In the Waiting Room

I am at home with my family for the summer waiting to enter the Daughters of St. Paul in September. It's a strange feeling, waiting. But at the same time, I am not really waiting. I am living my life with the notion that there is something dim on the horizon that is going to shake things up.

Honestly, I have this talent for not thinking of big things that are coming in the future. It is something that I have always been able to do and I cannot explain why or even take credit for it. It is as if I commit my future self to something that my current self cannot quite fathom and then when it comes I struggle a bit with the shock and then just accept it. I wish I could bottle this strange ability and sell it.

If someone wanted to blame my decision on entering religious life on someone or something other than God, I think it would be this talent. Every daring and brave thing that I have done in my life is really because when I commit to doing it, I am actually committing another self (my future self) who I don't really identify with enough to realize that it is actually me.

But as my entry date draws near I am having occasional realizations that the future self I imagined as "Sister Theresa" will very soon be my actual self and that is a strange feeling.

I was hoping I could become more perfect before these two selves met in time. I have been trying to smooth out my rough edges as much as possible so that my future self is not too shocked when she meets me. I don't want her to draw back in disgust. And I have been able to work on some things. Or actually, to be more truthful, I have been able to let God work on some things in me without getting in the way (too much).

But as that day draws near I am getting more comfortable with the fact that I am not perfect, I am not going to be a perfect religious and I am all too close to the Theresa I have always been.

I find comfort in the fact that God chose me. He reached out His hand and beckoned me to this life and after much whining, kicking and spitting, I finally grasped His finger and followed. The way before me is foggy. Most times I cannot even see His hand as I am holding it. But I know it is there, and so I walk on.

I am waiting to meet my future self in September and then many more future selves with the hope that in each meeting I will find my imagined future self closer to the person who God imagines and knows me to be.

I'm on my way God

The moment you hear God’s call is a moment of recognition, a moment of receptivity and of deep concern. It is a moment when all we have to do it to realize that we are creatures, and that it is God who makes the call.

- Catharine de Hueck Doherty

God has called me to religious life and after several years of agony, tantrums and a slowly developing love affair with Him, I have accepted His proposal.

I've been thinking about this for so long that I forget that so many people, including Catholics really have very little understanding of what a calling to religious life means. I'm still not completely sure myself.

In fact, when I first heard the call from God to discern my vocation in life, I realized that I had very strong stereotypes of what it meant to be a "nun" and really very few real life experiences that allowed me to hear God's call.

Slowly, God called me on a journey of understanding religious life and the beauty of a life dedicated to serving God, His Church and His people.

At the beginning of the process whenever I heard a prayer for vocations during the Prayers of the Faithful at Mass, my heart would fill with absolute terror - "They are talking about me!" I would practically scream internally.

But one day, at St. Albert's, after this prayer was made I looked around at the young Dominican men in formation, prayerfully standing, strong, and pure in their white habits and I made a plea to God - "If you are calling me to this life - you have to change my heart. I am weak, I am terrified and I cannot answer your call unless you change my heart. PLEASE CHANGE MY HEART GOD."

And He has my friends, He has.

The Giving Spirit

An opportunity for a last minute donations! My sister Liz has set up a fund to help cover the cost of books and supplies for some of her former students in Agua Fria, Honduras the mountain town where she did her Peace Corps service.

For some of these students, if Liz was not helping to pay for their school costs, they would not be able to attend school.

Click below to send a payment via PayPal! She has a nice certificate that she can send you to use as a gift (co-workers, family members, neighbors, etc.) if you'd like. Just email me if you are interested.

THANKS!

Arghh the button is not working. If you want to make a donation, please go to my mom's blog and press the Buy Now button and that will take you to Paypal to make a secure donation to a good cause. Most non-profits spend a good percentage of their money on overhead. This donation you can be sure goes straight to kids who are hoping for a brighter future - CLICK HERE

Inspiring

God is at work in our world!

Celebrating Saint Padre Pio

Padre Pio is one of my favorite saints and today is his feast day.

I recently read his biography and it was fascinating, things you could not even make up: many miraculous healings, predicting the future and even examples of bilocating. He suffered greatly physically and psychologically. He had the stigmata for most of his life, and endured terrible persecution from many, including from his own order and other archbishops and priests in the Church.

But what is most amazing to me about Saint Padre Pio after reading his biography is how much his life is like Christ's. It finally hit home after I read about his life and felt such a strong love for him that this is what the saints do for us. Through their unique way of living in the world and relating to God, they bring us closer to Christ.

I'll admit, sometimes it is hard for me to relate to Jesus. He lived so long ago and we don't have letters that he wrote or nearly as many anecdotal stories as we have for saints like Padre Pio who lived in more modern times. So, for me, in reading the life of Saint Padre Pio, how much he suffered and his ministry with people, allowed me to grow closer to the person of Jesus because that is who Padre Pio was imitating.

So, thank you Padre Pio for the beautiful gift you are to the Church and the beautiful example you are to all of us as someone who lived virtues heroically and suffered joyfully for love of Jesus.

Mary Mo

I always seem to do this whenever a sibling travels far away, I start to eulogize them in my mind as if it makes any difference to me whether they are in Michigan or Honduras or Costa Rica or Oklahoma.

Mary is gone for her year abroad in Costa Rica and Chile. My mom and I recently discovered that Mary is the only one in her junior class to travel abroad. She mentioned it nonchalantly when my Mom commented on how difficult it has been for her to be able to travel abroad.

This quiet determination on my sister's part set me to reminisce about Mary and the role she has played in her family.

The Noble children are a determined, passionate and stubborn bunch. I would say that these characteristics are present in all of us but are expressed in very different ways.

Mary, although a very extroverted girl since she was little, probably expresses these traits in the quietest way of the family.

I remember one time she asked my mom to go somewhere with her and David. Mom said, "No" and Mary quietly accepted her answer when most of the Noble children would have yelled and possibly thrown something. A half an hour into Mom and David's drive they heard a rustling in the back seat. Mom looked in the rear-view mirror and Mary's little blond head popped up with a huge grin on her face. Mom could hardly muster up a look of disapproval. That is usually how Mary gets things done - quietly, with charm and mischievousness that very few people can resist.

When Mary was around 5 she, like most 5-year-olds at that time was obsessed with Beanie Babies. When McDonalds was selling them in their Happy Meals Mary would sit with a phone book in her lap and call every McDonalds until she found the one that had the Beanie Baby that she had not yet collected. Unabashedly, she would ask them to save it for her and then she would convince my Mom to drive to a McDonalds out in the boonies so she could get her Beanie Baby.

One afternoon I was sitting on the couch reading a book and Mary was sitting on the floor, the Classifieds spread out before her calling EVERY SINGLE person who had an ad for Beanie Babies.

"Hello, I was wondering what Beanie Babies you are selling. Oh, do you have the Garcia Bear? Oh no, ok thanks"

After a while I noticed that Mary would change her voice sometimes as she called people.

(in a gruff male voice) "Hello, could you tell me if you are selling Princess?"

Finally I became suspicious and asked, "Mary why are you changing your voice?"

"Oh sometimes I forget to ask someone a question so I call them back and change my voice so they do not know," she replied.

Ah Mary. I'll miss you down there in Costa Rica. Behave yourself, go to church, hang out with your host family instead of Americans and learn lots of Spanish.

I love you lil' sis.

Sacred Stillness

http://www.sacredstillnesstoday.blogspot.com/