This morning, at our online discussion group, when covering tomorrow’s readings, as we do every week, a phrase from the first reading stirred my heart as it often does when I read it:

There is no salvation through anyone else,
nor is there any other name under heaven
given to the human race by which we are to be saved.” (Acts 4:12)
 
It also reminded me of a beautiful song about the Name of Jesus.
 
This message, proclaimed by St. Peter over 2,000 years ago is timeless.  As I thought more about this, I realized how pertinent this message is for us today!
 
As we eagerly wait for an end to this pandemic and the craziness surrounding it, I am reminded that, in the end, nothing else will save us but the Name of Jesus. 
 
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking the efforts of the scientific community and the government.  These have their place. 
 
However, I think this passage today serves as a reminder, a call, to redirect our trust, to refocus our hearts.
 
As we hope for better days, we don’t focus on the numbers, we don’t trust in vaccines or treatments. 

Also, we need not become entrenched in fear and discouragement at all the unrest around our country and world.
 
Instead, we trust in Jesus, in Whose Name we find salvation.

I’d invite you to pray with me the Litany of the Most Holy Name of Jesus, which invokes Jesus using many beautiful titles for Him. 
 
Let’s turn to Jesus, bringing Him all the world’s problems and our own. 
 
I especially like to do this at the Mass, placing everything on the altar to be brought into His sacrifice made present there.

With trepidation, I started preparing in earnest for my vocation talk I have to give at the SEARCH weekend in Valley City, ND.  I'd much rather write something than speak in public.  Having drafted it, I decided that it would work for my blog post this week as well.

When I sat down to think and pray more about this talk, my four little plum trees came to mind for some reason.  I’m kind of proud of my little trees, and have to be careful that I don’t get too attached to them.  As I thought more about them, I realized that there are several parallels between their development and my own vocation. 
 
About three and a half years ago, we visited the niece of one of our Sisters, who lived kind of out in the country.  Among other things, she gave us some plums.  I pitted them with some of the residents here, and made plum jam.  Rather than throwing out the pits, I saved several of them, washed them up, and stuck them in our raised garden beds over the winter.  (I learned that plum pits need a cold period in order to germinate.) 
 
At baptism, we are given the seed of faith.  We have to decide what to do with it.  Are we going to throw it out or preserve and nurture it?  We’re also each given a vocation in life, a way that God is calling us to follow Christ and become saints.  The question becomes: Do I recognize it? 

Do I take time to foster the growth of my faith and my vocation?  For me, my vocational journey really was a process.  I wasn’t born knowing I was going to be a Franciscan Sister in North Dakota.  In fact, I used to make a little bit of fun of North Dakota, where my mom’s family was from.  Boy, that came back to bite me!!   
 
Like my little trees, my vocational discernment took time to grow.  It was the summer of my freshman year of college when being a Sister came to me at adoration at our parish, but it wasn’t until four years later that I finally found where that vocation would be lived out. 
 
During that time, I had my own struggles of various kinds; I had to go through my own “winter” before the seed of my vocation would germinate.  One thing that was hard for me was not knowing where I should go. 
 
As I thought and prayed about my future, I learned more about what I would like to see in a religious community (e.g., religious garb, devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, variety of apostolates, strong community life).  I visited different communities.  It was a challenging time in its own way. 
 
OK…Back to my plum trees!  When spring came that year, the pits had sprouted.  I put them in little pots and nursed them over the summer.  In the fall, I had four healthy seedlings.  Others hadn’t done so well or had been given away, etc.
 
Before I get too far ahead of myself, I want to stress that a relationship with Jesus is so important in our vocation!  How are we going to know (or care about) what He wants us to do if we’re not spending time with Him and working on that relationship?
 
Yet, we’re not on this journey alone.  Our maintenance man has helped me with my little trees, digging holes, and we got the four seedlings planted in the ground.  He surrounded them with leaves and netting to protect them over the winter.  He continues to fertilize them. 
 
When I was exploring my vocation and trying to figure out where God wanted me, I had help from others.  My mom was praying for me.  I had sworn her to secrecy, but she was having trouble keeping quiet about it.  I also had help from our pastor.  I met with him a couple of times.  After one of these visits, he offered to walk me out, asking where I was parked.  I told him, having fun, “In between the two sets of doors.”  I had biked to Church to meet with him.  I have a vision impairment and am not able to drive a car. This fact has definitely made life more of an adventure for me!  In a sense, one might say that this challenge, among others, has been a form of pruning in my life.
 
As for my trees, last month, a volunteer and I went out and pruned the little guys (now about five feet tall).  This is so they would focus energy on growing up rather than getting bushy.  We also eliminated competitor branches and those which were growing toward the trunk as this would cause problems down the road. 
 
In the course of their growth, the plums went from the gardens to pots to the outdoors.  Also, in my life, God let me be in different places for a time; all of these taught me something.  One example from my days of exploring was when I visited a community in Connecticut.  The community there had a lot of silence.  I realize that there is definite spiritual benefit in times of silence, but the experience also taught me that a lot of silence was not such a great fit for me, personally. 
 
During my time of trying to find “the right place,” I ended up in Chicago, through Amish country in Wisconsin on the bus (the guys who boarded the bus at one point smelled like they’d just gotten done with chores.) 
 
Soon after arriving, I realized that this community I was visiting was not right for me.  I ended up contacting other convents there to see if there was another place to visit rather than wasting these Sisters’ time (and my own).  I ended up spending a couple of days with some Franciscan Sisters, who “happened to be having a ‘Come & See’ at the time.  Before that, I hadn’t been open to the possibility of a Franciscan community.  Although I didn’t feel called to pursue that particular one, it re-opened my to the possibility of the Franciscan order.  Soon after that, I found the Franciscan Sisters in Hankinson, North Dakota.  Life is certainly a journey!
 
During this time, I had in the back of my mind, “This is what I’m supposed to do, so I’ll do it.”  My parents, especially my dad, had instilled in me this readiness to do what is right and what is asked by God.  For example, going to church on Sunday was not optional.  
 
However, when I was in formation in Hankinson, as I learned more about religious life, my motivation changed from duty into desire – I really wanted this life!  I was learning more about the spousal dimension of consecrated life, about giving oneself to Jesus in a special way.  I saw what a beautiful vocation it was!  Some years later, when I made final vows, I prostrated myself on the floor of our chapel in Hankinson, as if to say, “I give myself to You; I am yours.”  I made the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, promising to imitate my Beloved, the poor, chaste, and obedient One par excellence.   
 
The growth and journeying did not end that day, just like my tree’s development didn’t end when we stuck them in the ground a couple of years ago.  Right now, they actually look pretty bare, but if you look close, you can see some green tips on some of the branches, signs of hope and life.  
 
This past year especially has been challenging, but that is not the end.   I pray that my life may be united continually to Jesus and I may produce much spiritual fruit for Him, just as I am hoping that, someday, we have big trees that produce fruit.   

Yesterday afternoon, it dawned on me, "I haven't put the brown suitcase away yet!" 

It was still setting on a sofa in the parlor...It's been busy, and I hadn't gotten everything back inside immediately after the Triduum liturgies. 

This famous brown suitcase contains a wooden clapper, crucifix, purple covers, kindling for the Easter fire, an instruction sheet, and other supplies for Holy Week.  There's a lot packed into that single piece of luggage!

Climbing up on a step stool to take it out, around the fourth week of Lent, and then putting it away during the octave of Easter, carries sentimental "baggage" with it as well. 

I tend to think to myself something like "Here we are again!" The months have come 'round, and it's time to enter into this holy season once again.  On returning the case to its abode for eleven months of the year, my mount is accompanied by a feeling of accomplishment and happiness that we've made it through another Holy Week and Triduum. 

As one who helps coordinate and set things for these beautiful liturgies, this is no simple task.  I imagine that people who aren't involved in this have very little realization of all that goes into preparing for Holy Week! 

So, as I put the suitcase, packed with important "equipment" for this special time, back into it's place, there's a sense of closure. 

It's rather interesting, when up in those cupboards, what other hidden objects one sees. 
I inherited the job of sacristan from another Sister, who had only trained me to do the job to fill in for her during her vacations, so I didn't get a thorough training in what was what.