Having been gone on my home visit after a very busy couple of months, I haven’t written here in a while.  I apologize. 
 
In this post, I would like to follow up on my previous piece on the rosary.  One reader asked for the complete list of phrases to insert in the Hail Marys, to which I had to admit that I had just made up the ones I shared. 
 
As I near the end of my shift at the reception desk, I’ll attempt to come up with other phrases. 
 
In case you didn’t read the previous post, it discussed the valuable practice [when praying the rosary] of inserting a phrase pertaining to the mystery inside the Hail Mary: “Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus, who...”
 
Joyful Mysteries

1. Whose come was announced by Gabriel
2. Who caused John to leap in the womb of his mother
3. Who you bore at Bethlehem
4. Who you presented in the Temple
5. Who you found in the Temple

 
Luminous Mysteries

1. Who was baptized in the Jordan
2. Who turned water into wine
3. Who proclaimed the kingdom
4. Who was transfigured on Mt. Tabor
5. Who instituted the Eucharist

 
Sorrowful Mysteries

1. Who chose the Father’s will at Gethsemane
2. Who was scourged at the pillar
3. Who was crowned with thorns
4. Who carried the cross for us
5. Who died on the cross

 
Glorious Mysteries

1. Who rose from the dead
2. Who ascended into heaven
3. Who sent the Holy Spirit
4. Who took you up to heaven
5. Who crowned you queen of heaven

Recently, I was reminded of a beautiful practice some of our friends in Europe have.  I was told the John Paul II even discussed it in his letter on the Rosary.
 
I’m trying to implement it, myself, now.
 
This custom, which I was first introduced to some years ago by my mother’s Austrian friend, is to insert a little phrase, which refers to the mystery at hand, in the middle of each Hail Mary. 
 
An example for the Third Joyful Mystery would be to pray each Ave as follows: “Hail Mary, full of grace…blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus, who was born at Bethlehem…Holy Mary…”
 
I had kind of forgotten about this custom, but, the last two days, it’s been really helpful in keeping my mind on track and preventing me from drifting off into other unrelated thoughts and preoccupations. 
 
As we approach Lent and pray the Sorrowful Mysteries more frequently, introducing this custom could be a very beautiful way of entering more deeply into Christ’s sufferings. 
 
Below are some examples of how we might pray these mysteries according to this fruitful custom:
1st Sorrowful Mystery: “…Jesus, who chose the Father’s will at Gethsemane…”
2nd Sorrowful Mystery: “…Jesus, who was scourged at the pillar…”
3rd Sorrowful Mystery: “…Jesus, who was crowned with thorns…”
4th Sorrowful Mystery: “…Jesus, who carried the cross for us…”
5th Sorrowful Mystery: “…Jesus, who died on the cross…”
 
I hope this practice helps you and me to pray more faithful and fruitfully.
 
Have a blessed Lent!

This morning, at Mass, we heard the account of Noah sending out a raven or dove after certain increments of time, to find out if the land was dry and ready for life again. 
 
Genesis doesn’t say what everyone did in the meantime. 
 
They (humans and many animals) were on this large craft for many weeks.  Surely, they were eager to put their feet on dry land again. 
 
Earlier, as I announced rosary and Mass, which would be held in our chapel shortly, I recalled that it was February 15th, a day which had been designated by my dad as the “official last day of winter.” His explanation for this title was that “It might snow, and it might get cold – but it’s not going to last too much longer!”  (Here in Grand Forks, ND – a couple hundred miles north, February 21st might be a more realistic date.)
 
As Noah’s dove returned with an olive leaf, the inhabitants of his ark probably shared similar sentiments of hope: “It might smell in here, and we might be running low on commodities – but we should be getting out of this ark pretty soon!” 
 
This evening, as I was upstairs doing aide work, I noticed that the sky was still half light, and it was after 6 p.m.!  Saying a prayer of thanks for the lengthening days, I went on my way. 
 
Like the survivors on Noah’s ark, and like my dad, I, too, am hopeful for brighter days ahead, and thankful for the gifts of new life (even if not yet here). 
 
I’m thinking I should start planning my garden.  After all, here, in the “north country,” we are wise to start some of our seeds indoors.

“As long as the earth lasts,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
Summer and winter,
and day and night
shall not cease.”  (Gen. 8:22)

Sometimes, it’s said that “deaths come in threes.”  The question has even been raised around here: “Who’s next?” after two deaths of acquaintances during a short time.
 
The past few weeks, though, for us here, have brought duo deaths, not of acquaintances, but of close friends.
 
Two and a half weeks ago (though it feels, to me, like years), Sister Rebecca died.  Our community here at St. Anne’s is still deeply grieving this.  Yesterday morning, we heard that Fr. Ed Sherman, who left us for St. Gerard’s last spring, had also died.  He too has been such a part of our lives for many years. 
 
As I reflect upon this, my thoughts return to a topic which has been on my mind more of late, that of heaven.  I hope Father Ed had a peaceful death, and that he’s now catching up with his brother, Fr. Bill (who died last May) and with Sr. Rebecca, who we hope is now a recent addition to the celestial welcoming committee.  I can just imagine the happy reunions. 
 
Besides catching up and singing songs of praise, there is one thing I hope our departed loved ones don’t neglect.  That is praying for the rest of us, who they’ve left behind, but who are still united with them, especially in the Eucharist.  We could really use their help – that’s for sure! 
 
There’s a little prayer I like to use sometimes, especially when thinking about such things: “All you holy angels and saints, please pray for us.” 

“Wait for the LORD with courage;
be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD.”
 
These beautiful words from this mornings’ responsorial psalm (27) struck me as deeply appropriate at this point in my life’s journey.
 
I haven’t written here for several weeks as I have been completely absorbed in other responsibilities, foremost of which was accompanying and caring for Sr. Rebecca during the last weeks of her life. 
 
She had been administrator here for many years, and I have worked closely with her for quite some time, having moved here to St. Anne’s over thirteen years ago. 
 
We are definitely in a time of transition and of uncertainty, as we wait to see how things fall into place regarding the work duties that Sr. Rebecca undertook until shortly before her death from cancer last Tuesday. 
 
I am excited for our new administrator to begin work this coming week, as I know her to be a beautiful woman of faith and prayer, as well as a person with business credentials.  There is still much unknown, however. 
 
Sr. Rebecca did so much more than simply serve as administrator of our Basic Care facility.  She was an impeccable decorator, taking items donated from here and there (often from adult children cleaning out a parent’s home), and creating attractive spaces in our building to match each season. 
 
She also managed our HUD project since its inception in 1981.  There are many gaps to fill, and time will tell how it all falls into place. 
 
This morning, I woke up a bit anxious, with so much on my mind.  I don’t know if I’d been dreaming or what the cause of this unease was.  I headed straight to our chapel, however, and spent some time in quiet prayer. 
 
After a half hour of meditation on today’s Mass readings, my heart was calmed and I was encouraged.  The closing words of the responsorial psalm, which I will be singing in less than two hours, especially spoke to me: “Wait for the LORD with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD.”  
 
I will continue lifting my concerns to Our Lord, who is so present to me, surrendering my heart and my life to His care. 
 
In the meantime, I also pray to St. Anne (our patroness) and St. Joseph (patron saint of workers) for their intercession. 
 
Please join me in this prayer!

As I sit here at the reception desk, toward the end of my shift, I have a lot on my mind. 
 
Poinsettias from the local garden center arrived about 45 minutes ago.  I’ll need to get them watered and, tomorrow, arrange them in chapel around the stable in front of the altar.  (I won’t go into complications that just got resolved involving our order’s delivery.)
 
Meanwhile, our nice new full length altar cloth hangs over the table and chairs in “the little dining room” near the end of the hallway, hopefully becoming a bit less wrinkled as it waits to be ironed later this evening. 
 
I’m grateful that one of our apartment residents has offered to help hold it (and ‘feed it to me’) as I iron.  With its large size, I find it to be quite a daunting task. 
 
Ironing boards were not shaped for pressing large pieces of fabric, though they do work well for the collars of dress shirts and blouses.
 
But, there’s more…
 
Earlier this morning, I got a couple of calls, to the effect that we would be short an evening aide (in addition to other current staffing constraints).  The ironing expedition, therefore, will take place after I get done recruiting residents for the nurse, distributing bedtime snacks, taking out trash, and doing other light duties up on the men’s and women’s floors.
 
This year, with these and other happenings, I’ve found myself feeling a little bit overwhelmed.  Before we can sing “Silent night…all is calm” tomorrow night, I have quite a ways to go. 
 
(I still want to make festive dessert cups for supper, using no-bake cheese cake, colored with red food coloring, graham cracker crumbles, and a layer of pistachio pudding.)
 
As I recognize that I am now in the “storm before the calm,” I am reminded of the gospel accounts of the calming of the storm at sea, and of on Whom I need to keep my focus. 
 
It’s a good thing we have a time of Exposition and adoration this afternoon!

I went to bed pretty late (for me) last night – it was going on eleven, but I was filled with gratitude.  In keeping with this weekend’s theme of Gaudete, rejoicing, my heart was lifted. 
 
I had just returned from an evening out, having been invited for supper and a pinochle game at the home of a lady from our women’s group and her husband. 
 
They had taught me three-handed pinochle (I was only familiar with four-handed), and I even got to play with their two dogs!  I did have to borrow their lint brush before leaving, as evidence of this had been left behind on the bottom of my jumper!
 
It was such a refreshing break from the humdrumness of these cold, short December days.  I felt truly blessed! 
 
To top it all off, I actually won the pinochle game, with some coaching from my hosts, of course! 
~~~~~~~~~
It seems that this theme of rejoicing is bound to continue in the coming days. 
 
Liturgically, there are a number of special commemorations, my favorite of which is tomorrow, as we honor Our Lady of Guadalupe. 
 
Tuesday, we’ll celebrate St. Lucy, who is so loved and honored in the Scandinavian homelands of many of our ancestors.  She’s also the patron saint of people with vision problems, which is of significance to me. 
 
I have some work to do before her feast day, though, since I’m to make a festive taco dip for our annual staff in-service and potluck Tuesday afternoon.  I have cheese to grate, tomatoes to dice, and olives to slice for this tasty dish.  We already have the scoop tortilla chips to have with it. 
 
On Wednesday, which I’ll always remember as my dad’s birthday, the Church honors St. John of the Cross. 
 
Then, on Saturday, we start the O Antiphons, which are such a special part of these late Advent days.  I’m excited to get up the stand from the basement to display Sr. Elaine’s beautifully calligraphed verses. 
 
During the tough times of life, of which we all certainly have our share, it’s important to keep in mind words from today’s Mass:“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.”  (Entrance Antiphon, Third Sunday of Advent)

A few weeks ago, I got a hair-brained idea:  Wouldn’t it be neat to celebrate St. Nicholas by having our residents put out their shoes the night before his feast? 
 
We always did that as kids, and I brought the idea to our convent.  We’ve been doing it over there for several years now. 
 
We’ve never done it with our residents, though.  Can you imagine preparing fifty goodie bags to put in shoes left outside the doors of their rooms/apartments? 
 
Well, that’s just what I spent the past two hours doing here at the front desk! 
 
I had put the word out about this idea, and said that we’d appreciate donations of little treats for our residents.  The response was heartwarming. 
 
Someone from a nearby food bank brought over excess candy, and a friend of ours brought granola bars.  A family member of a resident brought little gift wrapped items, so I can only guess what these are!  Sr. Elaine even picked up small bags of assorted popcorns when she was in Fargo last week.
 
It’s really neat. 
 
Earlier today, I reminded Sr. Elaine that I need to borrow her Santa hat since I want to wear it tomorrow night when distributing the little goodie bags. 
 
It will be fun! 
 
I hope our residents enjoy the goodies!
 
PS: If you know anyone here at St. Anne’s, please don’t tell them what they’ll be getting from our friend, St. Nick.  He wants his helper to keep it as a surprise!

This morning at Mass, Father reminded us of the importance of giving thanks.
 
The true meaning of this national holiday isn’t given the prominence it really deserves.  With Christmas decorations already up in many places, and big sales underway, one can easily forget the thanks giving part of this fourth Thursday in November. 
 
In speaking of the grateful leper in today’s gospel, Father pointed out that the Greek word used to refer to his action was Eucharisteo. 
 
As Catholics, that should sound very familiar to us.  After all, we come together to participate in the Eucharist on a regular basis. 
 
As you may know, this familiar sounding Greek word means: “He gave thanks.”  The Samaritan leper in today’s passage from Luke gave thanks for his healing, when his comrades did not. 
(How often I fail to give thanks to God for the many blessings I receive each day!)
 
Though I’m no scholar of ancient languages, I think the connection given us in the word used for the Sacrament of Sacraments, the Source and Summit of the Christian life, should definitely be a clue for us.
 
If eucharistia is at the very center of our faith, what does that tell us about the importance of gratitude to God should have in our lives?
 
I think this word gives us a glimpse into Christ’s own heart. 
 
The sacrifice of the Mass, which re-presents the paschal mystery for us, is an offering of thanksgiving to the Father.  Jesus wants us to be part of this thanksgiving.
 
Our thanksgiving, however, need not end when we walk out the church doors into a wintry morning. 
 
It can, and should, become a habit throughout our day. 
 
Thanksgiving is a pretty big deal!

It’s been two and a half weeks since I’ve posted here – I’m sorry.  
 
The reason for the long lapse is that I’ve been away, and have been pretty busy.  I was at our provincial house, helping with a number of projects, including jelly-making and website maintenance for our retreat center there. 
 
The previous weekend, I had been in Fargo, attending a diocesan workshop for parish musicians.  This was a very enriching experience, and I even had a mini organ lesson!
 
I got a ride back to Grand Forks with Sister Donna, who would be staying a few days to enjoy a little respite and attend a meeting up here later in the week.
 
With her, to my delight, she brought new booklets from our religious congregation: the photo/contact directory of our Sisters – and – the name day book! 
(Isn’t it crazy how we look for our own photo, and those of people we know well, before anything else when getting a new publication?)
 
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the picture that was chosen for me, but life goes on. 
 
My faint displeasure was more than compensated for, though, when I opened the name day book!
* * *
Around the time I was received as a novice, there was a discussion about a nameday.  Since we belong to a German-based congregation, the celebration of one’s namesake (usually saint) is a prominent one for us.  We pray for our Sisters around the world on the eve of their nameday (or for certain provinces, their birthday).
 
At that time, I had indicated that the feast of Corpus Christi has always been a special day for me; it’s been pretty much my nameday since birth, especially since I was born right around that time in June. 
 
However, much to my dismay, I was informed that I couldn’t use this as my nameday because it was a moveable feast (changing each year based one when Easter falls).  I had, instead, to choose a another date, one that had a unchanging date on the calendar.  Thus, for the past sixteen years, July 24th has been my nameday “in the books.” 
 
I have nothing against the Saints Christina who are honored that day, and am grateful for their intercession, but the feast of Corpus Christi is extremely special and important to me. 
 
This past year, when preparations were being made for new booklets, we were asked to submit a little information.  Along with our birthplace and home diocese, we were to indicate our special day as well. Having noticed that one Sister’s nameday is on Pentecost (which is also a moveable feast), I had dared to hint that I would really like to return to my original nameday of Corpus Christi, but had heard no more about the matter.
* * *
Last evening, then, when I eagerly opened the new document, I saw that my name was not listed among those to be remembered in prayer for July 24th.  After flipping back to the end of May, I saw my name, but there was what looked like a strange German word next to it: Fronleichnam. 
 
A quick Google search revealed that Fronleichnam would be on June 8 in 2023 (two days before my birthday), but I wanted to confirm my suspicions of what that foreign phrase meant.  Another search revealed that this was, indeed, the German word for my beloved feast of Corpus Christi – My nameday had been changed back! 
 
Fronleichnam is actually German for “the Lord’s Body,” and this is what they call the feast in Germany, rather than retaining the Latin as we do in English. 
 
So, in German, it’s hard to make a case for this being my nameday, but in English, there’s a stronger tie. 
 
I guess this is just one of those things that’s “lost in translation.” 

Earlier this month, we had a wonderful OktoberFest party in our activity room.  It was great, but the staff who put it on over-budgeted a little on the soft pretzels.  The leftovers got put in a plastic bag and stowed away in the fridge. 
 
Monday, the re-appeared again, and were going to get tossed since they weren’t exactly fresh anymore. 
 
Before that could happen, I grabbed the bag and said I’d take them.  Bringing them to the conference room where we eat our meals, I ended up sampling one. 
 
They weren’t too bad (but not too good, either).
 
Then, I had an idea – why not make bread pudding?  Salted caramel’s become quite popular lately, right?
 
I did a little research, and, sure enough, “salted caramel pretzel bread pudding” is a thing!  Multiple recipes online confirmed my hopes.
 
Rather than go through the trouble of making a fancy salted caramel sauce, though, I decided to resort to my “tried and true” recipe which I had come up with during the bagel inundation of 2019/20. 
 
The salt from the pretzels would add a wonderful dimension to this recipe; also, soft pretzels are similar in texture to bagels, so it should work out fine, I thought. 
 
The batch made two pans of “salted caramel pretzel bread pudding,” which turned out to be very tasty.  We enjoyed it with our lunch that day. 
 
Afterwards, we stored some away in the fridge, put I still had a larger pan untouched. 
 
I stuck it in the activity room fridge, planning to serve it for the residents’ snack-time sometime soon. 
 
Yesterday, I found out that they were having a dance with accordion music in the afternoon.  I asked our activity director when snack would be, and found out that she was actually wanting something a little more special (than the customary “package deal”) for the occasion. 
 
This would be the perfect way to use my bread pudding, I figured!
 
I would coax residents down for the afternoon’s entertainment with the small of delicious caramel bread pudding warming in the oven.
 
Sometimes people are less than eager to attend these events, unfortunately, and we’re not opposed to a little good old fashioned bribery at times.    
 
Let it be known: they polished off the whole pan!

As I glanced over Tuesday’s Mass readings, the refrain of the assigned responsorial psalm caught my attention: “Let your mercy come to me, O Lord.”
 
What a simple, yet beautiful prayer! 
 
It resonated deeply in my heart, which has been heavy again of late, amidst some challenging days and circumstances. 
 
This experience, which I will have to delve into more deeply during my prayer time tomorrow, is evidence of the quote from Hebrews, which is used in the gospel acclamation: “The word of God is living and effective, able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.” 
 
I am grateful for this word, alive in our lives, which helps bring us to the freedom Christ offers, as St. Paul so beautifully stated in tomorrow’s epistle: “For freedom Christ set us free.”
 
In closing, may I ask for your prayers in these challenging times, that His mercy may come to me in abundance? 

Oh, Psalm 139!  I was blessed to be able to read it at Mass today. 
 
I had memorized much of it back in college, when I was accustomed to praying the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. 
 
For me, this psalm is a special scripture passage.  It touches and warms my heart.  I really like a couple of the hymns which have been adapted from it, such as “O God, You Search Me” and “You are Near.”  (We actually sang the former this morning at Mass.)
 
Amidst the struggles of life, it is wonderful to remember the message contained in this psalm.
 
If you’re having a tough day, or are in need of a reminder of God’s closeness, I’d encourage you to take a few moments and reflect upon this beautiful passage.  It wasn’t just relevant 3,000 years ago; it’s “living and effective” today as well. 

O LORD, you have probed me and you know me;
you know when I sit and when I stand;
you understand my thoughts from afar.
My journeys and my rest you scrutinize,
with all my ways you are familiar.

Where can I go from your spirit?
From your presence where can I flee?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I sink to the nether world, you are present there.

If I take the wings of the dawn,
if I settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
Even there your hand shall guide me,
and your right hand hold me fast.

Truly you have formed my inmost being;
you knit me in my mother's womb.
I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made;
wonderful are your works.

I know it’s been a number of weeks since I’ve posted any reflections here.  I’m sorry, but I guess I’ve been busy and also not had much inspiration. 
 
As I embark on the final stretch of a fifteen hour stint at the reception desk, I realized that it’s been a while and that, perhaps, I’d better come up with something. 
 
Glancing at the USCCB’s daily readings webpage for inspiration, I saw that tomorrow’s selection is again from Ecclesiastes.  Skimming the words: “There is an appointed time for everything…A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant. A time to kill, and a time to heal…a time of war, and a time of peace,” I was struck by their timeless beauty. 
 
The truths proclaimed thousands of years ago are no less relevant today.
 
In this time when I, for one, face so much added stress and uncertainty, it’s good to remember the lessons contained here. 
 
In times of weeping, mourning, dying, uprooting, killing, tearing down, scattering, not embracing, losing, casting away, rending, hating, and war, I need to keep my gaze directed upward. 
 
It’s so easy to get caught up in the turmoil around me, on the storm.  I need to strive to keep my attention on the One who’s “got it all” and who can calm the storm with a single word. 
 
Whether he decides to end the tempest suddenly or chooses to walk with me through it, I need to entrust myself and my situation to Him, asking Him to stay close to me through it all.

As we celebrate the birthday of the Blessed Virgin today, I decided to share a poem I wrote as a postulant.

Ave Maria!
Hail our Mother and our Queen
Who, at present though not seen,
Watches and protects us here-
in times of peace and times of fear.
 
Please help us to be more like you
Who, in everything, was true.
Please help us trust and truly pray:
Let it be done me as you say.
 
Guide us, please, and help us obey
The words at Cana you did say.
Like those servants, please help us do
What ever He tells [us] to.
 
Show us, please, the way to go
And what we should do to know.
Please help our minds be lit, not dim
As we heed: Listen to Him.
 
Please help us have obedient hearts
And never let our feet depart
From the way which you did run
That will lead us to your Son.
 
Hail, my Mother and my Queen!
Though your loving hands unseen,
I know you have maternal care
For us your children everywhere.
Written January 9, 2006

This morning’s gospel of the calling of the fishermen (in conjunction with the miraculous catch of fish) in Luke 5  can serve as an inspiration to all of us, especially during times, like our own, which tend to be challenging. 
 
If you’re anything like me, you may be feeling a bit discouraged at times, and be inclined to wonder if things will ever change in regard to certain situations. 
 
Peter, exhausted from a night of fruitless toil is in this same “boat” here.  When Jesus instructs him to "Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch," he’s not exactly jumping up with excited optimism. 
 
He’s realistic, like any of us. 
 
His very matter-of-fact response is: "Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing.” 
 
Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop there.  He’s willing to submit of Jesus’ instructions, although his fisherman commonsense would tell him otherwise: “but at your command I will lower the nets."
 
I don’t know about you, but this passage nudged me this morning. 
 
I may be tempted to think, “What’s the use?  I’m not succeeding.  I’m not catching any fish.  I might as well give up on that.” 
 
Perhaps, in this morning’s encounter, Jesus is whispering to you and to me: “Don’t give up!...Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch."

If we are open and obedient, if we keep spending time with Jesus, we might just see our own miraculous catch of fish (or whatever that translates to in our own lives). 
 
In whatever our circumstances, may we be attentive to the Holy Spirit’s call to leave everything and follow Him.

I guess I'm always game for an adventure! 

Several weeks ago I had this crazy idea: “Why don't we have a booth at the Farmer's Market in Town Square?  We could sell embroidered dish towels, jams and jellies, crocheted items, etc.”  I further thought that such a venture would be a good way to get St. Anne’s’ name out in the community more, as Sr. Elaine likes to say, it would be good PR. 
 
After talking it over with Sr. Rebecca, who to my surprise endorsed the idea, I completed the application form. 
 
I went on with my summer, with all this in the back of my mind.
 
Shortly before leaving for my home visit, I got word that our application had been approved: we could be a vendor at the Town Square Farmers’ Market. 
 
After coming back to Grand Forks last Sunday, I began to pursue this more, and we decided that the coming weekend would be as good a time as any to try it out.  After all, produce was coming into season, which would bring plenty of potential customers.  I might even find some good garden fresh beets to bring home!
 
This past week, then, I worked hard, making jam, gathering and pricing items, and making signs for the big day. 
 
Two of our apartment residents, who had been frequenting the market this summer, offered to come and help. 
 
So it was that yesterday morning, with the van loaded up, I went downtown and set up our booth.  The resident volunteers joined me a little while later for a couple of hours. 
 
Everything went pretty well, and last evening, as I worked the front desk, I tallied the proceeds, and put unsold items back in our gift cases. 
 
This morning, I needed to be at the front desk by 7 a.m., so I set up for Mass beforehand. It took longer than it should have, though, since I was dragging still from the day before, and also because I hadn’t been there yesterday morning to change things over for Sunday. 
 
I made it, however, and here I am, working my shift. 
 
I was asked yesterday if I thought I would do it (got to market) again.  I responded, “I don’t know…Not tomorrow anyhow!” 
.

Over a week ago, I left for the Twin Cities to visit my family there.  Extenuating circumstances had led to an earlier departure than planned (with a consequent crazy evening of decision making, packing, and preparation).

Catching a ride with a friend of a friend ended up being delightful.  We both work in related fields and share an interest in the Spanish language.  These among other commonalities, were unknown before we got in the car together.  We ended up talking about our work and attending a Spanish Mass together near St. Cloud (again, unplanned).

I really felt blessed!

My week with my mom and siblings held blessings of its own.  I got to see a number of relatives and old friends.  We also spent one day at our friends' farm about an hour south. 
 
That was certainly a highlight. 

Along with the chance to visit, walk, and bike, other happenings included a short trip to Stillwater and a walk to Wisconsin (across the St. Croix) and a tour of the historically significant St. Anthony Falls (which I had never been to before). 
 
An added bonus was the chance to meet up our cousin, who I hadn’t seen for about twenty years.

It was such a blessing to have this time.  It gave me some fresh perspective, and a needed break. 

I am grateful to those who filled in for me back at St. Anne’s, making this home visit possible.

As I hit the ground running now, working the evening shift at the reception desk as I start a new week at work, I would appreciate your continued prayers.

Today’s feast of St. Alphonsus Ligouri, together with a book I just finished about St. Margaret Mary, has brought a beautiful prayer, written by the former, to my mind of late.
 
I first learned it as a high school or college student, when our pastor began promoting First Friday devotions.  He would lead us in this prayer. 
 
You may be familiar with it, and, if not I’d like to introduce you to a beautiful treasure:
 
Most sweet Jesus,
Redeemer of the human race, look down upon us humbly prostrate before You.
We are Yours, and Yours we wish to be; but to be more surely united with You, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to Your Most Sacred Heart.
Many indeed have never known You; many, too, despising Your precepts, have rejected You.
Have mercy on them all, most merciful Jesus, and draw them to your Sacred Heart.
Be King, O Lord, not only of the faithful who have never forsaken You, but also of the prodigal children who have abandoned You; grant that they may quickly return to their Father's house,
lest they die of wretchedness and hunger.
Be King of those who are deceived by erroneous opinions, or whom discord keeps aloof,
and call them back to the harbor of truth and the unity of faith, so that soon there may be but one flock and one Shepherd.
Grant, O Lord, to Your Church assurance of freedom and immunity from harm; give tranquility of order to all nations; make the earth resound from pole to pole with one cry: Praise to the Divine Heart that wrought our salvation; to it be glory and honor for ever.
Amen.
 
In writing this, I wonder, if more people would undertake a heartfelt recitation of this prayer with some frequency, how might our world change? 
 
I guess we (you and I) can start with ourselves! 
 
We never know how our small efforts, united with the Sacred Heart, might impact the lives of others.  These efforts  by our above-mentioned pastor’s certainly made an impact on me, which continues to this day.

As we begin a week of festivities in honor of our patron saint, here at St. Anne's, I thought I would share a poem I wrote some years ago about her and her husband, St. Joachim.  More recently, I've set it to music.  I may have a use for it sometime this week here at St. Anne's.

I hope you enjoy it!

Saints Anne and Joachim, please pray for us!

On a day when the scripture readings centered around visitors, travelers, and hospitality, I got to experience related blessings on a personal level.
 
Last evening, I was working at the reception desk and got a phone call: “What would you do if two Sisters came in around nine-thirty?”  To this I responded, “I would welcome them, and attend to their needs.”  (Perhaps the story of Abraham, which I had been preparing for the morrow’s non-denominational service for our residents inspired this answer.) 
 
Two of our Sisters would be passing through on their way to a celebration at Mt. Carmel, ND the next morning.  They would spend the night. 
 
A little while later, another call came from Hankinson, in which I was invited to travel with them for the event. 
 
Having a number of commitments planned, I said that it probably wouldn’t work, but that I would think about it. 
 
Everything fell neatly into place, and I was able to go.  Residents did a beautiful job taking care of the sacristy for me, for example. 
 
On the way, we past numerous fields of canola.  It was striking!  It made a person almost envy those living in the vicinity for the beauty that surrounded them. 
 
I am grateful for a much needed getaway! 
 
When I got back, feeling a little bad for missing the non-denominational service after all (since we didn’t get back on time), I led a little hymn-singing session in the front lobby.  I was at the front desk, and so could not do a service in chapel. 
 
I am grateful for the opportunity to celebrate with the people there, and appreciate those who made this getaway possible. 
 
Our Lady of Mount Carmel, please pray for us!

This morning, after Mass, Father stopped us in the kitchen, saying that we should sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Sr. Elaine.  I had prayed for her in the petitions at Mass.  We even sang the second verse, and, no, I don’t mean “How old are you…”  The second verse that we usually use in our community is: “May the dear Lord bless you, and His Blessed Mother, too.  May the Angels in heaven watch over you!” 
 
The priest at Mass, just minutes before, had alluded to the angels in his homily, reflecting briefly on the first reading (Isaiah’s vision in the temple). 
 
A little while later, Sister Elaine came to the front desk to relieve me so I could go on an errand downtown.  Just then, two ladies who attend Mass here frequently, came in. 
 
They, too, had taken note that it was Sister’s special day; they had gone out and brought back a beautiful strawberry cream cake and a flavored coffee. 
 
I think it made her day! 
 
Please join me in asking the angels in heaven to watch over her in a special way!

This morning’s gospel reading about the call of St. Matthew resonated with me on a personal level, as I sat in chapel.  I had planned to sleep in, after working a third night shift within a week’s time, but I woke up and was wide awake; my clock told me it was close to 5:30 a.m.
 
This morning’s gospel told of how Jesus called Matthew, the tax collector, from his post.  This was the beginning of a whole new life for this former government employee.  You could say, he “did a 180.” 
 
I, too, have experienced a turnaround recently, and not just in my sleep schedule! 
 
I’ve been having a hard time lately, facing various challenges; it’s been a tough stretch. 
 
Yesterday, though, an unexpected conversation with our administrator was a game-changer.  Some issues were covered, and I came away with a fresh outlook on life.  With a special grace from above (yes, I’ve sure been praying), I did a 180! 
 
Often the work of our Divine Physician, who came “to seek and save what was lost” is accomplished through the simple things of life, even in something as unpretentious as good communication.   

Some of us are well aware of the fact that June 24th is supposed to be the solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist.  The fact that it is one of our Sisters’ nameday might be responsible in part for the date sticking in my mind. 
 
This year, however, since it is the Friday after Corpus Christi, June 24th will be the solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 
 
Whoever, in the Church, makes decisions about the liturgical calendar decided to move our celebration of John the Baptist’s birth to today, June 23rd. 
 
As I reflected a bit upon this, it occurred to me that this arrangement, actually, is quite appropriate on a deeper level. 
 
John the Baptist is sometimes referred to as the “forerunner” or “precursor.”  In the words of his father, Zechariah, he went “before the Lord to prepare His way.” 
 
I think it is beautifully fitting; this year John the Baptist’s great feast day immediately precedes our commemoration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, for whom he so faithfully “ma[de] ready the way.”