Introductions

Here, at the end of my first week of postulancy, the four of us postulants made it up to the 3rd and 4th floor of the convent(St Rita's), the infirmary floors. I was not that excited about going, for as much as I am eager to meet all of the sisters, I can't shake my hesitance around illness and hospital-like settings.
I was wrong. I think I may have commented on this in an earlier blog but I have been asking to really just see the elderly with dignity and respect. After just a few minutes there with them, it was so easy! They are beautiful! They are vibrant and full of stories and welcome and laughter. And so eager to meet us. They have already been praying for us as postulants, choosing to take part in our new lives long before we were introduced into theirs. I am being inrtoduced into a new way of thinking.
As much as I am going to be stretched in the upcoming days and months, I am eager to see what else God has in store for me. It's going to be beautiful.

Hope for me yet...:)

St Therese is amazing and gives me such encouragement and hope! She totally speaks to my heart today. I am thanking God for the wisdom and inspiration of the saints!

" I have always wanted to become a saint. Unfortunately when I have compared myself with the saints, I have always found that there is the same difference between the saints and me as there is between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and a humble grain of sand trodden underfoot by passers-by. Instead of being discouraged, I told myself: God would not make me wish for something impossible and so, in spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint. It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults. But I will look for some means of going to heaven by a little way which is very short and very straight, a little way that is quite new.

" We live in an age of inventions. We need no longer climb laboriously up flights of stairs; in well-to-do houses there are lifts. And I was determined to find a lift to carry me to Jesus, for I was far too small to climb the steep stairs of perfection. So I sought in holy Scripture some idea of what this life I wanted would be, and I read these words: "Whosoever is a little one, come to me." It is your arms, Jesus, that are the lift to carry me to heaven. And so there is no need for me to grow up: I must stay little and become less and less." -- Therese of Lisieux

Hearts WERE meant to break!

I have always been afraid of tradgedy. Hidden from it, even. I have never been a risk taker. I never wanted to be friends with or married to someone in the military.:) I have been intimidated by elderly people and I really hate hospitals. I don't think I am much different than many people. We condition ourselves to seek the happy, the easy. We don't like to be faced with sadness, death, illness,the depressed, heartbreak... I looked up sayings about broken hearts. This is how we operate:
"Don't Cry Over Someone That Won't Cry Over You."
"Forget who hurt you yesterday."
"skinned knees are easier to fix then broken hearts."
"If someone you love breaks your heart, cry a river,build a bridge,and get over it.
"How can I love again when I can't stop loving the one that hurt me so much?"

Days ago, a dear friend suffered a heartbreaking tradgedy. This person is someone who has been so special to me for several years now. She has taught me faithfulness, honesty, strength, dignity, trust, everything it is to be a daughter of God. She has been my confidante and more of a sister than a mere friend. I have often pondered the connection we have, especially considering our timid beginnings, and have never fully been able to grasp the goodness of God in placing her in my life.
So, when she called me to tell me her news, I not only felt sad for her but grieved with her. I am still. I seem to be feeling many of the same emotions that I felt when my mom passed away. Confusion,heartbreak, dismay, and some anger. Instead of feeling like I am watching her go through this, I am right in the middle of it with her. And I can't understand why her? Someone who has been such an inspiration to me and deserves all the best life has to offer? And then I think that she is the perfect person. She is strong enough to weather this, brave enough to trust in God's plan, unfailing in her love of God. She is exactly who He would choose, of course.
In all of this, I am realizing that hearts ARE meant to break. As much as we like to think that we are strong and independant, we are built fragile. I think we are made to experience weakness and it is a good thing, a beautiful and holy thing! There is HOPE in weakness, beauty in the broken! We are closest to Christ when we are weak, humiliated, down to our last defense, broken. This is when He can truly reveal Himself to us. This is when He really gets to show us just how much He loves us, how strong He is, how much we really NEED Him, how faithful He is, and how patient!
None of this is new about God. He shows us His love in a million ways but what better time could there be than when you have nothing left and are in need of comfort, support, and love?

Just thinking...

Today, (now a few Sundays ago...) I sat in the the last pew in the back corner of the Church. I didn't feel like sitting in front where I usually sit. As I sat in that last pew, I started noticing all the stuff that goes on back there. People came and went as they pleased. Parents held full on conversations with their screaming children, played games with them, ate food with them. A grown man was reading and flipping through the pages of his misslet during the Consecration as though he would rather be anywhere else. A woman decided to clean out her purse. Teenagers wandered in late, clad in ripped up shorts and hole ridden t-shirts....
And as I let myself ponder all the goings on, my thoughts came to a screeching halt. What was I doing!? As I sat around judging everyone else, I realized I was just as distracted as they were! And I had purposely placed myself there! Here, at the front of the church, a literal miracle is happening and I am as far away as I could get, thinking about WHATEVER!
And then I got to thinking how many times I place myself in these situations where I get distracted from what God is really doing. No one made me sit at the back where I couldn't see or hear or concentrate. I made that choice to place myself where I couldn't see Him or listen to what He was saying. It gives me some perspective as I go off to work or to hang out with friends and am just at home. What are my distractions and how can I better place myself closer to the "front" where I can really listen and see? Hmmmm...just a thought....

Reservation for one?

Several days ago, I had a dream that I was interviewing with the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity. My interview was interrupted and placed on hold indefinitely. As I waited to complete this interview, I saw several other applicants being accepted left and right. I didn't know what was going on, why I wasn't invited. That seemed to be the theme of this dream. Invitation. And I wasn't getting one. No one seemed to have a good reason, just that I didn't fit. I was inadequate somehow. And so I waited. And waited... racking my brain and desperately trying to figure out the anomaly of my person. Then I woke up.
A week ago, I received my official transcripts from the University of Arkansas. They just so happened to be the last piece of my application to enter into postulancy with the sisters. I panicked. I had flown through the rest of the application, not giving myself time to overthink things as I usually do. One may wonder if I went to fast, didn't put enough thought into this process, didn't think about it at all. But let me assure you, I have done nothing...literally nothing... but think and think some more about the whys and hows of this whole thing. And so there I was, holding the last fragment of a puzzle I have been trying to put together for what seems like forever. And I faltered. I wasn't sure, all of a sudden, if I was crazy and if I really wanted to do this. I was having reservations. But there's no sense in leaving a job half done. I sent it in. And waited.
One day ago, I was accepted into postulancy with the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity. I am overwhelmed. I am excited and speechless! Jesus wants me! He has pursued me and continues to do so. He desires my heart. And I am at peace. I have received my invitation. And I will take it. Once again, I am not sure where this leads. I know that I will have other moments of pause and reservation. I will fight with my insecurities and my wants. But, yes, I will go. I am honored to accept His Invitation...

Reservation for two, please.

unsure

I run to the edge of the world. I leap, pushing outwards
with all of my strength. Hurling over the edge, I am flying.
Arms outstretched. Reaching.
Falling into nowhere. Into everywhere. The wind pounds my face,
kneading my skin with it's fingers. Soaking into my skin, my soul.
Brutal but not unbearable.
Debrii from the edge has broken away.
It sprinkles, cracks and chips my already tender resolve.
I am still falling. waiting. expecting. hoping.
Seemingly suspended here but moving just the same.
There is silence here.
Only me at the edge of the world. Only the wind in my ears, whistling at me.
Inviting me. It holds me up. I love the wind.
I love its freedom. It's voice. It moves me.
Falling, I wait




I am returning to this entry because I feel like I should explain my thoughts on it a little better. I have always loved the wind. I feel like God loves me through it and reminds me of Himself, whether it's a strong wind or a gentle breeze. This entry was a moment when I felt like I was just going crazy in this discernment process. Inwardly, I was being pulled in all directions. Should I or shouldn't I? What's gonna happen? Did I make the right choice? For a time, I felt like I was falling into something crazy. In all of it, God was the wind. Nudging me forward, pulling me towards Him, eroding all of my excuses and just carrying me. Gently, and sometimes not so much, He brought me to where I needed to be.

Masters of Disguise

Yesterday, I decided it was time to take out my nose ring. I have had it less than a year but, for some reason, I found this difficult...the only reason I am writing about it now. As I was vacillating about taking out this tiny piece of jewelry, I began to wonder why it was even that important. What was the real reason I had become so attached to it?

As I thought back to the reasons I got it, I was somewhat disappointed in myself. They were reasons I didn't really care to acknowledge at the time, I guess. I wanted to be rebellious for once in my life. I wanted to fit in with the "hip" new styles but at the same time I wanted to be different... at least different than I was. I wanted to feel daring and exciting! And even deeper than all that, I thought it would make me feel pretty (although some would argue that putting holes in your face are far from pretty). And I thought it would distract from things I wanted to hide.
None of these reasons are wrong in and of themselves, I don't think. It's human to want. But it's where we get caught up that becomes the problem. It's how much power we give these wants that get us into trouble. I guess I shouldn't say I was really disappointed. Rather, I was made suddenly aware that my reasons were less than perfect.

I am not saying that a little nose ring is a horrible thing but it got me to thinking about all the other little things that I have become attached to, things I deem as necessity. And more importantly, what am I trying to hide with those things? What are my motives? It was all a cover up, a sham, a disguise! Who'd have thought a nose ring would hold so much intrigue? And I found that when it was gone, I felt exposed somehow and like there was a gaping hole in the facade I had created. All because of a ring. Or rather, all because of what I thought it represented.
What I have decided is that we are all Masters of Disguise, my friends! We are all trying to cover up flaws, remain unexposed and invulnerable. We are all wanting to feel exciting and beautiful, empowered, bold and intriguing. We are all hiding imperfections.
Let me also just say that I hate the saying, " Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What does it matter that someone else thinks you are beautiful if you don't believe it yourself? It has been the hardest thing in the world for me to accept the truth that I am beautiful simply because I was created by beauty Himself. I am a work in progress, I suppose, but aren't we all?

"Withdraw into yourself and look. And if you do not fine yourself beautiful yet, act as does the creator of a statue that is to be made beautiful: he cuts away here, he smoothes there, he makes this line lighter, this other purer, until a lovely face has grown his work. So do you also: cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, bring light to all that is overcast, labor to make all one glow or beauty and never cease chiseling your statue, until there shall shine out on you from it the godlike splendor of virtue, until you see the perfect goodness surely established in the stainless shrine."
Plotinus