 I think I'm supposed to be learning another lesson right now, about living in the present moment.
I am "home" helping my mother, who recently fractured her shoulder. On the way back here to the Twin Cities, a friend with whom I was travelling gave me a great insight. She told me a little prayer she had learned. It went something like this: "Lord, I know that you are here with me in this present moment. I want to be with you in this present moment." She pointed out that God is always in the present, and that when we dwell on the past or the future we are not truly being with Him where He wants us to be, but are caught up elsewhere. This lesson has been especially poignant to me this week... In the back of my mind, I wonder about the coming days, how long I should stay here to help out and what will happen when I go back to my regular workplace (with the challenges that assuredly await me there). I don't know the answers to these questions, but I know that I can stay with Jesus in this present moment, leaving the rest up to Him (easier said than done for me). This morning at Mass, this present Presence of Jesus struck me powerfully. I was kneeling in prayer before communion. (At my home parish, the priests and those helping distribute communion go to the pews rather than having a communion line.) All of a sudden, before I hardly knew what was happening, Father was in front of me. Jesus was there! He was there with me, in the here and now, amidst my uncertainties and needs. It was such a beautiful, consoling reminder of how Jesus comes to us in our needs, in ways and moments that we least expect.
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Today, we share thoughts from our Sister Sara Marie, as she remembers a milestone in her life. With the welcome she got, she decided convent life wasn't so bad. Who doesn't like cake and ice cream?
Yesterday, Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, was the 33rd anniversary of my return to St. Francis Convent. It was also Sr. Mary Sand's birthday. Sr. Mary was never one to turn down ice cream or a pinochle game, and it was a tradition to have both on her birthday. I'm currently out of town, spending some time at the provincial house. I hadn't been able to access this site until now. Until I post again, I invite you to enjoy (and share) a little video I just made for our retreat center here. God bless you - have a good week!  Do you ever find that a certain message “pops up” repeatedly in your life at times, a few times in a week (perhaps in the scriptures and in the course of a conversation or reading)? It makes you wonder, “Am I supposed to be learning something here?” This has happened again to me this past week. I guess, if we don’t catch on right away, more than one attempt may be needed. :)
Some of the readings this week at Mass have been especially beautiful. Yet, they also were part of this nudge I’ve been getting lately, a nudge in a not-so-comfortable direction for me. As we all know, this has been a hard year. The last month and a half have been especially difficult here. The stress and frustration have been really weighing on me (and others, I’m sure). This past weekend and/or early in the week, I found myself praying more earnestly for a swift end to this pandemic and all the craziness surrounding it. While I’m not saying this was bad, I feel that, in recent days, I’ve been called more to trust, day by day, rather than longing so much for a change. Tuesday’s gospel of the feeding of the multitude, which I heard in close proximity to someone’s comment on the manna in the desert of old, was a significant part of this recent “nudge.” These days, so much is beyond our control. There are things that don’t seem fair, right, or even rational. It is frustrating. There is also a lot of uncertainty. Rather than focus on this, however, or dream about a better tomorrow (it can’t come soon enough!), I’m being reminded that Jesus provides the sustenance I need for TODAY. He is our Daily Bread. Just as the ancient Israelites could not stockpile manna for the coming days, and had to trust God to provide it anew each morning, I need to realize that it is not mine to know the future; He will provide what I need for each day. He will give me needed grace and strength, especially in His greatest gift of Himself with the Holy Eucharist. Yesterday afternoon, when briefly discussing a new challenge we’ll be facing, one of my Sisters used the phrase, “one day at a time.” I almost cringed. This is a hard lesson for me to learn, but it’s a good one. I wish I were a better student.  It has been quite the month! I think I may finally be getting my strength back after being down for the count. I haven't felt quite myself since—well—last year. I find that after just a little bit of work, all my energy is gone.
I haven't been alone in my infirmity, either. Unfortunately, one of my fellow Sisters has been dealing with the same thing. I'm a little further along than she, however, and so have done a little bit of cooking for the both of us (rather than having to haul every meal over from the main dining room—or have it delivered all the time). The other night, she decided that scrambled eggs sounded good. Other than watching my dad make them every Sunday morning after Mass, I don’t have a ton of experience with making this comfort food. I’ve maybe done it twice before in my life. Now that I’m over the worst and no longer contagious, I was able to go over to get eggs and milk. When I went in the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk, I noticed several packets of Luchables were still there. We have no idea where they came from. I thought— “Ah hah; I’ll use these in the scrambled eggs.” Along with some sandwich cookies and plain crackers, each package also had several small slices of cheese and ham or turkey. I brought my ingredients back to the convent, and set to work tearing the meat and cheese from a few packets into the bowl with four eggs I had procured. I did sit down on a step stool for much of this process, due to my quickly diminishing energy level. I added a generous splash of milk, salt and pepper, and poured the raw mixture into a pan I had greased. Within about five minutes, I was able to call downstairs that supper was ready. The recipient of this unconventional “breakfast for supper” liked the eggs very much. Half are still left, though, in the refrigerator, probably to be finished off this evening. I was tickled that she so enjoyed my cooking. Meanwhile, last night, I finished off a wild rice hotdish (originally it was supposed to be soup) that I had made last weekend. After I made it, the rice absorbed more and more of the liquid. I also ended up adding some leftover chicken and potato pieces, which helped mellow the strong spices that had come in the soup mix. I must say, one of my favorite meals I’ve had during my time recuperating has been kettle corn (microwave, no less), which also reminded me of my dad. One of our last meals together before he got sick had been supper on a Friday in Lent when we shared a bowl of popcorn. Although I don’t mind cooking at all, I do look forward to the day (hopefully soon) when we are fully recovered and don’t need to hang out at the convent during the work week. In the meantime, I am reminded to be grateful for all of life's little blessings, even scrambled eggs that turned out well. |
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