My Next Step!

This post comes about a month after its contents were revealed to me but as a precious and important bit of news I decided to spread it gradually and personally. I am sorry to those of you who I was unable to contact in that way before you read this but I rejoice in getting to share it with you through my preferred medium of the written word.

Surprise! (...or maybe not?)

I am not sure onto whose ears this news will fall as completely unexpected or not understandable. Even those who have merely read my blog a couple of times could have detected (I hope) an interest I had in heading this direction. Truth be told it is something I've been prayerfully considering for a good couple of years now. These are not the kind of things you can decide over night (not without miraculous grace and trust at least).

To take you to the beginning would be impossible since seeds are always planted way before the first green sprouts forth from the earth. However I can give you a bit of an insight into the happenings of these past few years and the components that have made this choice not only possible but free and joyful.

First I must stress the importance of quality time in my journey. It seems to be an often unspoken truth that relationships cannot be built without intentionally seeking out time to spend together. Indeed how can two people relate to each other without the investment of time? In my experience, intentionality is a work in progress. However, the more time spent together, the more my desire to continue to show up grows. Even when the pool of discussion topics runs dry or an air of conflict fills the space between us, I cannot deny the tuggings from both my head and my heart to remain there in the presence that fulfills me, that has captivated my heart, and that never stops inviting me back.

Second I share with you the naturalness and gradual growth of this relationship that has led to "my next step". Many times over the last years I - rather foolishly - begged for a sign, a bright blinking billboard to grab my attention and hit me upside the head with my life's purpose. And all the while I moved forward, slowly and steadily, sometimes without even my own knowing. This growth - this advancement - has been so natural that upon reflection I realized that there was less of a choice to yet be made and more of one to recognize as having already been made. I'm sure many of you can relate. There comes a point in many relationships (especially those long term friendships that gravitate more and more towards dating relationships) when two choices are present: the recognition that the relationship is more than what it started as and must be embraced in its new definition OR the denial of the existence of the development usually leading to retreat and confusion for each involved. I opted for the former being honest enough to know that I am caught in something I don't want out of.

Thirdly I briefly mention feelings because although it is not advisable to stake much on them, they are a very real part of the human experience. For me, feelings (as expected) come and go. Sometimes they remain longer and sometimes they are simply absent. Contrary to my prior belief, it is in their absence that I discover my true sentiments. Willing to stay despite unpleasant or un-present feelings is one of the most real "yes's" one can say in a relationship.

Finally, I write a word about joy and peace. Throughout this recent period of my life which a friend once accurately dubbed "agonizingly beautiful", my true compass has been joy and peace. When I speak of them I don't mean feelings in the way I mentioned above but rather that foundational joy and peace that lies as a cushion just below my heart. Just this morning I was explaining their presence in my life especially during this past month to my roommate. There is this pervading joy and peace that underlies everything else. Even on the days that could have gone a lot better or in the face of my three final exams this week, I can't shake it. Some days I even want to be more upset, to pity myself, to break that annoying joy that won't go away but I just can't. It is this joy and peace that guide me and direct my steps, and with their presence I can't deny the surety of where I stand now and where I'm headed in the future.

So what is this big announcement? Do you really not know?

Over the past two years I have been discerning a call to consecrated life. In the past year I have discerned that the Lord is indeed calling me in that direction of giving my life completely over to him mind, body, and soul. Honestly it feels like the most natural thing in the world to pursue a deeper exclusivity with the One who has captured my heart with such tenderness and patience.

Concurrently I have been journeying with the Apostles of the Interior Life (that community I so often post about) and submitted my application in the middle of this fall semester. The news I received a month ago was of my acceptance! Thus, providing that I pay off my student debt (read more about how you can help me do that here), I will enter their community post-graduation in June of 2015. They have asked me to spend the summer with them in Italy (yippee!) and then to return to live with them in their house in College Station where I will spend my 1 year of pre-formation. Upon its completion and at the will of God, I will move to Rome for 5 additional years of formation before vows.

I could not think of a better time to enter a religious community than during the year that the pope has dedicated as The Year of Consecrated Life. In a letter to all consecrated he named one of his aims for the year as "to live the present with passion." He speaks of the Gospel saying "[It] is demanding: it demands to be lived radically and sincerely. It is not enough to read it (even though the reading and study of Scripture is essential), nor is it enough to meditate on it (which we do joyfully each day). Jesus asks us to practice it, to put his words into effect in our lives." In my own life I have heard Jesus speak in the depths of my heart. I have heard Him call my name and ever so gently ask of me my life.

It is my deepest desire first and foremost to follow the will of Him whom my heart loves and who I know as the source of all good, and it is my slightly lesser desire that this will lead me to professing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience in accordance with the Rule of Life of the Apostles of the Interior Life.

Prayers are welcome.

Now I desire to take you through a picture timeline of my journey with the Apostles. :)


The day Sr. Michela and I made kolaches...



...and pizza (Spring 2012)

When I "needed" a picture with those Italian nuns my freshman year (Spring 2012)

FIAT group (Spring 2013)

My first Catholic Spiritual Mentorship Program in Kansas (May 2013)

My second time at the CSMP; first time in loads of snow (January 2014)

Sr. Michela (my first spiritual director) at CSMP (Jan 2014)

House of Formation in Rome (May 2014)

Hiking in Cortina (July 2014)

Briana, Sr. Michela, Me in Rome (July 2014)

Me and Sr. Susan-the first sister! (July 2014)

Me, Janelle, Sr. Tiziana, and Briana (July 2014)

Sr. Sabina (July 2014)

My first picture with "Sister" Tatum (September 2014)



Recreation with Briana (Fall 2014)

The day I got my letter! (Nov 20, 2014)

With my future roommates!
December 8, 2014

The gift of learning

This is a blog post spurred by two things: my new found appreciating for learning and the anxiety of class scheduling.

Learning to Love Learning
In recent weeks it has hit me how wonderful the gift of learning and pursuing a higher education really is. In the midst of papers, readings, tests I find myself blossoming with joy and eagerness for more knowledge. One day something just clicked. I noticed a movement in my head that occurs while I am in my classes or have my nose stuck in a book. My new discoveries bounce off of old ones creating links from past studies to present. I am surprised by my memory of old classes and material previously learned that my mind immediately refers back to. It's as if everything just continues to build upon itself and expand. It's really quite awesome! I also recognize the world view that I live in by where my brain goes when I am confronted with a new theory or concept. My first questions are often: "how does the Church view this?" and "where is Jesus in that?" This allows me to see how my Catholic formation and my civil education both collide to create a unique and developing "mental me".

Perhaps much of this excitement is spurred by the love I have for my classes this semester. The class structures are so much more discussion based then I am used to. We read actual writings of experts and/or witnesses of events. There are no more textbooks - simply books written by anthropologists, political scientists, investigative reporters, and the like. Sure I read even more and am constantly studying something but I am also seeing the application of that which I study in everyday life and find myself desiring to speak of it with others. I have had classes like such scattered throughout past semesters but this one is littered with them. It is these upper level classes that I will miss the most.

Feeling assured by the fact that learning does not ever end, I move forward joyfully but also patiently appreciating the present moment of lecture halls, papers, heavy reading loads, exams, and (dare I even say it)...group projects.

Class Scheduling
As far as college goes, I think class scheduling is the most anxious time for me - more than even exam periods or big project deadlines. There is just something about registering for classes that stresses me out. I'd say it is connected with the fact that I don't want to pick something that I will regret having taken and have to live with knowing that I picked it myself. It's just a lot of self inflicted pressure and exposes two weakness of mine: to look at the top of the staircase instead of the next step and to fear yet desire to have control. I don't have a remedy for these two weaknesses. They are just imperfections I am slowly storing up the courage to ask for purification from. I say storing up courage because we often get what we pray for in ways that aren't as "romantic" as we imagined. For instance, a prayer for patience can land you in a car that hits every single red light on Texas Avenue. (Try it. I dare you.)

Anyways...scheduling this time around presents two new experiences for me: (1) It is my last time to schedule classes since I graduate in May 2015 (A-Whoop), and (2) I am only taking 3 classes for a total of 9 hours. As a soon-to-be graduating senior I find myself overwhelmed with the realization that my time here is quickly diminishing. And, as I mentioned above, with my new found love and appreciation for learning burning in my heart, I look to that day in May with bittersweet feelings. Yes it is a day that marks the achievement and hard work I've put into these past 4 years (and the 12 before that really) but it also marks the end to this time of learning. Now don't get me wrong, learning is a life long project that we can't turn off if we wanted to. However, there's a difference between learning from life or as a professional and living the vocation of being a student in a university setting. Right now, as I harped on earlier in this post, I am obliged to spend my time studying in a very literal sense reading primary and secondary sources by experts or first hand witnesses, expanding my knowledge at the feet of professors who devote their life to the very subject of my study, and developing a close relationship with my laptop on which I spend hours each day researching and writing. Sure I can choose how much time I devote to it and do take healthy breaks for prayer, relaxation, and fun, but my duty as a student is to do what students do (i.e. study). There is no other time like this in life. I currently live to go to campus and increase my knowledge.

Looking at the class choices, I realize that I want to take them all. I can't pick. I don't want to think of missing out on great classes I could take (which is ridiculous because there are many great classes that I would never have enough time to take). The good news: Jesus got this. I don't have control...not really at least. I have free will so I can choose the class but I am not required to control the outcomes. If anything I am required to surrender and relinquish that control to God who knows exactly what class He has in mind for the formation that I will receive in this next spring of my life.

And when the gift is unwrapped?
Does walking across the stage in Reed Arena, signaling the end of my time as an undergraduate student at the great Texas A&M University mean that learning is over? No, but you all get that by now. Does it mean that learning in this way - in a class setting, on a campus, surrounded by friends in the same situation, without a 9-5 job or a larger commitment in place - is over? Yes. Am I sad about this? Yes AND No. Yes because this time of college really is quite awesome (see above for how I really feel about that :P ). No because God has willed it to be so, and if God has willed it, it is the best thing - the highest good.

We are Pilgrims on a Journey

Just follow this train of thought:

home is where the heart is

where your treasure is there will your heart be also (Mt 6:21)  

Home is where the heart is.
As overused as this saying may be, it rings true in many ways. To feel home somewhere is simply to have a happy and full heart there. In my cultural geography class we learned about iconic landscapes. This term names the feeling I get when Hwy 60 opens up to reveal the A&M water tower and press box of Kyle Field or when acres of flat lands below a great big Texas sky -no matter how dry- pushes sweetness right from my heart up into a great big smile on my face. A&M Campus in College Station and Texas country farmlands are two examples of iconic landscapes for me. Seeing them produces a movement of my heart that reminds me that I am home.

Where your treasure is there will your heart be also.
This is one of my favorite Bible versus (although arguably I say that ALOT...so I have quite a few). In a meditation over it one day, it really hit me that, with my free will, I choose where my heart will be. If I cherish things of this world as my treasure (namely fame, wealth, popularity, and the like) my heart will be in the world and consequentially never satisfied by any of the passing pleasures present here. But, if I cherish the things of heaven as Jesus instructs us (i.e. virtues, friendship grounded in God, true beauty, pure love, etc...), my heart will be in the hands of God. And what better place of refuge than the very Hands of its Craftsman? Only there can my heart be satisfied, quiet, and confident (in the poetically beautiful words of Audrey Assad).

In sum.
Our home is with God who crafted our hearts. Our hearts can only be completely fulfilled and satisfied in His presence. Thus, Heaven -the true home to which He calls us- contains the things that should comprise all of our treasure. Being that God created these complicated hearts of ours that often try to stray away from those wonderful treasures in Heaven, He knows this is not always easy for us. In order to lead us on our journey, He gives us feelings of home along the way. This starts in our nuclear families that foster our growth and begin our formation (thus the importance of the family unit in society). After that, a well formed conscience (through catechesis and much prayer) will sense a distinct difference in the feeling of home in a place that is propelling one toward God or leading one astray. Although the pleasures of this world can be enticing, the emptiness left in their wake is deafening and unavoidable by a heart willing to seek true fulfillment and joy. In stark contrast, when a heart stores up its treasure in Heaven, nothing -not even legitimate struggles or sacrifice- can break one's sense of purpose and deep down joy. This "home-feeling" becomes a compass on our path to living God's will. It is also useful in distinguishing between two goods that both potentially lead to Heaven when only one of these goods is made for the particular person in question (i.e. Vocation to marriage or celibacy for the kingdom). Therefore, as pilgrims journeying to our true home (Heaven), we can trust in our Navigator (God) who connects all the homes we experience in this life in a straight line to Him.

St. Mary's Catholic Center; College Station, Texas.
For me, St. Mary's is one of these "homes" on my way to my true, eternal home. More than anything, the feeling of home is manifested in the people I am surrounded by here. Lately I have been reflecting over the wonder at having made such close-knit friendships and developed a family-like community in a little over three years. St. Mary's is a place that never fails to provide me with a warm familiar face at the same time that it introduces me to someone new. It is where I can go to rest, study, eat, learn, and worship. And best of all, St. Mary's houses Jesus in the Eucharist providing ample time for prayer and being in His glorious presence. I know that God has given me St. Mary's as a home to lead me to my true home with Him in Heaven. For on this earth, we are a pilgrim Church after all...

During an Aggie Football watch party at St. Mary's

Roomies!

At Rockie's for a night of dancing!

After a Sunday mass

Thursday night recreation with this lovely

After daily mass when all of our eyes were a starkly different color

Watching the Aggies BTHO ULM

My One Reoccurring Thought

As I walk home across the short pasture that separates my house from Grandma's with tears brimming at my eyes because I have to leave once again, I have the reoccurring thought that has been following me for the past several months now: God You are so good. But this thought does not occur alone. In fact it constantly precedes the haunting question: Why? Why are You so good to me who does not merit any of this on my own? Indeed I cannot claim the one thing that does merit His goodness which is the love with which He created me.

I am reminded of His goodness and haunted with this "why" daily as I look around myself. Who am I really to have this beautiful piece of land, these wonderful loving people in my life, and countless other blessings that I don't always even recognize? To what of myself can I attribute the fact that I attend an amazing university (A-Whoop) with an even more amazing Catholic campus ministry to provide me with a true home away from home? Nothing. I am nothing...not without Him. As a matter of fact, I am only something because of Him.

Therefore, I can come to no other conclusion but to that of my primary identity. It is not that I deserve these things or that I have worked hard to earn them. My life is how it is simply because He loves me. Simply because I am loved by Him who is Love. I need not do anything but be. I am and He gives generously. My cup overfloweth. He has loved me with an everlasting love. I am His.
Even when I do wrong - when I sin - I find favor with the Father who awaits me with open arms and a slaughtered calf. It really quite amazes me that I can walk around all day and not be overwhelmed to the point of disability to function by this fact. That I can actually sometimes completely ignore it. How ungrateful and selfish am I in these moments. And how patient and devoted is He.

Even in pain and suffering God is still God and never leaves our side. He is forever faithful and keeps all of His promises. Perhaps in those moments of suffering the realization of God's goodness is that much more striking and precious. It is then that we are granted entrance into His own suffering (at least a glimpse) - suffering He willingly underwent for our sake. Because He, who is far above us, did not have to take on our corrupt flesh and endure the worst kind of death. He is God. He does not have to do anything. So why did He? Because He loves us.  But we are so bad, so broken, so selfish, so sinful, so...human. Why God? Because you need Me. Because you are Mine. Because I Am.

May this reason why be enough for you and may your days be forever haunted with this same reoccurring thought because indeed God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.

Living a balanced life (well...trying)

You know that religious community that I talk about all of the time - the Apostles of the Interior Life? Well, they promote living a balanced life as a means to joy and fulfillment. The first talk I actually heard them give was on exactly this. Needless to say I was attracted by the idea but it has taken me awhile to actually implement it. And as a college student, my schedule changes each semester so I'm basically starting over from square one each August and January. However, it does get easier after trying and failing so often. I mean...I know you've heard "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again". But why was I motivated to keep trying? Why bother adding one other task to the long list set before me? Because even the few little glimpses that I have had of this so-called "balanced life", whether it be in my own life or that of someone else, has been so powerful and so attractive. I just had to have it too.

I consider last fall semester (2013) to be the time that I really started to understand the beauty in balance. In a bit of a health kick, I started making time for running each day as well as eating healthy. I also had recently "upped my game" in the prayer realm and started praying the Liturgy of the Hours regularly. Finally, something that I never give enough credit to because I have nearly forgotten about it now, I gave up tv which had been something that ate up a lot of my time previously. With these simple changes in my life I found that I was genuinely more happy and less stressed.

Rule of Life

I essentially wrote a Rule of Life for myself. This was preceded by simply listing out all that I wanted to do with my day down to the very basics: prayer, mass, meals, exercise, study, class, shower, clean, fun, etc. With a list made and narrowed down to my priorities, I set out to give each "duty" a time, a place, in my day. Arranging them in the order that made the most sense to me and then shuffling them around for the next few weeks until they created a beautiful harmony in my life. That's what it feels like to live balance - like I'm living a song. My time in prayer and at mass is the melody because of its constancy and beauty. When I find myself off key or out of tune, all I need to do is find the melody to get back on track, and I know that without the melody there cannot be any harmony.

Sunday

To make it even better, in the spring, I started to observe "keep holy the Sabbath day" more strictly and gave up all school work, errands, and unnecessary labor on that day. This meant more work on Friday night and Saturday but it sure has increased my appreciation of Sunday. I can't wait until Sunday now and it's so refreshing to be able to honor this great day in even the attitude I have towards it. Sunday is no longer that dreadful day that precedes the terrible Monday. No. Sunday has literally become my funday. I can't help but smile at the thought of it being Sunday and you should see me on that day! Talk about happy and stress free! I get to take walks, bake kolaches or cook in general, hang out with friends, or even just rest without the guilt of not doing any school work because I finished it all the days prior in anticipation of my resting day. "Funday Sunday" anyone?

I also find it all the more appropriate because the extra time allows me to draw nearer to the Lord on this special day. It is in fact not only the day He ordained for rest but the one on which He rose from the dead. The day He made sense of His suffering Passion and Death. The day He opened up the gates of Heaven. The day He completed His mission and conquered all death and evil. The victory is won! We must celebrate that!

I am convinced that God did not just create Sunday as a day of rest for Him. Sure He may have been the first to utilize it but He desires that it be a resting day for us all. He created us. He knows the difficulty, the stress, the labor (perhaps more than anyone) it takes to be human. And He wants us to take time for ourselves to recharge and rediscover silence. He doesn't desire that we draw closer to Him on Sundays for His own sake (although He undoubtedly enjoys the attention of His beloved children) but because it is the best thing for us. The more we draw closer to our Heavenly Father, the more we come alive. The more we discover ourselves and find the path to greater fulfillment in joy. It really is an all around win-win if I ever heard of one. This is why Sunday is soooo important and so worth a working Friday and Saturday to be able to rest on it.

My Personal Balancing Act

With all of that said, I must admit that this semester has presented me with an especially difficult time of finding balance. By no means is every task weighed out in the perfect proportion and leaving me forever feeling refreshed and ready to go on to the next. Quite the contrary I have found myself fatigued and a bit overwhelmed at times. This is mostly due to the work load I find myself with this year in writing and reading intensive classes that won't seem to give me much of a break. However, the melody of my song this year is much stronger than it has been in the past. It is actually the only thing that has continued to improve during this past year of intentionally seeking balance. And for me, that is enough to prove that balance works. If it is bringing me closer to the Lord by showing me how much I really do depend on and need prayer in my life, than it is well worth it.

And that's what I'd like to leave you with today. If you see no other appeal to this idea of balance. If you interpret it as just a massive mess of list making and complicating schedules then simply consider implementing it solely for the effect it could (in my opinion, would) have on your prayer life. Before sitting down in front of my schedule and really thinking about what I was doing with each of my days, why I was doing it, and how I could be more fruitful in them, I didn't quite understand how important prayer was. I hadn't experienced the lightness of truly relying on the Lord as my friend, as the One to carry my burdens, or the One to just listen to me. But now that I have seen how much is actually required of me each day I know that I could never do it on my own or more accurately, I know that I could never do it without Him. My hope - my prayer - is that the reading of this blog could in any way, shape, or form do the same for you.

 

In your heart you know that it is not the same to live without Him.

-Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium

Encounter of a divine kind

So I recently had a beautiful experience that I would love to get detailed about but out of the respect of privacy I must not. However, the actual experience itself is not as important as the lesson to take from it.

What I can tell you is that I recently started up a conversation with a young woman and was left afterwards with a joy filled and content heart. Why is this? Because I had opened myself up to this encounter that the Lord had in store for me...well us.

You see, I didn't have to introduce myself to her and she didn't have to reciprocate the conversation I initiated. We were just both in a room together for a few minutes but I'd be willing to say that because of the openness we both had to the conversation, we left that room edified and better for having had it.

So naturally, as I am prone to do, I've been thinking. These kinds of encounters are awaiting us always if we just put ourselves in a position that's open to them. In The Weight of Glory C.S. Lewis says: “Next to the Blessed Sacrament Itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.” Wow! What does this mean? This means that we are each other's opportunity to encounter the Divine (that is the Creator who created each and every one of us with unique gifts and talents that point to Him).

But what does this mean for us in a practical application for everyday life? Well, I'd say its a challenge to say "hi" to that stranger on the bus or in class. A challenge to stop listening to music and listen to someone else's voice for a change. A challenge to be present to the people - the opportunities of encounter - around us.

We don't know the impact we can have or another person can have on us and maybe we won't ever even see the fruits from a conversation, but we need to encounter others and see them as the holy and divinely created beings that they (we) are.

Today we celebrate the Feast of St. Matthew who, before becoming an apostle, was a detested tax collector sitting at his post. But with one look - one encounter - his life was changed forever. Now we know that this encounter was so impactful because it was with Jesus Christ. So how does that relate to my blog post? Genesis tells us that "God created man in His own image." We are points of encounter for others, and they are the same for us. To reiterate what C.S. Lewis so beautifully states: outside of the Eucharist, Jesus Himself, the best opportunity we have to encounter something holy with our humanly senses is each other. That's powerful stuff.

So, like St. Matthew and the other apostles, go out as people who were sent for each other. Be a prayer warrior for your family, an accountability partner for your best friends, and a warm smile for a complete stranger. Be beacons of light, salt for the earth. Spread His love. His joy.

Like with St. Matthew, Jesus has looked on us with love. It's about time we start truly loving those that we see.

St. Matthew the Apostle pray for us.

#catholicprobs

So this past Saturday, I had to choose between two wonderful and joyous events to attend which only show how Catholic I really have become.

What were those two events? I'll tell you in a second but first I need to give a back story.

Many of us come to a point in our lives when we stop and think "whoa...look how far I've come." Saturday, or rather the day I realized I had to choose which event to go to on Saturday, was one of those days for me.

Three years ago I entered college with my faith on, what I considered, the "right track". I was already attending mass daily and had an attraction to the faith, but beyond that, I wasn't much different than the rest. Or was I?...

Here at St. Mary's, I found a community of Catholic college kids living their faith and having the time of their lives while doing it. I encountered a religious community that stressed prayer and balance. And most importantly, I encountered Jesus Christ in a more personal way.

Now, flash forward three years and imagine the subtle increase of prayer, knowledge, and love for the faith that has grown in me. (Check out my Who I Am blog page for an example). My closest friends are other Catholics also striving to grow in their faith and discover their Vocation (the path in life the Lord has created them for and called them to). Which brings me to the dilemma...

Katie Crandall, a now alumni of Texas A&M, and I met in the spring semester of my freshman year when she was my SI leader for Geography of Planet Earth. We then culminated our friendship in groups at St. Mary's (those led by the Apostles of the Interior Life in particular). Our friendship took us on many adventures including a whirlwind of a weekend pilgrimage to Hanceville, Alabama to see the Shrine of the Blessed Sacrament and a week living together one summer eating ice cream, pizza, and watching documentaries that convinced us of the existence of Mermaids (I am not kidding, check it out here!)

Katie, Karen, and I in front of the Shrine of the Blessed Sacrament

Only days before her entrance

Katie graduated in May of 2014 and spent the summer touring the States to visit all of her friends and family. She did this in anticipation of Saturday which was to be a day that would change her life forever. You see, Saturday Katie Crandall, my dear dear friend, entered a religious community as a first year postulant. This beautiful and young religious community (founded in the 1990s I believe) is The Sisters of Life, and they are located mostly in the North England area and Canada. Katie's convent is in the Bronx of New York City and upon entrance one cannot use any social media or modern forms of communication. The only means of communication Katie can use to speak with relatives and friends who don't live nearby is letter writing. And as beautiful as this is, it understandably caused Katie some stress which she relieved by visiting everyone she could before hand.
Katie invited me to come with her to New York to attend her entrance mass and see her off and I had every intention of going before I met...

Tatum McWhirter, an alumni of Benedictine College born and raised in Hastings, Nebraska (home to none other than Kool-aid itself) and I met this past summer in Rome. She was my welcoming committee and showed me around all of the must see sites both in my first few days and when I returned to Rome on an excursion with La Scuola di Dante Alighieri in Camerino. Tatum instantly captured my heart with her genuine smile and simplicity. Upon meeting her one gets the beautiful impression that with Tatum what you see is what you get. She possesses no hidden agendas or two-faced tendencies. Tatum is transparent in all good aspects of the word. Now I say this rather confidently after only having known her for a few months but I trust that my perception is correct.
Although I first met Tatum this summer in Rome, I must confess that I have known of her for quite some time now. You see, Tatum is/was in formation with the Apostles of the Interior Life (the religious community that live and minister here at St. Mary's). Therefore her name and face were familiar to me before my summer adventure.

Tatum and I in Rome after a night watching seminarians perform a comedy at the Roman Seminary

Tatum returned to the States at the beginning of August to make her own trip to see family and friends. She too was preparing for a life changing event but not one that would cut her off from the outside world but rather one that would tie her to it in a way that she hadn't previously known. Saturday September 6, 2014 Tatum McWhirter became a Bride of Christ and vowed herself to Him in poverty, chastity, and obedience according to the Rule of Life of the Apostles of the Interior Life. She therefore became a missionary of the New Evangelization and pledged her life to the Lord through the ministry of the formation of souls.

What does this all mean?
It means that I had to pick between the entrance of one of my closest friends into a religious community knowing that my time to see her after would be limited and the wedding of a new friend of mine who was becoming a full member of the religious community responsible for my own formation and one that I hold very dear to my heart. Talk about "#catholicprobs"! I assure you that this was not an easy choice but in the end my inner peace confirmed that I had made the right one.

Eccola! The blushing bride on her wedding day!

The Return

After all of this time some of you might have started to worry that I was done with blogging now that my trip has come to an end but...fear not for I enjoy writing about myself all too much to quit now!

With that said, my time back has been a bit of a blur. To be back in Texas at my home was amazing. They say that you don't miss something until it's gone but I don't think I ever realize how much I miss home until I am back. I had two beautiful weeks filled with all of my favorite things much like the two that preceded my summer. BBQ pork ribs, wiener roasts, hamburgers, gizzards on the pit, fried steak, steak wrapped in bacon, head sausage, kolaches...I pretty much made up for all of the meat deprivation I had this summer (not to say that the pasta wasn't absolutely delicious every time!). I also enjoyed the time spent with my family from domino playing nights to cards to pitching washers, showing my slideshow, chasing after a bird dog on the loose, or just talking about nothing and everything.

Hallettsville doesn't seem to have changed a bit minus the groundbreaking for a Pizza Hut (of which my feelings are a bit mixed seeing that eating American pizza now seems a bit like treason). I couldn't wipe the smile off my face all during my first daily mass back. Everything was so heartwarmingly familiar. Even the smell of the church scented of home. I also got to once again experience the unplanned catching up conversations that one can't avoid at a small town Walmart. It's amazing how one actually subconsciously budgets time in one's mind for going to town because it is inevitable to recognize nearly every face and stop to talk to at least a few. And as usual, the Lord was good to me in this regard because I was able to "run into" those who I haven't seen in a few years. Leaving was tough because each time I realize more how precious and rare the love I have there really is.

On a different note, it is very comforting to not have to worry about a language barrier here in the States but I have to admit I miss Italian terribly. Sometimes I still find myself forming sentences to prepare for an upcoming conversation before I remember that, as a native English speaker, I don't have to think in Italian with my fellow Americans.

Grandma fixing my mess of kolache dough!

Calling moving back to A&M a hassle might not cover the half of it. After 2 months living out of a carry on I found myself overwhelmed by the amount of clothes I have. Needless to say I tried my hardest to downsize my closet as well as in other categories of household objects. This process I did slowly throughout my two weeks home and finally Mom and Dad moved me up last Saturday. Believe it or not - although to believe it shouldn't be too hard - I just barely "finished" unpacking and arranging things today. (I am pretty much done at least.) I really like this new place. It is exciting to make it my home and I think I have much more room now. But as far as homes go in Bryan/College Station, there is nothing quite like St. Mary's. At mass this passed Sunday my heart was warmed all over as I caught eyes of many of my closest friends here. There is such a strong sense of family in this community or at least in the community of my close knit friends. To see them and embrace them is to truly embrace those that I love and want the best for.

And to keep it short, I'll end with a little story. I've been hanging out with different people all week and at one point during a fit of laughter and throw back music Monday night, I turned to my new roommate Alycia and said (and I quote) "I love my life." This moment for me was really defining because it happened so innocently and unplanned. There I was, a girl who just spent her dream summer in Italy, and yet I possessed all the joy I could ever need right there in route on good ole Welborn Road. What's the moral of the story Cherise? Well, it's not that I wasn't filled with joy in Italy. I was. Definitely. The moral is that I am filled with just as much joy here in every day things as I was there in extraordinary things. It is beautiful to get out and see the wonders that the Lord has created on this earth but those things will not fulfill you. What fulfills you is love and when you are surrounded by people you love, as I was blessed to be both in Italy and here, then you can't escape joy. (And for those of you who haven't seen The Giver, go because I want to spoil it for you all and expand on this post but out of the kindness of my heart, I will resist the tremendous temptation!) Just think about a time when you truly felt joy. In at least some way wasn't it tied to love? 

The Italian Family Adventure...

My family in Italy!!

Sorry that it has taken me so long to post this. Between reuniting with loved ones back home, getting over jetlag, and organizing pictures, it has been a bit of a struggle to get this blog post written but I am happy to share this beautiful and eventful adventure I had with my family in Italy. It still amazes me that we actually did it! Go us!
My post will start with the first day of travel for my parents and end with our first day back...

31 July
Today I slept in a bit in an attempt to get back the sleep lost over my week in campeggio. In the morning Bea and I watched an Italian comedy called Il Principe Abusivo. I really liked it. I was about a princess who plans a relationship with a "peasant" in order to get good publicity and be noticed. It's a romantic comedy and even though it was difficult to understand with the Italian dialect that the peasant spoke sometimes, I enjoyed it a lot and Bea only had to explain the things that the tv skipped over in its less than perfect recording.


Giulia, me, and Chiara

Then this afternoon I went to the get gelato with Bea and two of her little cousins. They were super talkative and friendly with me so I enjoyed the time we spent together.
After, I went to mass at San Paolo's where I got to see Sr. Elena and Sr. Antonella as well as meet Sr. Antonella's mom. It was definitely nice seeing them again.
Finally, tonight I went to a birthday party with Bea. Today is the birthday of Fabiola and I actually knew a lot of the people at the party or had at least met them before. I enjoyed myself immensely. This time I even was separate from Bea for much of the time. Without her to buffer and correct my Italian I actually did rather well I think and surprisingly got compliments. At one point, I was asked to speak English so that they could practice their comprehension. At first it was very difficult for me. I couldn't form full English sentences. I was thinking first in Italian and even once I got going, my tendency was still to use Italian filler words like "but", "therefor", or "however". But after a bit it became more easy (finally) to speak my own language. But I love that Italian is becoming natural for me now. It's a shame that I have to leave and won't be speaking in the everyday way that I am now. And to my surprise and utter enjoyment, the people I've met here are expressing dislike at my leaving Sunday. Today Bea even said that I have a "stanza" (bedroom) to return to. How lovely it is to hear that. She's become like a sister to me. It will be strange not seeing her and the Tortosas everyday. I think I will miss them the most. Luckily I'll see almost all of my new found friends at church Sunday before leaving. (00:29 in "my" bed)

Aug 1
Today I went to mass with Elena and Antonella again. I said a final goodbye to Elisa (one of the girls in the Catholic co-fraternity here) after mass which was hard. She's such a wonderful woman full of life and joy. I enjoyed all of the time I spent with her and look forward to seeing her again sometime in the future. She's one who can so easily bring a smile to my face.
When I returned to the house I "helped" Bea finish cookies she was baking and then we had lunch. In preparation for the arrival of my family, we made tiramisu in the afternoon which is a traditional Italian dessert. And look out Texas because I got the recipe!
We took the cookies to Laura and chatted with her for awhile. She was one of the youth I met in the campeggio. After, we went to library to return the book which I of which I never read passed page 30. In anticipation of my brother's call, we came back to wait for it but it didn't come until much later than expected. I am very grateful for the patience of Marina and Maurizio and sorry for any hassle or worry we may have caused them. When we finally heard from them, we were informed that the missed their flight to Milan and lost a bag in Rome so wouldn't join us in Induno until tomorrow. Marina and Bea found them a bed and breakfast and Bea and I curled up on the couch for one last evening of Italian "The O.C.". The adventure has begun!

Aug 2
Unexpectantly, I saw Elena and Antonella at mass again this morning. Marina's dad gave me a ride like he has a few times before since he goes everyday.
Tonight is my last night with the Tortosa's. I can't believe this day has come and my heart is again confused. It's happy to see my parents who finally arrived today after some flight set backs but it hurts to leave my new found loved ones. After picking up my parents, we had a rather large but delicious lunch with Monica, Andrea, Edo and Pietro, and Isabella who are so kindly hosting my parents.

Then we headed to Sacro Monte and the city center of Varese after an hour of repose. Sacro Monte was really fun. The weather allowed us to walk the whole way with the twins (Edo and Pietro). It was nice to spend a bit more time with them too. They went to camp with me and are truly great guys. They study English so we were able to talk in both languages. For supper we ate light, not having much hunger and for dessert, we were joined by Davide, Francesca, Lapo, and GianLuca as well as Bea's grandparents (Marina's parents). It was a lovely evening of recounting stories and translating them. How difficult it is to speak both Italian and English but how wonderful too! I could not help but smile at my parents who didn't understand a thing of Italian because I remembered when I was the same and recognized how far I've come. It would be great to remain for longer both for the purposes of improving more with the language (especially pronunciation) but also for personal reasons of having developed relationships here. After everyone left, Brandon, Bea, and I played Maria Cart for a good 45 minutes, and I maintained my status of horrible but loved it all the same. It was also nice all day to have my family here to see where I've been all this time. I think for them that was the best part - to meet the people that have been taking such good care of their little girl and to see first hand what I've seen everyday here.

Marina's parents

Francesca, Me, Davide,
GianLuca, and Lapo

Again, I can't believe this is my last night here. The last thing I want to do is leave...this place, these people. The hardest people to leave by far are the Tortosa's. In particular, Bea and Marina who I passed most of my time with. Living with Bea gave me the glimpse of the life of sisters. We watched many an episode of the OC together (in italian), ate Nutella out of the jar with spoons, went to friend get togethers, shopping, and just chatting around the house or practicing the sounds in Italian that I can't seem to pronounce. And with Marina, I met nearly the whole town, was able to visit all of the most beautiful attractions, and was warmly welcomed into all activities. She cooked, cleaned, and drove me places. I truly found in Marina an Italian mom. In fact, I feel as if the Tortosa family is my Italian family and their home my Italian home. They will forever have a special place in my heart and prayers.

I keep being reminded that I can return as I talk about my reluctance to leave and this is both sugar to my ears and salt to my wounded heart. It's harder to leave a place knowing that I am wanted in return. But alas, I have to leave and thus must recognize the beauty in the time spent and the mission in the time ahead of me wherever the Lord leads me to next. (23:55 in my bed...for the last time)

3 agosto
What a gift! Giulio, Elena, Katia, Laura, and Don Stefano - who I thought I had saluted for the last time - were in mass today. Don even celebrated and talked about me in the homily. I was so excited when I saw them before mass and it was so great to get to have another moment with them before I had to leave. God is so good and knew that I needed to see them again and hear that homily and be reminded that I am following Him and only need Him - that those who I meet here and the places I go here are all gift. They are wonderful and even necessary sometimes, as He speaks to us through them, but they are His gifts to me that He can take back at anytime. And also, with the technology of this day and age, I can relatively easily keep in contact with these new friends and can be certain that today wasn't "goodbye". Don talked also about how making fishers of men was a metaphor of helping fish men out of the depths of sin represented by the water. Fish can't live without water and die when brought out but men can't truly live in the waters of sin and are brought to knew life when they are fished out. In our own way - through the vocation God has planted in our hearts from the beginning - we are called to be fishers of men and help bring others out of sin and closer to God. This can be done most noticeably in the priesthood with the sacrament of confession but also in holy friendships, the counsel of a consecrated person, or the loving guidance and discipline of a parent. What a great priest Don Stefano is. I have so much to learn from him! The last song at mass was one of my favorites. "Tu vieni e sequimi". It was about leaving all you have and going after The Lord. It was referencing the call of the first disciples which was today's gospel in the ambrosian rite. But I think it means more than just a leaving at the initial decision to follow Christ. I think we are repeatedly called to leave things, people, places throughout this life in our continued pursuit of the Lord. Today I had to leave new found loved ones because the Lord is calling me back to Texas to finish school and find Him in the places and faces back home. By not being attached to anything or anyone and remaining open to whatever it is that He asks me to be and wherever He asks me to go, I can be light for men and salt for the earth.

Maurizio, Bea, me, and Marina

Before leaving on the train to Milan with my family next to me and my Italian family standing outside the station, Marina asked me: "did you cry after Camerino? Cortina? Induno? Which was hardest to leave?"
I answered her truly: "yes, yes, yes. Hmmm..."
This is a good question. And it is hard to answer because each was difficult to leave for different reasons and maybe I'm just saying this now because it's the most fresh but I really think Induno is the answer. Why? Because there was a permanency here. I lived in a house, in my own room, with a family that treated me like one of them. I made friends and celebrated with them a wedding, birthday party, graduation, and just barely missed the birth of a first child. I prayed and worshipped with these people and shared the faith with them both it's struggles and triumphs. I spent a week in a tent, using bathrooms without toilets, and walking hours up and down in the Alps with them. And I sloppily and half-way conquered a foreign language with them (only by the grace of God and by speaking it with the only universal language of love). I found myself an Italian home with these people both in their town and in their hearts. I'm not sure how I merited such an experience but I know that I have the rest of my life to thank the Good Lord for it. There's no way I can go back to the States the same person now and I am surely not going back alone. Each and everyone of the people I've met on my trip here in Italy I carry in my heart and in my prayers. They say "with distance the heart grows fonder". I don't know if this is true but I know that my love for them is and that's all that matters. Whether or not I talk to them or see them again, I will always have this summer. However, I already have my heart set on a return...presto! (14:46 train from Varese to Milan)

Milan

The family in front of the Duomo

Saraii and me in Milan

Venice
As the resident Italian speaker of the trip, I took charge in Venice at the hotel and went to speak with the receptionist who actually called me "quasi italiana". She was also a very sweet lady who may have been being extra nice but I enjoyed the compliment all the same. The first night we spent walking around a bit, buying a couple of scarves, and snapping lots of pictures.
In the morning, we found a mass at 9 to go to and luckily left early because we only found it after getting lost first. Then we headed to the grand St Mark's square and church which was huge like the line we waited in to go inside! I'm glad we did though. It was quite beautiful.
To Mom's delight, the next activity was a 45 minute Gondola ride through Venice. I'll admit that I didn't have the most comfortable seat so it wasn't the most pleasant thing that I have ever done but it was nice to take part in this must-do activity of Venice and see the city from the water.

During our hour of repose in the room after lunch I researched about other Venician islands, and sure am glad I did. We went to Murano which is famous for the hand crafted glass but unfortunately the glass makers were finished working after 5. Went to burano and walked around the pretty bright buildings. Went to torcello and enjoyed the natural preserve and old churches. Went back to Venice to eat and then take another boat ride since we had paid for it and it was cool to see Venice by boat at night. Went to st marks square and walked around when there was less people and then went back to the boat to go back to hotel but mom lost her ticket. Prepared to walk back we headed to st marks and low and behold she found it! What luck! To lose it after all afternoon of use and then find it just like that! So we headed back to the boat, waited a bit, and then got on. Finally we are now in the hotel and after we get showered up from this long day, we hit the hay because tomorrow our train leaves at 7:25 to Florence! (23:18 Hotel Marte e Biasin)

Florence
After taking the early train to Florence, we walked to the hotel and left our bags because it's too early to check in. It's a house run by Franciscan nuns (Casa Santo Nome Del Gesu) so there's a beautiful garden and a chapel with Jesus in it!! :)

Casa Santo Nome del Gesu

First off we walked towards the duomo stopping by the house and church of Dante to see the gravesite of his famous muse Beatrice along the way. Then, we moved on to lunch at the same place I ate during our visit with the school of Dante Alighieri.

Same spot, calzone, and face!

Went to the Palazzo Vecchio for a tour of the museum and tower and boy was I in Disneyland! All (okay some) of what I had learned from the amazing Dr. Palmer in my Renaissance and Reformation Europe class became fresh in my mind. I quickly took charge of the family tour and explained to the best of my abilities as I marveled at the rooms we were visiting. I set foot in the apartment of Pope Leo X (Giovanni Medici) within which was a room for his father Lorenzo the Magnificent! I stood in the very room that held the brilliant mind of Niccolo Machiavelli. Although he wrote his finest works in exile, he surely started the formation of their thesis here. Finally, we ventured up to the tower which was well worth the extra few euros. And we perfectly made it as the rain was coming in. I say perfectly for two reasons. (1) they don't let people up the tower in rain so we made it just in time; (2) we got to literally see the rain as it approached.

The last rooms we visited were preceded, like the others, by a written explanation. Reading it, I was surprised to see that the English was bigger than the Italian and appeared first. Then I realized I had mistaken Italian for English in my ease of reading it. Whoa moment!!
As I toured the rooms, I didn't take many pictures. I decided to just soak in the moment and then marvel you with my words so much that you buy a plane ticket and go see it for yourself. But in any case, after this experience I must encourage you to visit a place you've studied about or study a place you are going to visit. It makes the experience all the more worth while and exciting. I could tell it was a more fatiguing and boring tour for some who came to see this "must see" florentine attraction (because sadly, aside from the town hall, that's really all it is now) for we walked a lot and there was a decent amount of reading and overwhelming amount of art to take in. However, for me, this was one of my favorite tours ever. Not because of what it is (no offense to your beloved Florence Machiavelli and Dante) but because I was seeing what I had studied and witnessing hard evidence of its actual existence. This is important because, at least for me, especially living in the States, I find it hard to always accept the concrete reality of the history I study of many centuries past. Seeing these places, I

trying my hand at tour guiding

could almost imagine the hidden conversations behind closed doors, laughter, tears, and all emotions in between; the scheming, bargain dealing, blackmailing, honest politicking (if that exists), triumph, and defeat that occurred here. History is alive. Not only is there evidence for that already established but also that which is currently, in this second, being made.
Ok...enough of my discourse showing my nerdy love for history. Another tidbit about the rain that I love: the Cellini statue I mentioned in my first post on Florence, who had a head that looked like it was bleeding when it rains. I saw it bleeding!!
And we are now sitting as the rain pours down, thunder breaks, and lightening streaks across the sky. Brandon is beside my praying the rosary, Dad is standing checking old emails (no wifi), and mom is next to me people watching. How nice to be with the family. I hope the rain lets up within the next hour though because I was really looking forward to mass at the Duomo at 6. (16:48 Palazzo Vecchio)

We finally ventured into the streets as the rain died down and arrived at the duomo a good hour before mass. Thinking we could go in a half our before, we waited and then I approached the "guard" at the mass entrance and he told us to return 5 minutes before mass. Maybe this was because of the weather but I was extremely agitated. First of all, I've recognized a lack of prayer and silence in the past couple of weeks and have been longing for time alone with Jesus. Why can't a person more easily go into a church? The guy laughed about us wanting to make a visit to the duomo instead of pray and go to mass. I'm sure this is because there are people with these intentions but with my exhaustion after a long day on my feet, I wasn't in the most forgiving mood. However, I prayed my rosary as we waited under a small hangover from the stores across from the mass entrance and awaited 5 minutes til 6. In my childish ways, I refused to enter a second earlier.
Mass however was beautiful. The priest took his time with the prayers and gave a refreshingly long and thoughtful homily for a daily mass. I must admit that I do miss the Ambrosian Rite a bit but it's also nice to be at home in the Roman Rite. Being that the mass is in Italian, I get to translate the homily and gospel message to my family afterwards and that's always a special treat for me. First, it gives me extra motivation to stay alert, second it allows me to literally share the Good News, and third (and least important because it can lead to pride) it assures me that I actually do understand this language...for the most part.
With an extra hop in my step from the grace and joy that participating in the mass gives me, we headed to Trattoria Roberto which I had quickly searched last night. It served the florentine steak that everyone in Induno would suggest to me when I talked about missing meat from back home. So
naturally almost all of us tried it but we weren't exactly prepared for its cost. Reading the menu wrong, we though we could select the size of the steak since it was priced per 100 grams. However, that apparently just means they pick a steak, weight it, and charge you that amount. Also, the steak was prepared very rare and I like my meat at least medium-well. With this said, it was a very good steak but for me it was too large and a bit bloody in the center. Therefore, naturally, I recommend you eat a florentine steak! If anything, for the experience or because you love steak cooked rare! I know y'all exist out there.
Side note: it's strange speaking English almost all of the time now. I speak a bit of Italian with secretaries, ticket office workers, and the occasional person I accidentally bump into. I really do miss that language!!
After supper and a stop for caffe, we headed to the hotel where we made ourself at home in the room. If I'm not mistaken (which happens believe it or not) this is a converted monastery so our room could very well have been that of a nun at one point. Pieces if evidence if this include the religious type painting on our ceiling and the door that reads the italian word for cloister but remains open. There are still sisters "running" it and a chapel downstairs. I made a visit to it tonight for some quiet prayer time and it was wonderful. When I entered, it was dark but I met another woman who I suppose is one of the sisters and in italian asked if I could prayer and how to turn the lights on.
After around a half hour, I attempted to connect to wifi but my phone failed me so I allowed my computer the victory, saved myself some time, and halfway planned Assisi.
Man we sure our getting through this journey fast. Talk about epic. I can't believe we were in Venice yesterday...and Florence today! What a wonderful life we are living. Love you Jesus!! (00:08 Casa Dello Santo Nome Di Gesu)

Florence - 6 agosto
I woke up and prayed for an hour this morning which was glorious. I found a little upstairs chapel here at the Casa Santo Nome del Gesu.

After the nice complimentary breakfast, we walked around Florence since we had to wait for the car we planned to rent and found our way to a place overlooking the city. Here I had a couple of me and Daddy's famous big laughs. When this happens we always end up in tears and unable to breathe. It really is the best!
Went to the car place and found out we needed 2 credit cards with the same name which we had, but they didn't take discover. Therefore we couldn't get our car because of its "prestige" that calls for 2 credit cards. There was another but it was a fiat and too small. I had a gut feeling that we shouldn't drive. I had it before but the relief that swept over me at having to go to the train station instead confirmed my instinct. Thus, we set off to the train station which thankfully wasn't too far. I wanted to call someone I knew in Italy. In fact I guarantee that those I didn't call are going to be upset that I didn't call them in the sense that they would have wanted to help but I couldn't find wifi and didn't know how to function the pay phone (21st century problems). Finally we took a number and got a guy to send us to the electronic ticket booth where we managed to buy 4 tickets with cash only after having both Brandon and my credit cards denied. We got on the train with 5 minutes to spare by the gracious help of an English speaking and understanding Italian woman. I am a bit flustered now. At one point I wanted to cry or just give up and click my heels together for home. In that moment, I could also only think of one place to run to and that was the catholic chapel I had spied in the station. I just wanted to go cry in the arms of Love Himself and be comforted by Him who created comfort. I didn't find my way there - mostly because I was preoccupied with continuing to find a way to precede with the trip. Thankfully I had the level headed and calm presence of my big brother Brandon to keep me from freezing and refraining from further action. And now we find ourselves on a regional train to Assisi. I must admit I am more pleased with this than driving although in theory we'd already be in Assisi if we had drove. I'm happy we decided to go there though instead of straight to Rome. I look forward to a visit to the hermitage and San Damiano! S. Francesco e Santa Chiara...pregate per noi.(14:25 finally headed somewhere!)

Frustration continued but then I heard the song "This is the Stuff" by Francesca Battistelli, a Christian artist, and I remembered. It's not important that we get to see all of this stuff. Yea we don't want to waste money on unnecessary tickets but we are together - something we haven't been in awhile - and we are in Italy. Didn't You teach me this summer that the things I see, as beautiful and as relevant to You that they are, aren't all that important. These places. They are just places. It's the people, the encounters, the attention I've paid to where You are in everything. And in the most grand and ornate cathedral the most precious beauty is that which is contained in the small gold box tucked away in a side altar somewhere next to the single red flame. You are holy Lord. Must I continue to forget these basic truths? Teach me Divine Master. (18:13 on the last - I hope - train to Assisi)

So it has been a day since I've written and lots has happened! First of all, I need to start with an apology (or perhaps for some of you a piece of news to relieve you) this won't be as detailed or long of an account. We misunderstood the ticket and thinking we needed to change trains we "missed" our first stop and found ourselves in the Italian Aggieland - Castilion florentine. We took a train back to the other stop and waited for an hour on the next train for Assisi and then got off again before, by finally asking someone, we realized the train went directly to Assisi. Arriving in Assisi 4 hours later than expected and with 4 km between the station and our hotel, we took a taxi from a very nice taxi driver who complimented my Italian. Our hotel Lo Scudo is definitely worth the recommendation. Being run by a verry attentive and kind woman. I found a missed call from Marina awaiting me which I returned with a large smiled. Funny enough, Bea answered and I, like others as she told me, mistook her for Marina! Hearing both of their voices was a great consolation and mood booster after the long day. We journeyed out to see the city a bit and get pictures of the beautiful surrounding landscape.

Aug 7 Thursday Assisi
Today was a very full day! We went to mass in the Saint Francis Basilica at 7 am to start the day off

right. Breakfast was ready for us back at the hotel and our dear hostess called us a cab to get us to the hermitage of St. Francis. This trip took me back to the campeggio a bit because we more or less hiked to the different caves of St. Francis's closest friends. What a beautiful place and how nice to be in nature away from the crowds. After we returned by the same taxi and arranged a deal with him to keep our bags and take us to the train station later in the day. This was very kind of him and helped us more than he could ever know because after lunch, we headed to San Damiano down the hill and with the luggage that would have been miserable! How beautiful to be there again. Going to places twice, especially close together, affords a person the chance to look at things differently and discover knew details before unseen. Having done the project over Francis and Clare in the spring semester, I feel ever closer to them and being able to "letteralmente" set foot in the places they walked, kneeling where they knelt, before the crosses that spoke to them, and adoring the same Lord

was an experience that just can't be expressed accurately with words. The final place we visited in Assisi was near the station: Santa Maria degli Angeli. Within this church lies a smaller church and chapels that were significant in both the lives of Francis and Clare. Being the first time for me, it was very exciting. To be in the place Clare fled to on the night of her wedding to Christ so near where Francis breathed his last. Wow. Oh lovely Clare and humble Francis, y'all knew...yall understood the secret to living with joy, love, and peace: Christ. Oh Lord, may that I learn the true meaning of having nothing if I don't have You.
I'm certain that I left out much but also content that I lived it. Some things are made just for the moment and I'm okay with that. There were many moments of laughing to tears and butting heads that I'm sure will be fondly and debatably recalled at family gatherings or while browsing through the scrapbook mom is sure to make of this trip.
Now, we are headed to our final destination before home - Rome! This should be interesting. I must admit I'm the least excited about this one. I like Rome. It's beautiful. But it's huge and there are TONS of tourists (aka English speakers). Also, on the final leg of my stay in Italy, I find that I am tired and regrettably emotional. It doesn't take much to fluster me in my attempt to balance the two conflicting desires I have to return home and to remain in the home Italy has become for me. Also, I've been to Rome three times now as well and can't help but dread the constant go that these next days hold ahead of me. However, seeing the excitement of my family and getting to be there for their first experiences as well as share first experiences with them is a joy in itself and perks my spirits! And in any case, ready or not, here we come! (18:56 on the train to Rome!)

Gelato: Daddy says it's better than Bluebell. [Gasp!]

This guy.

On the train I had the joy of showing dad his first pasture of cows. He's been looking for them and complaining that they bale so much hay here and serve big steaks in Florence but "there ain't no cows!!" What can I say? It really is the little things, but he was upset I saw them first so shortly after God granted him the opportunity to see his very own herd of dairy cows. "Cherise! I saw my own cows!" His smile was worth my herd not being good enough!! (20:10)

Excitement picks up as we enter Rome! "Meno male" I have the security of having been here before and the tiny bit of confidence I have accumulated because of it. (20:24)

So we made it to Rome and miraculously got to our hotel. Well, not miraculously but the place gave us good directions from Termini and after taking a bit of a detour, we made it. Unfortunately the guy didn't receive my email asking to arrive late and we had to enter by way of another couple. Before the door of "Casa Giada" which is merely a remodeled apartment of 4 rooms in an apartment building of all sorts of other places and residences, I came this close to phoning a friend in Rome when the guy showed up! Phew. The room is nice and we are located so so close to the Vatican! Even though it was late, our tummies demanded food so we found a nearby restaurant and now, after returning, we are taking turns with the shower and hitting the sack. We hope to see many great things these two short days in Rome! (23:31 Casa Giada)

Okay so day one in Rome. Where to start? Lines. We waited in lines so much today. First to enter into St. Peter's Basilica where we attended mass and viewed it, and then to climb to the top of its Cupola! And boy did that staircase get a bit tight?! For all the waiting we did, I was actually a bit disappointed with the destination. There were so many people jam packed up there that it was difficult to enjoy and I honestly just wanted to get started on the way back down. But we snapped some pictures and soaked in the German being spoken all around us by the group of German youth that surrounded us. We finished these two seemingly simple things by around 1:00 pm but started a little before 9:00 am.
Next we found some lunch before making our way to St. Mary Major and the Church of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. In St. Mary Major, we attended 45 minutes of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and sang Vespers. It was very beautiful with the incense and organ as well as very needed after a long, hot morning. In the Church of our Mother of Perpetual Help, I enjoyed a closer view of the icon to the Marian Devotion that I hold so dear. We then grabbed some cold ones at a nearby bar where we plotted our evening. After waiting as Brandon bought a Redbull (mistake #1) and then giving him the map (mistake #2), "we" (cough-he-cough) decided to WALK to the Pantheon (doable) and then back to the hotel (WHAT?!). But guess what?! We made it! But only after seeing all we had planned as well as the alive and hoppin' Piazza Navona, governmental-looking district with all of its Italian security offices, and stopping to eat at a quaint little place that housed our many laughing fits. Walking across the bridge towards the Castello d'Angelo, I had a thought I considered brilliant at the time and wanted to share with y'all! I think that the way people take pictures can tell you a lot about them. I will use my parents for an example. Dad likes to zoom in on the people and ignore the scenery. For him, the people are most important, especially the faces as they convey the emotion of the person and are generally the key to how the person feels or what the person is thinking in a given moment. Mom, on the other hand, likes to get the whole picture (even if that means the people are almost minuscule). She likes to get it just right and capture the moment as perfect as possible for all involved which is evident in the care and patience with which she takes the picture almost always counting to 3 before.
Picking up some gelato and a bag of assorted cookies for breakfast tomorrow, we headed to here to shower and hit the hay! We aim to visit both the Vatican museums and colosseum tomorrow and need to get an early start! Wish us well! Only one long day on our feet and a long day on our butt separates us from home now! (00:24 Casa Giada)

Last day in Rome - 9 Agosto
Today we awoke decently early and set out to the line for the Vatican museum. Unfortunately, the guys trying to get us to dish out loads of extra money to skip the lines and listen to them talk about the exhibits inside were right: we waited around 2.5 hours! BUT, I enjoyed catching up with the parents about various things going on at home and the time passed relatively quickly. Inside the museums, we saw many MANY things. It is almost impossible, I'd say, to read about each thing and see it all. We stayed for a good couple of hours and didn't really focus on learning as much as seeing. My favorite part was actually the rooms and structure itself rather than

the artifacts. I liked reading about the different rooms to learn who had inhabited them, when, and with what styles they were constructed. Ironically, being that his controversial papacy was arguably one of the worst, I loved seeing the Borgia Apartments and our taste in style (Gothic) matched perfectly. I love the structures (churches) that are painted inside with dark hues of blues, reds, purples, greens, etc. I love the richness and the warmth of this type of style. I also loved seeing the Sistine Chapel even though it was crowded and noisy (mainly because there were guards announcing "Silenzio!" Into a microphone every few minutes).
In the afternoon, we grabbed our bags from the hotel, dropped them off at the baggage depository in Termini Station and headed to the Colosseum-or as my father so fondly referred to it: "the big thing." Before entering the stage of the Gladiators and naval re-enactments however, we avoided the long line by beginning at the Palantine Hill and Roman Forum. All of it was so unreal! To truly be there where the Romans lived their everyday lives. Wow. And the colosseum. It was massive! What a site to see!

After, we started to head towards the church I had looked up for Saturday vigil mass. Along the way, we wanted to pick up gelato. It was about 5:30 and we wanted to catch a 6:30 mass so we needed to eat right away. However, we couldn't find any gelaterrias (we're in Rome - strange right?). So when we finally stumbled upon the church, we decided to double check the time since the internet isn't the most reliable source (I know, surprise right?). And good thing we did because it turns out that "mass isn't held Saturday evenings during August. (Ok?) but we were given directions to another church and hurried over. In Rome just about every other building is a church so finding it wasn't an issue. However this one also didn't have the mass we were looking for. At this point I got a bit desperate because this mass was to count for Sunday since we are traveling all day tomorrow. Knowing that our intentions were to go, I trusted in the Lord and continued to ask Him to give us a mass to attend. At the same time, I was worried about our bags because we had to retrieve them before 11 pm. I didn't want to be rushed in our last meal if we ended up at a mass that didn't start until 7 pm. Hearing church bells (it was 5:45 pm) we continued to walk until we were in front of what we thought was the papal basilica St. John Lateran. Seeing gates closed all around it our faces fell. How can all three churches we looked at not have a Saturday vigil mass? This is Rome for crying out loud!! So, thinking to continue towards the church with mass at 7 pm, we crossed the street and walked around to the "back" of St. John Lateran and lo and behold, THAT was the basilica and there was mass at 6! It was perfect! The Lord takes such good care of us!
Then we wondered around for a bit in search of food and ended up taking the metro back to termini and eating in that vicinity near our bags and transportation to the airport. Ending with a final gelato

(mine was awesome: Creme Caramel) we headed to the station to get our bags and jump on the 10:10 bus to the airport. Coming to the bus stop with our bags I realize that 10:10 in Italy means AM and there are no longer buses running. Just when I thought we were home free from "adventures" like this, we found a new dilemma. But, after some debate and argument, we "agreed" to take a taxi which got us at the airport around an hour ago. Now we wait to check in and eventually board our flights which are both around 7 am. Here's to "sleeping" our last night in Rome in an airport and having safe travels back home!

Things I've learned from this trip: being organizer and leading the way is hard! I don't know how my parents did it all those years with me and Brandon as kids. All I remember is going along without any cares in the world which I think was their experience this time. When I was stressing and running around trying to get train tickets or my map pointed the right direction, they were looking around and taking in the surroundings of a foreign country. In a way, I think we've both been given a gift. Brandon and I got to see what it's like (in a sense) playing the parent role as far as leading the vacation goes. This allows us to appreciate more all that our parents have done and do for us. And for my parents, they were able to enjoy the trip without worry, stress, or the weight of providing the "perfect experience" like they have in the past. They merely got to go with the flow and enjoy it all. Now of course the roles weren't black and white and there were certainly moments when Brandon and I went to the parents for help or advice but overall, I am very overjoyed with the week we had. For me, it means the end of a dream summer in Italy and a return to my home which I love and miss. Miss Italy I will but to be home will be so beautiful and in these last days, I've felt an increasing tug in my heart towards Texas. And what good timing because bright and early tomorrow morning, I'm heading for home! (01:12 Fiumincino Airport).

And after unsuccessfully sleeping and deciding to charge my gadgets, I found out I was in the wrong terminal! Mine is different then Brandon, Mom, and Dad's! (04:04)

In ten minutes I have to get on the plane and leave Italy. My stomach is in knots. It's actually quite similar to the feeling I had before the flight I took here. I don't want to go. There's no denying that but I long to be home. There's no denying that either. Above all else, though, all I can think right now is "Lord, You are so good to me." (6:14 FCO Terminal 1 Gate B9)

And now I know why boarding started so early for my flight to the US. Security is tight! The line was long, I was asked a series of questions, and many people (not me thankfully) were taken to the side and patted down. Then I had to fill out the Customs Report. I don't know the worth of stuff in my luggage more less the names of everything, but I didn't buy much so that made it easier. The airport itself is also huge here in Paris. I had to go through a lot to get to my gate but easily made it in time and got my passport stamped! Whoop!
I'm not sure the length of this flight. It's hard to tell with the time change but I'm short on sleep so I'm thinking that's the first agenda. I'm also quite hungry so I hope I don't sleep through lunch. That would be awful!!! In any case, I am definitely planning on watching a movie or some tv! And it will be in English! How revolutionary for me this summer and how weird. But also how much more relaxing! I won't have to constantly focus in order to remotely understand. I'll probably be able to understand without even trying. It's crazy how you notice the ease of your own language when in combat with another.
Next to me is a French woman reading a book in English. I know she's French and going to NY because of her Customs Report and not because we talked passed "hi". I'm so shy and bad with this kind of stuff and now it feels too late to offer my name or ask a general question. Maybe later...let's get some rest shall we?! (10:36 on the Delta plane, Paris France)

11:02 - 11 Agosto
So I had an item confiscated by customs: my recycled water bottle filled with Roman water. I also saw a guy in boots for the first time in over 2 months. But most exciting of all, I sat by an Aggie on the plane to Dallas, and we talked the whole way back! That's what I'm talking about: Texan and Aggie friendliness!
Landing in Dallas was a bit weird. I could use my phone normally, nothing (I mean NOTHING) was in Italian, and the airport employees greeted me with "welcome home" (how'd you know?! :)). But regardless of all of the English, I keep speaking Italian -especially "grazie". It's just habit now I guess. With the French airplane crew, I defaulted into Italian when they greeted me in French rather than in English but even at the On the Border in Dallas (had to get some Tex-Mex in me) I thanked the hostess on the way out with "grazie"! Oh Italian - how I miss you so.
We stayed the night at Brandon's house due to jet lag and all slept very well. I went to mass this morning and two things happened that haven't in awhile: (1) I drove! (2) it was all in English and I understood without deep, almost painful concentration!! And the mass here. It's so organized. People kneel, stand, sit, respond all at the same time and go to communion in an ordered fashion. It's almost too civilized. I had begun to enjoy the Italian mass which reminded me of how heaven meets earth and our broken humanity at each mass. Today is the feast of St. Clare. How appropriate since her and Francis guided me this summer and I loved my two visits to Assisi.

I suppose the trip has come to a close but I am sure that our adventure as a family will never end just as it didn't first begin with my parents landing in Italy.

We are so goofy and I love it!!