Newsletter Update December 2020

 

31 December 2020

Dear Family and Friends!

And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us,

and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only-begotten Son, full of grace and truth.

-John 1:14 

              Merry Christmas (it is still Christmas season you know!)…and Happy New Year (almost!). The six normal months have passed since my last newsletter update but they were a far from normal 6 months. The world has been in and out of health and economic crisis and in and out of lockdown because of COVID-19. And yet…on December 25 we celebrated Christmas: the birth of Jesus; God made Flesh; God who desires to be so close to us that He assumes our human nature in all things but sin. He is the Light in the darkness of our world and no matter the suffering or the struggle, if we truly seek to “walk by faith and not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7) we can say with St. John in the prologue of his gospel: “we saw his glory…full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). In this brief newsletter update I hope to share with you where I saw His glory this year underlying important events, sharing a story, opening my heart, and inviting you to pray with me for some special intentions.

Important Events

-          In October I started my final year of my undergrad in Theology (I’m already in my 5^th year here in Rome!!)

-          I began a new apostolate at a parish here in Rome where I work with a group of university students and post-university young people.

-          I celebrated my year anniversary of consecration and renewed my promises of chastity, poverty, and obedience with my sisters here in Rome for the first time on Dec 8.

-          Sr. Tiziana had her surgery to help with her Parkinson’s Disease on Dec 9 and is currently in a rehabilitation center in the hospital.

-           (Sr.) Briana was consecrated as an Apostle of the Interior Life here in Rome on Dec 12.

Story Time

              On October 25 my daily life underwent an extraordinary change that no one saw coming. I accompanied one of my sisters to the hospital to get a routine COVID test before being recovered for an operation she had been long waiting for. The immediate result was negative (as we had hoped and predicted) and so we happily returned home where we had Sunday Mass in the chapel with Fr. Salvatore (our 94-year-old founder) and lunch with three other of our sisters. My afternoon was rather normal although I admit that I felt the need of more rest than usual. In the evening I decided to take my temperature just to be sure since we had heard of different COVID cases close to home recently. I was astonished to see such a high number and took it another time. As I was waiting for the second measurement my sister who I had accompanied to the hospital that morning barged in to announce that the hospital called to say that her test results were actually positive and that they had made a mistake earlier. In that same moment the thermometer confirmed my high fever. In the brief silence that followed the four of us sisters in the house exchanged gazes. Little did we know that it would be the last time we’d see each other in person without masks for almost a month.

              I don’t have a lot of experience of being sick but the next few days really seemed like being at home with the flu. The difference? I was confined to my room and deprived of all physical human contact. Our doctor was called and sent the necessary medicines. I heeded his advice to rest and spent a lot of time in bed. Classes were offered online but for the first few days I couldn’t manage to stay upright for too long because of the back pain and soreness I was experiencing. I remember a certain somberness at the thought of having COVID. Although it was not yet confirmed by an official test, I struggled hoping for it not to be true. There was a clouded silence that hung over me as I slowly processed and accepted that I probably had the virus that many feared; the virus that others refused to acknowledge; the virus that caused Italy to be in lockdown from March through May; the virus that prevented me from going home this year; the virus that claimed many lives all over the world; the virus that was still so new that it was hard to know if it should scare us because of its danger or just frustrate us because of its inconvenience. From one day to the next I had to cancel commitments, live all my relationships through the mediation of a computer or phone screen, and adjust to a life enclosed in the four walls of my bedroom (luckily of a decent size).

              For the next 4 weeks or so everything happened in basically one space. One space for study, rest, exercise, prayer, recreation… One space for thinking, feeling, desiring, wondering, hoping… One space for living. I suddenly found myself immersed in a new silence. A silence both in sound and in movement. On one hand I had a lot more time since there was no more commuting to do in any shape or form. On the other hand, I discovered how capable I was at “wasting” time and not getting much of anything done (especially in that first week). I also discovered how often I divide my spaces according to the present activity. My desk was where I studied (and “went” to online school), my bed was where I rested, my mat was where I exercised…but slowly, in the new silence, I began to hear a familiar Voice inviting me into a new wholeness. It was the voice of the Lord inviting me to live every moment with Him, to allow His presence to unite the space I was so tempted to divide. As I began to pray all my 4 hours of daily prayer in my room, His presence did become more tangible in that space. My dialogue with Him was no longer limited to my formal moments of prayer but also extended to my moments of study, rest, and exercise.

At the same time, I had the joy of being accompanied by my sisters even if by a new distance. We continued to pray together, eat together, and do recreation together with the help of Zoom and WhatsApp. We were extra careful to disinfect anything we touched outside of our own rooms and learned to smile at each other with our eyes when our paths crossed in the hallway. We created a habit of honesty where we could share how we were living the isolation without judgment or the presumption that the other would know how to help. Communication became a strong force against desperation and sadness. We discovered that unity is far from being established solely by physical contact.

When I was finally “freed” by a negative COVID test result, I attended the earliest Mass in the area and had a flashback to my high school days when I regularly attended the 7am daily Mass in my home town. The familiarity of walking out in a world still just waking up, starting off my day with the most important encounter, and leaving the church to find myself in a world fully awake and bustling with normal people doing their normal daily things was the best gift the Lord could have given me.

I realize that my experience of COVID was different than that of many others. I thank God that He allowed me to have very few symptoms that lasted for a small amount of time. I also thank Him that He accompanied me with the grace of His presence in my space of isolation and through my sisters who never left me alone. I continue to pray for those who have had a more difficult experience or will have one in the future. May God bless them, remain close to them, and may an end to this pandemic come soon.

Where is my heart?        

              As we embark on the year 2021, my heart feels the weight of 2020. Although I have much to thank God for and know that many experienced greater difficulties than me, I can’t help but feel that my presence is more conditioned than usual by the year that is becoming “the past”. I feel the time not spent with family (not having gone home), I feel the time spent alone (having been in self isolation with COVID), I feel the awkwardness of not knowing how to act in a group of people, I feel the lack of physical contact (hugs, handshakes, pats on the back, squeezing into a single church pew with my sisters, crowded spaces…), and I feel the great loss experienced by many (even if not by me personally). After months of new government announcements and COVID restrictions, I feel the tension between wanting to follow “the rule” and desiring “rebellion” in some shape or form.

              At the same time my heart is also filled with hope: hope in the goodness of man and man’s capacity for love. I refuse to put too much pressure on 2021, as if it must be the redemption of 2020, but I do hope that the transformation that man has undergone in 2020, the experiences had, the sufferings endured, the pain of loss, and the recognition of the difference one small glance or gesture of goodwill can have, will cause 2021 to be a new breath of fresh air. My heart desires to live more deeply in the present moment. My heart is renewed in its belief in the importance and power of the little encounters we have in the simplicity of our daily life. Like Joseph and Mary in those 30 years of hidden life in Nazareth, we are called to a continual discovery of God through the revelation of Jesus. And how did Jesus reveal God in those 30 years if not through simple acts of love: a joke to spread laughter, a helping hand in the kitchen, a gaze just to let the other know of his presence and support… My heart desires to live that way too and to not discount the greatness of the littleness of life at home, life at work, life in the streets…life behind the scenes.         

Prayer Intentions

-          For Sr. Tiziana who is in rehabilitation in the hospital where she had her operation that should help with her Parkinson’s disease. She should be returning home this month of January.

-          For my work on my thesis that I am doing for my final year of Theological Study.

-          For the exams from our first semester which will happen at the end of January and the beginning of February.

-          For my 28^th birthday on February 10.

-          For my mom’s birthday on March 2.

-          For Shepherd (my 2-year-old nephew)’s baptism anniversary on March 16.

-          For Brandon and Jen (my brother and sister-in-law)’s 4^th wedding anniversary on March 25.

-          For Fr. Salvatore (our founder)’s anniversary of ordination on March 29: 69 years a priest!

-          For Jen who is pregnant with my second nephew or niece (don’t know yet if the news is public on it being a girl or a boy): he/she is due in early May.

-          For the young people with whom I do apostolate here in Rome and for our apostolic initiatives in 2021.

-          For my final exams that will happen in June and the defense of my thesis (I will not be sending my mid-year update before I finish).

Pictures

 

The Apostles born in the 90s

singing the psalm at Briana's consecration

online recreation during COVID

Briana's consecration

American Family of the Apostles (almost all)

United always in Him,

Sr. Cherise

 

 

 

Lead, Kindly Light

The above pictured candle has burned on two occasions: my baptism (March 7, 1993) and my consecration (December 7, 2019).

I count it as a special gift, that my sister Kalin chose my baptismal candle as that which would be the symbol of the consecrated life during the Mass in which I gave myself to the Lord as His bride.

It is a candle that I grew up with. Not only symbolically, in the sense that it was present since the beginning of my Christian journey but also practically: it was always on display in my bedroom. The famous candle that was never again lit…until the day of my consecration!

To have these two most important events of my life connected through a common candle is not necessary but a nice touch. The events would have been connected anyways through something much more profound: their nature. It is in our baptism that the seed of our vocation is planted. A vocation that is first and foremost a call to love God and neighbor. A love that, with time, takes on its own unique form, in some shaping into marriage and in others, as in my case, into consecrated life. And it is through this vocation that we continue to live ever more fully and more personally the promises of our baptism.

As I reflect on this first year of consecration, I find within me a desire to be led by the light of that candle. The light that represents the Light of Christ that has shone long before my existence and will shine on long after. The Light that gave life to a candle of a baby girl not yet aware of the loving gaze of the Father that would bring her to the altar 26 years and 9 months later as a living offering to the Son with the promises of Chastity, Poverty, and Obedience that she is able to live only with the help of the Spirit.

Today, in thanksgiving and praise, I make mine the beautiful words of St. John Henry Newman.

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

 

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou

Shouldst lead me on;

I loved to choose and see my path; but now

Lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,

Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

 

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on.

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone,

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

 

Meantime, along the narrow rugged path,

Thyself hast trod,

Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,

Home to my God.

To rest forever after earthly strife

In the calm light of everlasting life.

Rejoice, o hearts that seek the Lord

Rejoice, o hearts that seek the Lord –Psalm 105

This psalm from yesterday’s Liturgy made me reflect a lot. “Rejoice o hearts that seek the Lord”. The psalmist does not say “o hearts that find, or have, the Lord”. He clearly specifies hearts that are in search of the Lord.

This concept of seeking the Lord has been on my heart for some time now. There are other psalms quite similar: “those who seek the Lord lack no good thing” (Psalm 34:10). And one can’t help but notice the frequency that the psalms encourage the seeking of the Lord, His face, His righteousness, His refuge…

What strikes me is that it seems to be so contrary to human logic. I am usually most happy when I find what I am looking for. When I am still seeking or trying to find something, I am often anxious, worried, or excited but not yet satisfied… So where does this joy come from? Why would the psalmist urge the heart to rejoice while it is still seeking the Lord? And what does it mean to seek the Lord?

I think there are multiple ways to answer these questions and so I will just simply share with you some of the answers that have come to my heart in prayer.

I don’t know that we can ever say to have “found” or “fully possessed” the Lord. He is a mystery (“infinitely knowable” as a past spiritual director of mine once said) and so our encounters with Him are destined to satisfy us and yet leave us with an ever growing desire for more. I repeat, He satisfies us. Our desire for more is not a desire motivated by lack but a desire motivated by love. So to seek the Lord is to love Him, and love makes the heart rejoice!

We can rejoice in seeking the Lord (and not only in “finding” Him) because we know Him who we are seeking. When I know that I am going to see a dear friend in the evening, my whole day is filled with joy at the thought of that encounter. In some ways my heart is already seeking that friend and therefore rejoicing in our future meeting. And so too with the Lord. I know the Lord to be the One who first loved me. He created me because He wanted me; He desired and loved me into existence. I need never doubt His desire to encounter me. And my life is a journey towards forever with Him. So my joy in seeking Him is not conditioned by whether or not I feel His presence now. (Even though that is of course often my desire.) My joy is full because I know that I am seeking Him who first seeks me. I am seeking the One that I am sure to find. He Himself promises so: When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me… (Jer 29:13-14).

But to seek the Lord…what does that look like? Certainly, prayer comes to mind. Yes, we seek the Lord in prayer. But even more than isolated moments of silence in our day or daily reading of Scripture, is the psalmist not encouraging us to seek God always…in everything? Here, more than answers I have questions…for you, for myself. Do I seek the face of God in the faces of those I meet each day? Do I seek His face in my own reflection? Do I seek His will in the decisions, even small, that I must make in my daily life? Do I seek to sincerely believe that He is present even in those situations that seem most difficult and lost? Do I seek to trust that He will bring good out of all things, even the conflict and suffering so common in our world? Do I seek to just be with Him, whether I am filled with joy or filled with sorrow? Do I seek Him to say “good morning” or “good night”? Do I seek Him to say “thank you” or “please help me”? Do I seek Him as the God that He is, and therefore seek Him for everything that relates to my life – the life He freely and lovingly chose to give me? Does my heart rejoice when I seek Him in these ways?

I believe that the heart that seeks the Lord rejoices because it is a heart that knows that the Lord is there. It is a heart that knows, in some way, to already “have” the Lord. It is a heart that trusts in God’s love, that depends on it, counts on it. It is a heart that, even when it does not feel it, knows to be enveloped in the presence of the Lord…always. It is a heart that imitates its God who is always the first to seek, to love.

When we seek the Lord, our heart is not spread out in seeking millions of other things. Our heart is whole, united in itself and undivided. And it rejoices because it knows that in seeking only the Lord - the one thing necessary - there is the promise of finding all that is good. 

A heart that seeks the Lord is a heart that loves the Lord, and a heart that loves is a heart that rejoices.

Rejoice, o hearts that seek the Lord!

July: a month with St. Francis

July, the month in which I am usually in the mountains with my community: hitting the trails, breathing in the fresh mountain air, soaking up the sun near hidden lakes, and making memories and creating stronger bonds with my sisters. July, the month in which my heart begins to long to see family and my beautiful Texas landscape knowing that the time to travel home is near.

This July - July in the year 2020 - the July when I had a flight booked for home which I waited until just a few days before to cancel hoping that the COVID-19 cases would decrease in Texas allowing safe travel and stay. The July in which, instead of fresh mountain air, I regularly breathed in the slightly less than normally polluted air of a city recently “freed” from lockdown. The July when, instead of with 24, I found myself living with an ever decreasing amount of sisters, few of which remained constant throughout. And…the July in which I found myself surrounded by St. Francis of Assisi.  

La Verna

I don’t think anyone would argue that this past month has been filled with much that was unexpected. Perhaps the tendency would be to list off only those negative unexpected things but today I want to share about some unexpected goodness, beauty, and joy that the Lord has gifted with me in these past 31 days through a well-known saint: St. Francis.

To start off well, I entered into the month of July while on my annual Spiritual Exercises. Spiritual Exercises are exactly as their name sounds: a time of intense exercise in our spiritual life. It is a time – usually 5 to 7 days – in which one dedicates the majority of their attention, energy, and focus to prayer and entering into an encounter with God. This year I was accompanied by two of my sisters, Clara and Loredana, to Monteluco of Spoleto where a Franciscan Convent of friars welcomed us, hosted us, made sure we were well fed, and led us in our 5 days of silence. As many Franciscan convents in north-central Italy, this one is on the sight of where St. Francis himself would have tread.

From the lookout - Monteluco of Spoleto

St. Francis had quite the habit of choosing peaceful and nature filled places for his prayer. The most famous Franciscan sights are up on a hill with a spectacular look out over the valley below and near a wooded area filled with many small trails leading to nooks and hidden places conducive for a moment of silent prayer. Monteluco was no exception.

In the quiet days spent in this convent, I was struck once again by the simplicity and calm that often represents the Franciscan style of living. The steady rhythm of manual labor – mostly gardening – that I witnessed by the friars and their postulants (young men in their first year of formation towards becoming Franciscan friars), reminded me of my own heart’s attraction to simplicity and action that may not be swift but is always intentional and diligent. They seemed not to be bothered by many worries and distractions during their work but present to what was, literally, “at hand”.

Another noun with which St. Francis is often associated is poverty. Those days in silence reminded me that poverty is not misery but rather living with what is merely essential and not bombarding oneself with that which is extra and superfluous. I’ve been inspired to downsize: to thank the Lord for all that He has given me through various benefactors, family, and friends, and to see what is essential for me and what is instead extra that could be essential for someone else in need.  

After these Spiritual Exercises, I returned home with a heart full of the gifts the Lord granted me and these small reflections on simplicity and poverty inspired by St. Francis and the men who follow his way of life still today.

My next Franciscan adventure occurred just a few weeks later in the form of a gita comunitaria (community trip) to La Verna – the sight where St. Francis received the stigmata. The stigmata are the wounds of the crucified Christ. St. Francis was the first to receive them and the Franciscan friar who shared with us the story of this great event considered it more than anything else a gift of love by part of God who heard and answered St. Francis’s prayer to really experience Christ’s love for him. And as Jesus Himself put it in St. John’s Gospel, what greater love is there than one who lays day His life for His friends (Jn 15:13). St. Francis was allowed this grace of experiencing the suffering behind the love of Christ for all of humanity and uniquely for him.

Gita Comunitaria to La Verna

The greatest joy I experienced at La Verna, however, was not directly linked to this episode of the receiving of the stigmata, for as much as it is important to the place. What most struck me was the experience we had of the marvels of nature. Beyond all that has already been said about Monteluco – the hill with a beautiful view down below and a wooded area with trails and nooks for prayer – which was all present at La Verna as well, my sisters and I witnessed something which can only be attributed to the hands of a loving Creator with a childlike heart who delights in the rejoicing of His children.

One evening as we were leaving the Shrine in darkness one of my sisters began to point out some flickering lights in the woods. Upon closer inspection, we all immediately agreed on its source: lightening bugs. All of a sudden my heart was brought back to many years ago in my backyard at home when lightening bugs (or fireflies if you prefer) were much more common in the summer evenings. I remember chasing them around and just marveling at them. After a brief pause we continued to walk towards the car smiling, laughing, and pointing out all that we saw. Then, one of my sisters, I don’t exactly remember who, brought everybody’s attention to the other side of the trail. Up until that point we had been looking up along the side of the hill to our left but she was now directing our attention down the valley to our right – and boy am I ever glad that she did that!

There to our right was a sight that I have never seen nor do I ever dream of having the joy to see again. There was not only a handful of lightening bugs sporadically flickering in and out of the wooded shrubs but a whole community worth. A city of lightening bugs, perhaps thousands, creating a spectacle that man could only dream of being able to imitate. It was somewhat similar to a Christmas lights show, or the many twinkling stars in the dark night sky, or perhaps even the lights of a far off city – and yet it was none of these and so much more!

Clara and I were the last to head to the car as we could hardly tear our eyes away of such a wondrous sight. I was immediately invited into a reflection on community life. Each lightening bug does relatively little when you think about it. Its light lasts for just a fraction of a second before going out and needing to be turned on again. So the single by itself, in comparison with the whole, really doesn’t seem all that impressive. However, the whole – in all of its beauty and glory – would literally be nothing without each and every effort, no matter how small or short lived, of each and every single lightening bug. Each one of us must do our part to make our light shine even if in just little spurts, in order to create a masterpiece of sparkling lights. And not only this. We must also do our part to help others shine their light, or rather, to help others allow the light of Christ to shine in them. In this way, others, like my sisters and me that evening, will be caught dead in their tracks before the beauty of life lived genuinely in communal love and harmony.

My final Franciscan experience of this month occurred over a weekend in which we hiked to and explored different Franciscan sights in what is often referred to as La Valle Santa Rietana (the holy valley of Rieti). The different places we visited each had a unique meaning for St. Francis: at Poggio Bustone he encountered the forgiveness of God, at the Shrine of the Forest he encountered the reality of providence, at Fonte Colombo he wrote the Franciscan Rule of Life, and at Greccio he created the first ever nativity scene.

With Clara on the trail
near Greccio.

In this weekend Clara and I accompanied a group of young people and three priests from a parish where our community does some apostolate. What I learned from St. Francis and these young people in these short 2 days was the beauty and joy of fraternity. Again I found myself in the hills overlooking beautiful fields and valleys or walking through trails in the woods but this time the difference was in the company. I was no longer alone with the silence of my Spiritual Exercises at Monteluco of Spoleto, I was not only with my sisters as I was at La Verna…no, this time I was walking side by side with perfect strangers who the Lord was giving me the great joy to discover and share with. In this experience I was reminded that the fraternal life is not based on how much a group of people have in common but rather how much love and patience each single is willing to offer to the others. The young people were very open and welcoming to me, taking an interest in me, being patient with my accent and lack of vocabulary at times and including me in moments of games and sharing. I look forward to the possibility of working more with them this coming year.

In the end, this July - July in the year of 2020 – has been for me a month with St. Francis. I would have never expected this month or perhaps even desired it but yet I feel as if all things are just as they should be and that the Lord is using even these recent difficulties of life – that the whole world is experiencing – to bring about great good and peace. Although I have caught myself a time or two daydreaming in “what-ifs” – community hikes in the mountains or playing with my 1 and a half year old nephew – I can honestly say that my heart is at peace and full of joy and gratitude. I choose to take a hint and seek to live this next month, which will also be different than all of the Augusts before it, following in the footsteps of St. Francis: in simplicity and poverty, marveling at the beauties of nature, and patiently loving the people God places in my day to day life.

St. Francis, pray for us!

Newsletter Update: July 2020

12 July 2020

Dear Family and Friends!

Here we are a little later than usual. I finished my exams on June 23 but soon after left off for a week of spiritual exercises which I spent in silence without access to technology or internet. I also recently had a lot of last minute changes in my plans as we decided to no longer travel home to Texas due to the increasing COVID-19 cases. And even though I should have been in the States by now and therefore didn’t have anything planned here in Rome, I’ve still managed to find things to keep me busy. But finally, here I am setting on the couch indulging in Sunday leisure by writing y’all this email.

Important Events

-          The month of July – unexpected extra community time here in Rome

-          August 1 – my parents 33^rd wedding anniversary

-          August 31 – my brother Brandon’s 31^st birthday

-          September 4 – my dad’s birthday

-          October: start of a new school year with hopes of being physically present in the classroom

-          December 12: Consecration of Briana

Story Time

                For everyone, this year has brought some new unique challenges. For us here in Rome, March was the start of a lockdown that would dominate just about all of the spring season. As Apostles of the Interior Life, a large part of our life is dedicated to apostolate: our mission of evangelization and offering spiritual formation. Because of the lockdown we had to postpone indefinitely many events that were scheduled to be had in person including a Retreat for Young People at the end of March.

                To talk about these new challenges and how we wanted to live this time of lockdown regarding our mission, which we felt could not be put on hold, we had a meeting quickly after lockdown was announced. In this meeting Catherine mentioned something that, at first, was just a passing thought for most of us: what if we do an online retreat?

                On online retreat…what would that even look like? Is it possible? Our retreats are usually very relational. Welcoming the retreatants when they arrive, sharing meals together, having a recreation evening of games or skits, and just mingling in between moments of prayer are all a very big part of our events. How were we to translate all of this into a virtual experience?

                Clearly we had to consider rearranging certain parts of our normal retreats and even just letting go of others but this idea of an online retreat seemed to appeal to all of us. It also seemed to be exactly what the Lord was asking of us at the moment as well as what many people that we knew – who were now basically home bound – really needed. When we decided to offer this online retreat, we thought we knew what we were getting into and the work that was going to be required of us. Boy were we underestimating the situation! It also must be noted that we aren’t very good at “settling”. We like to dream big and go for the best that we can offer. I would say that this is a good characteristic of the community but obviously has its pros and cons and can sometimes tempt us to pull all-nighters in order to get a website up and running for an online retreat!

Ready to go! Catherine and Kate were our MC's!

                We were right about it being what the people needed – or at least wanted. We had around 270 participants signed up and others trying to sign up after the deadline! The moment we logged into Zoom and saw the participants arriving for the first session was a moment that I will never forget. What a sensation to see the faces (although rather small on the screen) of friends, relatives, and even strangers all present and eager to start this new experience. Our living room was like the set of a daytime talk show: one side had everything organized and camera ready and the other was cluttered with papers, talk outlines, props, computers, and extra cables.

                The theme of the retreat was really rather simple: home. In three moments of meditation we considered the home of the heart/prayer, the home of our family, and the home with others who we normally meet in our everyday life. We were able to be in contact with a priest friend of ours who celebrated the Mass via Zoom (the churches were closed at the time), had moments of group sharing, and even were able play charades for our recreation night!

                At the end of the retreat our bodies were super tired but our hearts so very full of joy and satisfaction. It was truly a community effort as everyone pitched in to make this event – absolutely new to us – not only possible but fruitful! We received really positive feedback and requests for similar events. And so although we have not had the courage to do another full retreat in this way, we have found a new form of living our mission online with live meditations and moments of group sharing via Zoom. It is beautiful to see how the Lord gives us the means to live our mission in all circumstances and this has confirmed for us the importance of our mission and the fact that He is guiding us in it!

Our goodbye to the retreatants!

Where is my heart?

               

                So obviously my heart has been experiencing lots of changes in the recent weeks. From the time we bought our plane tickets to go home we knew things weren’t yet final, and when I returned from my spiritual exercises, just a few days before my scheduled flight, it was clear to us all that it was not the time to make such a trip with the state of things in the US in general and in Texas in particular. Oddly enough, even though I was saddened to not be headed home to my family, I must share that a wave of peace came over me. Once the decision was made and the ticket cancelled I felt like I could relax and just live in the present moment with tranquility and even joy.

                In these days since that decision, I’ve enjoyed time in community and the opportunity to work on some projects that I’ve had on my to-do list for some time now. I feel that the Lord is showing me how I can find a rest similar to what I would usually experience at home even here in Rome without changing location – which is often a huge part of entering into “vacation mode”.

                I hope to answer generously to His call to be present to my other sisters here with me and available to just “waste” time together: something that the rest of the year doesn’t seem to allow much of. I have plans to not have too many plans and just live day by day in the simplicity of everyday life that at this time does not include study or other activities that keep us busy in other moments of the year.

                My heart feels grateful for the gift of His peace and the grace to accept reality as it is, embracing unexpected joys and seizing new opportunities as they come.  

               

Prayer Intentions

-          Please pray for me and my family: that we accept with peace and joy when the Lord will allow us to see each other in person.

-          For Briana in here final months of preparation for her consecration on December 12.

-          For my community of the Apostles of the Interior Life: that the summer meetings being held lead to a fruitful pastoral year in 2020-2021.

-          For the young women in formation (Briana, Catherine, Alexa, Kate, Sarah, and Liz): for each of their individual journeys of formation and particularly for Sarah and Liz who should have been in Rome by now but because of COVID-19 were unable to get a student visa.

-          For two young women who will be volunteering with us this year in the US: that their hearts be open to hearing God’s voice and that He may make it clear to them His will for them.

-          For different parents of our sisters who have been experiencing health issues in the recent months: that if it be God’s will they may experience complete healing and that regardless of the outcome they and their families may live this time with peace and trust in the Lord.

-          For my final year of Theology: that I may always study with those who I will serve in mind and that I may live this final year with joy and gratitude for the great opportunity and privilege that it is to be able to study in this way.

 Other Pictures from the year

First time at the Mass for Consecrated Life
with the Pope as a consecrated woman!

A trip to the theater with Sr. Clara's mom!

A winter trip to l'Aquila during Sarah's visit in Rome

United always in Him,

Sr. Cherise

 

Six months a Bride of Christ

Six months as a consecrated. Six months a Bride of Christ.

I can hardly believe that already half a year has passed since that beautiful day of my consecration. It seems to have gone by so fast and yet it almost seems a lifetime since I entered fully into the union with Christ that I had been so long desiring.

With what ease I transitioned into being completely His. Certainly I am helped by the fact that not so many things about my life exteriorly have changed. I still belong to the same community and live in the same house with the same sisters in the same Eternal City of Rome. I remain a theology student with classes to attend and exams to take. I continue to do daily chores and, as everyone else, am conditioned by what is happening in the world around me – like with the coronavirus for example. 

I don’t deny that change has occurred. I certainly see within myself and the way I live a qualitative shift. I may continue to do many of the same things, but I now do them all as a Bride of Christ. I still wake up and see the same sleepy face in the mirror every morning but now looking back at me is a woman who is consecrated – set apart – for the Lord. Every now and then I find myself playing with the rosary ring that is now being worn on my left ring finger as a sign of this total belonging to Another and the commitment I have made. Sometimes I like to just look at it and smile thinking: wow we really did it. I’m really Yours. And You are really mine.

But what most fills my heart is that which hasn’t changed. Along with those exterior things listed above, I can also add that I still have my same defects, imperfections, tendency towards mistakes and sin. I still struggle with the same temptations and find myself asking for forgiveness for the same things over and over again. One might be tempted to despair at this: shouldn’t I be different, better, now that I am consecrated? Perhaps the answer is “yes”, and I hope that with time I will continue to grow as we all must. But I find most comfort answering with “no”. I don’t have to be different so automatically. Instead, by allowing me to still be me, in every little detail, the Lord continues to assure me that He chose me and not some better version of myself that does not yet exist. 

And in this I find much freedom. In fact I have experienced a real freedom in binding myself so completely to Another. A surrendering has occurred in which I allow myself to be seen as I am, known and chosen as me: nothing more, nothing less. I find that I move with a greater confidence knowing that I am loved by Love Himself and that this can be changed by no one, not even by me. And when I notice my insecurity return or an exaggerated shyness take over me, the Lord has His ways of reminding me of my beauty, goodness, and worth. 

In all this I definitely do not feel excluded from the necessity to grow. With every remembrance of my consecration I am, instead, reminded of my call to be ever more and more one with my Bridegroom and therefore more like Him, more conformed to His will, and more perfectly united to Him in the love we share and the love I show my brothers and sisters. For this reason, I find it very fitting that this “six month-iversary” occurs on the day that the Church celebrates the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity. In our one true God there are three Persons distinct and yet united so totally in their love. 

So today I implore your prayers for me: that my life as a Bride of Christ may be one lived in the total freedom of the knowledge of who I am and who He is, bound by a love that grows each day in His grace. 

"Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes Lord. Amen!"

“Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes Lord. Amen!”

Reflecting on today’s Solemnity of the Annunciation, this line from the popular 2002 worship song by Darnell Evans, Trading My Sorrows, came to mind.

One of the principal themes of this page of Luke’s Gospel is that of Mary’s “yes”.

Mary’s “yes” has always been a jaw-dropper, the surprise ending to a passage saturated with divine intervention, the awe-inspiring and yet intimidating model of what our response to God is called to be. It has been described as total, perfect, simple, and…all-encompassing.

The “all-encompassing” part is the hardest part for me to get my mind around. Is a teenage girl really able to say “yes” to all life will bring upon her when she is yet at its earliest beginnings? Was Mary’s “yes” a “yes” well-informed of what lay ahead? Could she have possibly foreseen the suffering beyond that of her already difficult situation of being found with child before her marriage to Joseph?

I think Italian slang has the best answer to these questions: ni (no and si).

Mary is human, just like us. She was conceived without original sin, she was full of grace, but she’s human. And so I find it hard to believe that she could have had full knowledge of all that was to come; that her “yes” would have extended all the way to the pain of the cross and the joy of the Resurrection.

But yet, even without knowing the details, she did say “yes” to it all. How?

I think the question is not so much WHAT she said “yes” to but WHO she said “yes” to. She might not have known all but her knowledge certainly was not lacking when she gave her famous fiat that changed the course of history.

What did Mary know when she said “yes”? Her parents, St. Joachim and St. Anne, practicing Jews, would have most certainly taught her much about her people’s history. She would have known well the story of salvation up until that point: creation, the fall, years of exile and miraculous interventions engineered by the one true God, the Holy One of Israel. She would have learned about and learned to desire the coming of the long awaited Messiah. But even this is not yet enough. Mary’s knowledge of God would not have been only “textbook knowledge”. Her knowledge of Him was experiential, relational, and intimate. She was not only familiar with His faithfulness to her people but also to her. His love was not a general love spread out among many, but an intentional and personal love uniquely for her. The God Mary knew was not distant but close, deep within, and she was all too familiar with the sound of His voice, the sensation of His presence, the warmth of His gaze.

It is in the context of this loving relationship, with the fresh memory of lived experience, and because of past concrete life events that Mary says her “yes”. She knows well the One who calls her. She trusts Him completely, and she remembers that He is good to His promises.

Her “yes” does not directly address the future events of her life. It would be too little to give oneself for a mere single event of an existence destined to endure an eternity. No, she chooses, indeed she must and can only give herself so completely to the One who is eternity itself. And so she makes her “yes”. She courageously and confidently utters those few, simple words loaded with a meaning that will forever determine her existence and the existence of the whole world: Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to your word.

In one instant she embraces her Creator, flinging herself head long into His wide outstretched arms and along with Him she embraces all that is to come. She knows she will never understand the course of future events, why she will have to endure what she will, but she knows that if He allows it, He can bring good from it, and that is enough for her. She asks no questions and makes no requests. She simply makes herself available; she opens wide the doors of her heart and, quite literally, makes of herself a dwelling place of the Lord.

And so, just like in Darnell Evans’ famous record that most all of us have sung and dance to at some point in our lives, Mary’s “yes” is eager, enthusiastic, and almost exaggerated: Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes Lord. Amen!

On this holy day in which we remember her “yes” let us ask Mary’s intercession in our own “yes”. That we may not merely say “yes” to a situation but rather to the God of all situations. May our trust in Him and love for Him grow each day until all we seek is to do His will and be in His presence. 

"...Yes, Yes  Lord. Amen!"