knew it, he was buying our sno-balls as a thank you for our service to his beloved city even after so many years after Hurricane Katrina! I almost cried.
My grandmother, Bea, who I describe as a fiesty Irish woman, was with me from the very beginning of this trip but especially at Mass last night! You see the reading was essentially the Irish Blessing! May The Lord shine his face on you always! I love that so much and I couldn't help but believe Bea's face was shining on me in this beautiful city! I also couldn't help but imagine her being here with me doing the same thing right next to me! Maybe she would have...maybe not! All I know is that I share Bea's spirit as so many have told me! They tell me I am just as likely to get arrested for the same reasons she did...I'll leave that to your imagination! But I know Bea would love this city as much as I do!!
As I thought of Bea and Mr. Air Force, my New Years resolution was confirmed! My goal for the year is to go out of my comfort zone and take more positive risks!! Bea and Mr. Air Force emulate both of those things!!! I couldn't have felt more blessed as I did at midnight last night during my reflection under the fireworks!! You see, I am all about spreading the love and in order to spread the love, I have to exit the comfort zone!! And in spreading the love I know I may be so vulnerable because the heart is human and because it is human it is fragile! But like father said at mass last night, the adventure of life is faith! Both Bea and Mr. Air Force emulated that as well!
And so for me this new year, I'll be allowing myself to be vulnerable upon exiting the comfort zone and loving! I know I am in for a huge adventure because of my faith! My The Lord bless you and keep you, my friends! Cheers to 2013!!!

We Are Family (Sing It!)

"See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God.

And so we are.

The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him.

Beloved, we are God's children now;

what we shall be has not yet been revealed."

- 1 John 3:1-2

Look closely....you'll see most of my family!

      Happy Feast Day!! Don't even try to deny it! It's your feast day whether you know it or not...you're part of a family, aren't you? You have a mom and a dad and maybe some siblings; grandparents, too. Whether it's big or small, you're part of a family. And because of that, it's your feast day! It's the feast of the Holy Family! And not only is it your feast day, it's also some of my favorite sisters' feast day. So, happy feast Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth!

      As some of you may know, I leave for New Orleans tomorrow (well, really today...) at 8:30 is our flight. And because of having to be at the airport at the crack of dawn, I had to catch the Vigil Mass tonight! And I am so glad I got a preview of the Scriptures. My heart was literally dancing in my chest! They were honestly just so good today! The funny thing is, as I sat in my pew listening to the Scriptures, my two (well, one really since the other had to Altar Serve) favorite church girlies, Meghan and Caleigh sat with my family simply giving spiritual emphasis that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ; we are all family. 

      And because we all are family, we are all children of the Father as the second reading eludes to. I am that girl that opens the Missalette to read along with the Lector. Even though one time someone once told me that I shouldn't read along because I am supposed to listen to the Word of God. I tried, I really did, but I pay much more attention when I read along with the words. Visual words mean a lot to me (I am an English Major, you know...) and when I can see them, I understand. So...I can't tell you what the First Reading was about since the Scripture that was read was the alternate option than what was in the book. But the Second Reading...that made my heart go crazy. Look at the truth lying between the lines (quotation above). Because of His love, we ARE children of God. However, we are told we aren't worth love or worth the title of child because the world does not know God. We have lost our child-ness. We are no longer called "children" because of the unawareness society has of God. If only they knew... We are told that regardless of what society tells us, WE ARE HIS CHILDREN. WE TRULY DO BELONG TO THE FATHER. And yet, what we are meant to be has not yet been revealed to us. Say what?!

      We are not meant for this life on earth. We are meant for eternity with God. But that life with Him hasn't yet been revealed to us. However, that line of Scripture gave a deeper consolation to my soul. If you've been reading my blog recently or have been around me physically, you might have been able to pick up on a bit of a struggle I am going through. I am battling with what does God really want me to do?!? Does He want me to be a Sister? If so, what kind of Sister? Or is He calling me to do missionary work throughout the world? OR is He calling me to date, marry and raise a family? While I had put it to rest a bit since being home, it suddenly all came rushing back as I sat, reading in Mass because "What we shall be has not yet been revealed to us." OHHHHHHHHHHH! OKAY! He has given me bits and pieces on my life journey and has whet my appetite, per se, of various life vocations but HE HAS NOT YET FULLY REVEALED WHAT I SHALL BE. I like that about Him, always mysterious. It's very becoming! For me, one who has accepted the child-ness, it was extremely consoling. For society, which continuously is taking away that child-ness, the revelation is even harder to wait for. Because we have lost that child-ness, we have lost belief that God will reveal to us our purpose, our destination, what we shall truly be. If we do not believe (or see as it is hidden by view by all sorts of things in society) in the Love of God, we lose the child-ness. When we lose the child-ness, we lose faith in God's revelation. 

      Speaking of lost children...did you realize that in the Gospel today, Mary and Joseph lost Jesus. The literally left Him in another city. LIKE HELLO?!? Okay, okay...new parents, I get it. They weren't used to having a child. But wait....Jesus was a few years older than just being born. Because they later found Him in His Father's house which He told His parents. Newborns don't speak, friends. It was a challenge for me when I was younger to separate the stories. Because we just had Christmas, I was convinced that the Lost Child happened a few days later just like it did with the readings. But then I realized that this was quite impossible for He did speak to His parents at the time. The more I thought about it, the more plausible the story became. 

      How often do we hear stories about Panic Attacks when it comes to children? I can easily remember a moment of panic in my own heart when my littlest sister, Lizzie, was merely one year old. We had been at the grade school on a Sunday preparing for the Spring Play. One second she is standing next to me, the next second I figure she ran down the hallway to see my mother. But when my mother came into the hall within minutes, Lizzie wasn't with her. WHERE WAS LIZZIE?! Suddenly, everyone was in panic mode. MUST.FIND.LIZZIE. Everyone was searching and calling her name. I was in tears. I had lost my sister. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was really only minutes, we found her, walking across the parking lot to the school with one of the moms. She was safe, hand in hand, strutting her stuff. Thank God. 

       Imagine the feeling in Mary's heart when she realized Jesus wasn't with them. It wasn't as if he was across the parking lot with the other families with whom they were traveling. No, He was actually in another city. He was miles away with no one to hold Him, feed Him, or protect Him. Anything could have happened to Him. Panic. Ultimate Panic. Finally, Mary and Joseph were on their way back to find Jesus. How did Mary not freak out when they found Jesus? How did she not reprimand Him for staying with the group or telling her where He was off to? How? Simply because He said, "Did you not know I would be in my Father's house." He probably added a cute little smile at the end, just like Lizzie did when she said, "Didn't you know I was with....?" In fact, Mary's relief was probably much greater than her anger or distraught at Jesus's disappearance. Mary was a true mother in the sense that the moment she could have pulled Jesus into her arms and held Him would have been greater than any moment in the world for her. We see the same scene when Jesus met His mother on the road to Calvary. A look, a tender look of love that understands. 

     Ironically enough, when I read the readings before Mass, I couldn't help but laugh at the Gospel. It was about losing a child. The night before (Friday) I had enjoyed a movie night with my CSFN Sisters. The faith sharing is always so beautifully deep with these girls and so unexpected, really. Each sister is so unique in her own way and that uniqueness certainly leads to interesting and beautiful conversation. However, we are a group of women, so one topic lead to another which lead to another which then lead to education and....losing children. I can't tell you how many "baby nun" stories I heard Friday night about losing children. And each story ended with, "Well...they were right were they were supposed to be when I finally found them." Of course, these children, unlike Jesus, were purposefully hiding from their teachers. How ironic that we were just talking about the emotions that tie into losing a child momentarily.

      We have each in some way connected with Mary and her feeling of panic. The Feast Day itself is a people's feast; the readings tell us that. We have each been a child at some point, so we know how it feels to me child-like. We must remain true to the child-ness of being a child of God. And most of us, ironically have felt the moments of panic and then relief with a child, whether a student, a sibling or a child of our own. Most of us are blessed to know and have a family who loves us. This is why we can celebrate this feast as our own. Isn't it such a beautiful day? 

      And I wouldn't have it any other way than to be traveling on this great feast, a feast I celebrate not only with my family in mind, but with my Sisters in mind as well. I know my Sisters prayers are with me this day as just about the time of take-off, they will be praying Morning Prayer. I'll be praying with them from the "comfort" of my plane seat. Later in the day, I'll be thinking about and praying with my own family as about the time I'll be landing, they might all be in Mass together. Of course, when I reach my NOLA family in my favorite city in the whole world (I've been to a lot of places, nothing beats NOLA), I'll be thanking God for my gift of family. That is, the gift of feeling one with any single person I come in contact with, because in truth he or she is my brother or sister. Happy Feast Day, Family!