What a beautiful fall day! 
 
After work at the front desk, reading hour for our residents, and a little time in chapel, I headed outside to our garden.  I needed to pull the sheets off our peppers that I had placed there last night in case of frost.
 
I just had a short time before I wanted to head over for confession at the local church. 
 
While out in the back yard, I found another squash growing and a couple of tomatoes that were more than ready to be picked.  I brought the tomatoes inside before heading on my way.
 
It was the perfect day for a reflective walk to and from! 
 
As I returned home, it struck me that I could make good on my recent resolution to “avoid the near occasion of sin” by peeling carrots – of all things! 
 
We didn’t have any carrots in our garden, but there’d been a bag of purchased ones in our refrigerator for about of month. 
 
They were just waiting to be eaten. 
 
Instead I, far too easily, grab the nearest high-carb, low-nutrient, food item despite my intent to cut back and eat healthier. 
 
I was prompted, as I walked down the sidewalk, surrounded by beautiful golden leaves and turning trees, to avoid temptation by making healthier food more accessible…a tangible, easy step was buried on the bottom shelf of our fridge! 
 
I got back, and used some of the short time I had in peeling and cutting up several delicious carrots. 
 
I even had a few moments to practice organ for tomorrow before having to be back at the front desk to give the other receptionist a supper break! 

Thursday evening, I was happily able to help sing for a “Night of Praise” (Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament accompanied by some music).  I love this combination of music with adoration!
 
It’s a little bit of heaven on earth, as I told a friend afterward. 
 
Earlier in the week, I’d gotten an email from the liturgy coordinator asking us to meet in the bell tower to practice a bit beforehand.  I had to ask him how to get there, as I’m kind of a rookie at this! 
 
After a little practice, we went to the choir loft, where we spent the beautiful hour. 
 
One word struck me through this experience: blessed.  A couple of the songs we sang centered around this theme of “blessing the Lord.”  Furthermore, I felt truly blessed by this opportunity.
 
Later in the evening, during another conversation, I got to musing about the significantly different uses of the word blessed.  To me, it almost seemed a bit strange that the same word had such contrasting uses, though they all share positive connotations. 
 
We pray “Bless us…and these your gifts.”  We say, “I am blessed by so many good things.”  We sing, “Bless the Lord, O my soul.”
 
As I thought about this linguistic enigma a bit more, I was struck with the roots of the word in the romance languages.  Interestingly enough, our beautiful time with Jesus neared its conclusion with “benediction.”  Bene-diction means blessing!
 
As I thought of that word, I broke it down; bene means good and diction means saying/ speaking. 
 
So, blessing is a good statement, a good word, in a sense. 
 
I pondered how this applies to our various uses of the word blessing.  When we “bless the Lord,” in a sense, we are saying a good word about Him. 
 
It struck me that, in creation, all God had to do was say the word, and it was.  When Jesus healed, He just had to say the word (although sometimes He used touch and other means as well). 
 
When God blesses us, all He has to do is say the word!
 
I’m not a linguist, but these were the ponderings that came from my beautiful experience the other night.  

Monday and Tuesday, Sister Elaine and I “crossed the river” to attend Mass at Sacred Heart Church in East Grand Forks since most of the priests of the Fargo Diocese are gone for their workshop/gathering. 
 
As we were driving home Tuesday morning, we started talking about bridges. 
 
I noted that there is an interesting difference between “back home,” where the bridges over the Mississippi are known for the street they are on (e.g., Robert, Smith, Wabasha), and Grand Forks, where they seem to have special names unrelated to their location.
 
Sr. Elaine mentioned an interesting tidbit.  She said that there was a saying that “Sr. Fortuna helped build the Kennedy Bridge,” since she used to sit outside and watch the construction being done on it. 
 
This would have been around the early 1960s. 
 
I had heard about Sr. Fortuna when studying the history of our province as a postulant or novice, but I hadn’t remembered that she had been in Grand Forks.  Sr. Fortuna had been such an important person in the history of the community in Hankinson; I found it interesting that she had ties up here in “the North Country.”
 
This morning, Sr. Elaine had to cross the river all by herself since I am working the front desk and will go to St. Mike's this evening.  The priests are scheduled to be back for the evening Mass. 

After lunch, I went in to chapel.  I wanted to set up for tomorrow’s morning Mass.  Although I’ve done this during the wee hours of the morning when working the night shift, I’ve never set up for Mass this far in advance!  The reason for this is that Father will be without a sacristan in the morning, though I briefly instructed one of our residents in the minimal basics. 
 
Just now, I put everything in place with the chalice, complete with veil and corporal, and put it back in the cupboard.  All they’ll have to do in the morning is pull it out (plus lighting candles and putting on the mic). 
 
I hadn’t really expected to be leaving so soon, but plans have changed in a wonderful way!
 
Last evening, at the end of my phone call with Sr. Mary Ruth in Rugby, the topic of the weekend’s travel came up.  We have a community meeting tomorrow at our provincial house in Hankinson.  The Sisters from Rugby will be travelling down this evening for the occasion, while the car from Grand Forks is set to leave promptly at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning. 
 
A couple of times during the past week, I’ve had the nagging thought, “It sure would be nice to ride down with the Sisters from Rugby!”  Our convent is pretty much on their way.  This would give me a little extra time away to be with our Sisters at the provincial house. 
 
I thought I might have to work this evening, and also did not want to invite myself, so I didn’t do anything about it.  I should say I didn’t do anything but pray. 
 
That little word should not be underestimated! 
 
I entrusted the situation and my desire to Our Lord, giving it over to Him and moving on with my life.  I tried not to give it much more thought. 
 
Yesterday at table, though, I hinted at my little far-fetched hope with my superior.  At this point, it was just a desire that I thought would probably be unfulfilled since I had no intentions of inviting myself.  Nonetheless, she nonchalantly said that I could go early with them if it worked out. 
 
So, here I am Friday afternoon, after getting up early to get cookies made for our residents.  I’ve started throwing some things together, but am not quite ready yet (physically).  Interiorly, I am more than ready and so excited for the opportunity to get away and have a nice time with our Sisters.

Yesterday turned into kind of a different day.  I ended up working the p.m. (aide) shift, after finishing my eight hours at the front desk. 
 
My first duty was to serve snacks.  As I went into the activity room to provide nourishment to our starving residents (whose sustenance had been delayed a good half hour), I remembered that I had a tray of brownies in the freezer.  They had been sent home with us from a recent parish mission where we Sisters from St. Anne’s spoke last Monday. 
This unexpected time of serving snacks was the perfect opportunity for me to use these up and treat our residents.  I was happy for the chance to “move them along.”
 
I took several bars off the tray and onto a plate to stick in the microwave. 
 
I hope our residents enjoyed their treat as I continued my unforeseen afternoon activities.
I made it through the rest of the shift, and topped off the night by starting on a fun project (also unexpected).  I read about holding a cute pet photo contest as a fundraiser and thought it would be perfect for St. Anne’s, where I work, in honor of St. Francis’ feast day coming up. 
 
Before taking a shower and going to bed, I started setting that up.

But rather, love your enemies and do good to them,
and lend expecting nothing back;
then your reward will be great
and you will be children of the Most High,
for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
Be merciful, just as also your Father is merciful.
“Stop judging and you will not be judged.
Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.
Forgive and you will be forgiven. (Luke 6)
 
Today’s gospel was a reminder to me of a lesson that I learned as a child and which is still just as valid today: we need to forgive. 
 
When I was in grade school, some of my classmates were not very nice to me, making derogatory remarks and even throwing spitballs, etc.  I was targeted because of my impaired vision.  I was a little bit ‘different’ from the other kids.  I remember being in tears one night about this, struggling to forgive the perpetrators.  I knew, from the scriptures, that we have to forgive those who hurt us if we want to be forgiven. 
 
I can remember talking to my dad about this, and him trying to console me.  Nonetheless, I knew what I was called to do.  I was called to forgive those who had hurt me, just as the gospels said.  I remember praying, as a seventh grader or so, for the grace to do just that.  I believe my prayer was answered.  I was able to forgive and move on from these childhood hurts.
 
Unkind words and harmful behaviors, unfortunately, do not end with childhood, however.  This year, I’ve had my struggles with a few people.  The gospel this morning, and this pivotal childhood memory, urge me to make an effort to forgive these people and not to harbor grudges against them.  I don’t have to engage in superfluous conversations with people who have a history of being unkind to me, but I do have to forgive them.
 
I am called to pray for them and love them. 

This morning after Mass, as he passed by the front desk, Father said, “So the Rugby Sisters are coming?!”  The good news had obviously been relayed to him by Sr. Elaine.
 
We hadn’t been sure if our Sisters in Rugby would be keeping the Labor Day weekend tradition, as they also had been invited to a wedding, but just last night, Sr. Rebecca got news that they were indeed coming, and right after school today! 
 
We had thought that they probably would come late Saturday, so this news was a pleasant surprise. 

Earlier in the week, I had been looking to the weekend with some trepidation, knowing it would be a busy one with work and other commitments and also a certain situation I was a bit uneasy about.  Now, however, with this good news of a weekend with our visiting Sisters, my attitude has shifted. 
 
Ever since I was a novice in Rugby (quite a few years ago now), this Labor Day tradition has been a beautiful part of my life.  The Sisters at Little Flower Convent in Rugby travel to Grand Forks to spend the weekend with the Sisters at St. Anne’s Convent. 
 
The same delightful arrangement is also part of the Thanksgiving weekend experience, though last year it was drastically curtailed due to COVID concerns. 
 
Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!

Several years ago, during the "Year of Faith," I offered a discussion group, Catechism Chats, for our residents, where we read and discussed The Catechism of the Catholic Church. 

Well, actually, rather than reading the entire document, we just read the chapter summary sections, called "In Brief," taking turns around the table.

One time, by mistake, one of the residents started reading the other text within the chapter (which we had been skipping over), and was reprimanded by a fellow resident, "Just the briefs, just the briefs!"  We burst out laughing at the reference unwittingly made to adult diapers.

I bring this humorous episode up because, this past month, I re-instated these fun little "chats."  One of our residents was commenting on how she should really make an effort to  learn more about her faith.  One thing led to another, and now, Thursday evenings have an added dimension for me.  

I don't know about you, but, on occasion, I've started an undertaking and then wonder if it really was a good idea, after all.  A sweet comment by one of our ladies last night put any doubts about Catechism Chats to rest.  She's a bit hard of hearing, and not even Catholic, but she told me what a wonderful session it had been!  She had deeply appreciated and enjoyed it. 

I was touched.

I just got back from several days with my family in West St. Paul.  It was such a blessing to be 'home' again after some very challenging months, to see old, familiar faces and places.

I was especially blessed to see and visit with my "little sister" again since it's been about two years since we've been together. 

One highlight of this home visit was a girls' day trip to Stillwater, where we had lunch and walked along the St. Croix River.  We even crossed the bridge and went into Wisconsin (barely). 

Trips home, like this, often make me reflect back on my life, on all that has happened and all that has changed.  They also tend to renew my gratitude and give me renewed appreciation for having a chapel in our own convent and workplace; while my mom and siblings have to make a special trip to the church to visit Jesus at adoration, I just have to go down the hall.  I am spoiled, really.

Hopefully, I can maintain this appreciation throughout the months to come. 

The LORD will guard you from all evil; he will guard your soul.  The LORD will guard your coming and going both now and forever. (Psalm 121)

I sure have experienced a lot of comings and goings the past week or two.  I saw a lot of Interstate 29. 

First, we went down to our provincial house for retreat.  Then, less than two days later,  I was headed down there again for Mother Daughter Days.  I was back for two and a half days before returning there for a jubilee celebration. 

In the meantime, I certainly need the protection and help promised in this beautiful psalm.

We just got back late last evening from our annual retreat.  It is a period of prayer and reflection and conferences twice a day.  Other than this and common prayer, the days are spent pretty much in silence.

As our Constitutions state, these times of silence stir up a sort of "wholesome unrest" in us.  Even if I find it a bit challenging, even after 17 years, silence is good for my soul. 

As I was praying in Chapel late yesterday afternoon, near the close of this retreat, a phrase occurred to me that I am taking with me from these days of grace.  I heard it when I went with my novice mistress for Cursillo years ago: “Christ is counting on you – and I on Him!”

As I did a little spiritual reading during that time as well, and "happened" upon a phrase which also speaks powerfully to an important truth I need to carry with me: "Trusting in the faithfulness of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we have the courage to accept this life…" (Constitutions 2.1)

I then decided to write a poem reflecting on these things.  I thought I would share it with you today:

I remember Cursillo days long past
And a simple turn of phrase there cast
As I prepare to meet tomorrows
With their share of trial and sorrow.

“Christ is counting on you – and I on Him!”
Is more than just a fleeting whim.
It sums up well the thoughts of my heart
As from this dear place I now depart.

It seems I have ample grace – right now
On this day when we renewed our vows.
After a nice talk with Sister, too,
I have new courage for what I must do.

But I’ll need new courage for each new day
As I am stretched along the way
And so I pray: “I’m counting on you,
To support me and see me through.

I need your Spirit each new day,
My ‘soul’s most welcome guest’ to stay!”

I am leaving tomorrow for retreat, but I haven't begun to pack.  There's plenty going on here, and it will go on with or without me.

Prayers for the retreat and for special intentions would be appreciated.

God bless you all!

I have a fairly busy day here once I get off from my “regular” work at the front desk at 1:30 p.m.  I have reading hour for our residents at 2, apples to cut up, and, if I get time, a little cleaning to do.  We’ll see how far I make it. 
 
My time is limited because, besides the above-mentioned tasks, I have plans later in the afternoon as well. 
 
Confessions start at 4 p.m. at the local church.  I’ll try to make it up there by around that time.  Then, I’m scheduled to read at the evening Mass; I guess I’ll stay out of trouble today!
 
Before reading this evening at Mass, I wanted to take time to reflect on the scriptures.  So, this morning, before coming to work at the front desk, I used them for my meditation time in our chapel.  I had also read them over last evening at suppertime, as we were talking about plans for the Sunday liturgy. 
 
I must say, I enjoyed the little hint of ‘attitude’ and feistiness that I read between the lines in Amos’ conversation there.  He was talking with the priest who didn’t want to deal with a prophet. 
 
It seemed as if Amos was saying: “Hey!  I never asked for this job!  Don’t pick on me!  I was minding my own business with sheep and sycamores. (Where do you think you get that nice wool and all those figs from?) 
 
God called me to prophesy – I didn’t start on my own, or take it upon myself to speak up.  If you’ve got a problem with the message, you’d better take it up with Someone else, and I wouldn’t mess with Him!”
 
Might his response remind each of us of our life’s mission, and also call us to look at our motivation for certain things we do? 
 
Could it serve as an invitation to look back on our own calling from God to our individual vocations or ministries?   
 
I think so. 

It might also call us to be open to people that we would like to reprimand or confront.  Maybe God has placed them on our path for a reason!

I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve shared anything here.  It has been busy, but I’ve also lacked inspiration.  Oh well, here I am now!
 
I thought I’d share about my morning.  It’s the first Saturday of the month, so we had our women’s gathering.  I was prepared to show a beautiful YouTube video about St. Junipero to the group, using a laptop. 
 
This morning, I got up early to get to chapel for personal prayer and set up for Mass, as well as take care of what I needed to before heading over to the local church for our event.  After this, I brought the items I needed back to the convent, where I spent a couple of minutes trying to figure out how I could best place them in my bike basket and on the handle basket to ensure optimal balance and safety on my 10 block trek. 
 
It took some readjusting, even after I had “hit the road,” but I made it to Church without incident.  I had arrived plenty early to set up everything for our gathering in plenty of time to get upstairs for Mass. 
 
I parked and locked my bike, and headed inside.  After finding an outlet and plugging in the computer, I turned it on.  A black screen with white typeface informed me that it was “unable to find operating system.”  These are not words that a computer-reliant presenter wants to read!  Despite multiple attempts, including first briefly removing the battery, the same fateful message met me when I tried turning on the machine again. 
 
Giving up on the futile effort, I decided that I’d better walk home and get a phone instead; I still had time to make it back for Mass–if I walked really fast…I didn’t want to monkey with the bike lock at this point.  It was 6:53 a.m., and 7:15 Mass was coming right up! 
 
I must admit I was a bit frazzled on the walk, but I did my best to prayerfully calm my nerves. 
 
I did make it back in time for Mass, with a few minutes to spare.  I had left the laptop plugged in while I was gone (about 20 minutes) so I gave it one more quick try in case it had built up enough charge to work.  No such luck!
 
After Mass, I went downstairs and we had a nice, if small, gathering.  We listened to the video on the phone, with its volume turned up all the way.
 
Afterword, I headed back out to my bike for the trek home, happy that I now had less items to carry (as a basket I had been carrying had been disposed of). 
 
I unlocked the bike and started on my way, but something wasn’t right.  I stopped, and discovered that my back tire was FLAT. 
 
I walked the bike back to the convent garage, where I parked it before heading back to work.
 
I don’t know if I had ridden over something, unknowingly, or if the weight of the computer and supplies was too much for the tire. 
 
Whatever the case, it was kind of a rocky road this morning! 

As promised, today I am returning to the questions I found in a little notebook from when I was on my journey toward religious life.

How many sisters are in the community? How many convents do you have?
Three of us live and work here at St. Anne’s.  In our North Dakota province, there are about 15 sisters.  World-wide, there are several hundred Franciscan Sisters of Dillingen, in Germany, Spain, Brazil, India and the US. We currently have three convents in North Dakota.  There used to be many more.
 
Does your prayer style vary between locations?
We all have the same prayer commitments (liturgy of the hours, meditation, etc.); some are in common and some private.  The time of common prayers can vary from one convent to another.  Sometimes, a particular local community has certain prayer customs that are not universal to our whole province.  For example, at St. Anne’s here, we pray a prayer to St. Anne’s in the evening before vespers.  Our other Sisters do not have this custom.  In Hankinson in the summer, the Sisters often pray the blessing of the crops since they live in a more rural setting.  We do not have this custom in my local community. 
 
Do you have a say in where you go?
A Sister is welcome to share her thoughts on this, but it is ultimately the decision of the superior. 
 
Do you have involvement with a parish or outside?
I attend Mass at the local parish on occasion.  With the COVID restrictions, I was less active for a time.  I am hoping to find opportunities for more involvement in the parish in the near future.  I am very much involved in our Grand Forks Area Catholic Women’s group, which meets on the first Saturday of each month.  I really enjoy it and appreciate the chance for faith and fellowship with the other ladies in the group. 
 
What does the vow of obedience mean?  What decisions are you able to make yourself and what do you need permission to do? 
That question is a little bit complicated to answer.  We are supposed to “discuss our plans with our superiors.”  We don’t ask our superior which blouse or jumper to wear in the morning, but if we’re going out somewhere, it’s good to talk it over/get permission from our superior, especially if we’ll be missing prayer or a meal or doing something out of the ordinary. 
 
What are the challenges and rewards of this life for you? 
One challenge is in the fact that we’re all different.  We have different ways of doing things, we grew up in different environments; we sometimes see things differently.  We have to live with the fact that we’re all different…and that’s okay.  I have to accept my fellow Sisters’ differences as they accept mine.  On the other hand, there are many rewards to our life as well.  It is wonderful to live and work under the same roof as Jesus in our tabernacles!  Our life makes a rhythm of prayer easily accessible.  We also, ideally, have support from our fellow Sisters in living this life.   We are working together for the same mission.  There is something beautiful in that.

Last evening, I searched my bookshelf for a small notebook to use for some charting I have to do.  After taking out a couple of notebooks and finding them all used up, I found a hard cover book with lines to write on that had few entries.  I grabbed it.  This little red journal would suit the job well. 
 
For fun, I looked back on what I had written there years ago.  I found a letter I had drafted to my mother to try to persuade her to my way of thinking about giving my little sister rides to school.  It was very interesting, but a little embarrassing!  I was quite an opinionated teenager!

I also found questions I had prepared, some years later, for a visit to a religious community when I was trying to find “my place.”  I had asked the questions of one of the Sisters there and recorded the answers. 
 
I though it might be interesting to share these here, and provide the answers I would now give if asked.
 
How did you come to be a [Franciscan Sister]?
That’s a long story!  Read my previous post for more about that one!
 
How often do you see your family?
We are supposed to get two weeks a year for vacation/home visit.  My family does come to visit from time to time as well. 

Are you able to maintain relationships that you had before joining?
That’s a good question…Things change when you move away, whether or not you’re in religious life.  You don’t see and talk to people as often as before.  Live moves on!  Strong friendships, though, can endure even with minimal contact.  I usually make a point to see certain people when I’m home.  
 
Are Sisters placed in services that match their talents and training? 
Ideally, the answer would be yes.  However, sometimes, we’re placed in an apostolate for which we don’t have a ton of experience/training.  Gifts we didn’t know we had can be drawn out of us, though.  Our directives, however, do urge superiors to keep a Sister’s aptitudes and training in mind when placing her out on a mission.
 
How long did you take between being acquainted with the Sisters and joining?
I first spoke with Sister Jean Louise in July.  Later that month, I visited.  By mid-August, I was back for an extended stay as an affiliate.  In January, I moved in, and on February 2nd, I became a postulant.  I guess that makes it about seven months. 
 
What is/was the mission of your order?
According to our founding,  the Sisters are to “serve God our Creator peacefully, prayerfully, ​and zealously, praising and honoring Him ​to the consolation of all believing souls.”  The Forward to our Constitutions states that “To imitate Christ in love is the way and the goal of our vocation.”  Over the centuries, our Sisters have been involved in quite a variety of ministries, from social work to making vestments to working with disabled children (to name a few).  There was even a time period when we were pretty much cloistered.  This points to the fact that, as religious, our mission is far more than what we do. 

Watch for more of this Q&A in the next week or two.

In past months, I’ve had ample cause to ponder the topic of love vs fear (inspired by 1 John 4:18).  Without too much ado, let’s just say that I’m a firm believer in balance and in taking a holistic approach, something that seems to have become somewhat counter-cultural in the past fifteen months…
 
In recent days, though, I’ve seen progress; I’ve seen signs of the triumph of love! 
 
On Sunday, my absolutely favorite feast of the liturgical year, Corpus Christi, we had Mass in our chapel.  It was absolutely wonderful!  We hadn’t been able to worship together there for a long time.  At the end of Mass, we even had our own Corpus Christi procession through the halls here.  The weather was threatening to rain and indoor walking posed less challenges for those with limited mobility, so we decided not to go outside for it.  
 
The day before, as I brought things back from the other wing (where we’d been having Mass) and put them in their rightful places in our chapel, tears welled up in my eyes.  There was such a sense of joy, restoration, and peace!
 
It certainly will be a weekend to remember.  There were other blessings as well, but I won't go into all the details.  There were some less-than-desirable occurrences as well, though.  I ended up going into urgent care for my elbow, which had become infected after a bike accident Friday morning. 
 
When one of the residents here heard about it, he said, “I hope that doesn’t stop you from riding a bike again.”  I assured him that it wouldn’t.  I will reconsider certain choices (such as taking the dog along on a leash), but I won’t let fear ruin my enjoyment and exercise. 

Growing up in Minnesota, we were told that you couldn’t have an open container of alcohol in a vehicle on the road, unless, of course, it was stowed away in the trunk. 
 
This ordinance (which is also in place in North Dakota, where I now reside) has never had ramifications in my life until just recently.
 
On Saturday, we traveled down to our provincial house, some two hours south, for a community meeting.  I so look forward to these day trips, which provide not only the chance to get away but also the opportunity to visit with our other Sisters. 
 
This time. I decided, with some encouragement from Sr. Rebecca, to bring my bottle down to show the other Sisters.  I don’t know what I should call it, vodka or vanilla. 
 
About a year ago, Sister Rebecca confiscated a bottle of vodka from one of our apartments, where tenants where getting into trouble.  My response was an excited ejaculation: “I can make vanilla!!” 
 
For some time, I had been hearing about how a person can make vanilla by adding vanilla beans to liquor.  This was the perfect opportunity to try it.
 
I didn’t have vanilla beans, and we weren’t going out shopping too much (Spring of 2020), so the bottle of booze sat untouched until I could get a hold of the needed vanilla beans. 
 
Then came the second week in June…My mom was passing through and spent the night with us on my birthday.  Previously, I had mentioned to her about the bottle of vodka and my intentions. 
 
For a birthday present, she brought me a package of vanilla beans.  We opened them and prepared them for insertion into the confiscated bottle. 
 
Ever since then, periodically, I’ve been taking it out of its place in the cabinet and swishing it around a bit to circulate the liquid. 
 
It is getting darker and smelling more and more like vanilla. 
 
It’s taken longer than I anticipated for it to process, but I’m guessing that this is probably because people in subsidized housing don’t buy the real expensive liquor.  Their check only would go far enough to cover cheap products.
 
Remembering the above ordinance from my childhood, I carefully stowed the precious bottle in a box, surrounded by rugs in the trunk of our car.  It made it safely down and back, without any trouble from the police.

I love spring! 
 
It’s my favorite season.  Now that winter’s over and I’ve regained most of my energy, I’ve gotten back into the wonderful habit of walking.  I’m not the only one who needs exercise, either; I often take Clare, the yellow lab, along. 
 
To my dismay, it seems like, all too often, she’s stopping to sniff something.  Usually, it looks like nothing more than a patch of grass or piece of debris.  I coax her on, “Come on, Clare, come on!”  She can be a real stinker! (No pun intended.)
 
This afternoon, however, the tables turned a little.  As we walked down the sidewalk, on the way to the parish office to pick up Sunday bulletins for our residents, I spotted a bush of beautiful lilacs. 
 
Now, it was my turn to stop and sniff! 
 
Clare looked at me as if to say, “What are you doing?!” 
 
Unfortunately, the lilacs in bloom were a little high up on the bush, and I couldn’t get a good sniff of them, especially with an impatient dog at hand.  I look forward, though, to seeing and smelling more of my favorite flowers in the days to come. 
 
Clare will have to be patient and wait for me!

The other evening, I got the chance to visit with a Sister from a different community.  She shared about prayers they say while dressing.  This reminded me of our own directives which encourage us to do this, and gave me a little nudge to try and be better at this practice. I do try to do this now, but definitely have room for improvement.

I decided to reach out and ask one of our own older Sisters if she remembered what prayers they used to say as they dressed.  Although she didn’t remember the exact prayers anymore, she did share her inspiring routine:

I do pray my own original ones as they come.  One goes like this: “O Lord, please clothe me with humility, gentleness, meekness, and kindness, Teach me the true spirit of poverty, chastity and obedience. Imbue me with the spirit of St. Francis and grant me the gifts and fruits of the Holy Spirit.” [Then I pray] for whatever comes to mind. I also pray for people who have died, especially family members, relatives, friends, and fellow Sisters.  I pray for people by name…If time permits, I also pray to special saints for their intercession, and for living family and friends, especially those who need the graces to return to the Church and the Sacraments, and on and on, depending how much time I have.  A person can pray for many intentions in a short time; just try it.  Of course, I call on Mary to help to me to love Jesus more, and to do all for Him during the day.

This afternoon, a friend of our Sisters stopped over; she was fitting me for a new jumper.  Hopefully, by the time it’s ready, I’ll be into a good routine of using my time while dressing to orient myself and my day toward God, as well as intercede for the needs of the world.

Thursday evening, I wrote a little poem, musing about spring.  After yesterday’s adventure (taking the dog for a run with my bike--and taking a tumble), I added some additional verses. 
 
It’s not the world’s greatest piece of literature, but I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
for patience and for hope,
for seeing tiny blades of green
above the bear earth poke --
 
Heads stretching toward the sun
to get the rays they need
to grow into healthy plants
from tiny little seeds.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
to thank our Lord above
for gifts of body and of soul
bestowed on us in love --
 
when walking down the sidewalk,
seeing birds in trees up high
or feeling needed drops of rain
fall gently from the sky.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
when a skip come to my step
with winter gone and new life around
there’s cause for greater pep.
 
Still, temps may fall and rise again;
the greening may seem slow,
but this all can help me, too,
in patience now to grow.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
to go through garage and shed,
and find the buried treasures
for the winter put to bed.
 
Yesterday, I did that,
bringing out my bike at last,
taking our dog out for a run,
though we didn’t go TOO fast.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
for scrapes and tender knees;
at the end of yesterday’s jaunt
I acquired both of these.
 
I made an unexpected turn,
the leash on the handle bars,
And suddenly, I was on the ground,
almost seeing stars.
 
This is a time of year, this spring,
for lessons old and new,
some things we learned in childhood
are valid all life through!
 
Despite the falls that sometimes come
I never tire of trying
a new adventure out in fresh spring air,
But, later, I may be sighing.

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.

You probably will never experience this, but I was thoroughly dumbfounded Saturday when Sister Christina and I drove to Hankinson, North Dakota, for our Community meeting.  I just could not remember how to use the cruise control on our car.  Yes, this is true!  We have not taken a long road trip since August of last year, seven months.  Due to the COVID
pandemic so many events were canceled including attendance at the Fargo North Dakota Long Term Care Conference, our second trip to our lake vacation, out of town board meetings.

Due to my tendency to have a “heavy foot” I need to use the cruise control.  Traveling a straight 139 miles on I-29 can tend to get one to want to hurry up.  Well, the Police Force does not agree with this thought.  Trust me; I experienced that situation one time.  And, have you ever slowed up to 55 miles an hour through Fargo, after traveling 75 miles an hour?  It’s a “crawling” sensation.  Thanks for cruise control!

Town driving in Grand Forks does not warrant the use of cruise control unless you want to be careful to drive no faster than 25 miles an hour. In fact, the cruise control does not even work when driving too slowly.  From St. Anne’s Guest Home to Hugo’s grocery store, about seven blocks, to St. Michael’s Church, about ten blocks, to the Post Office about a mile.  With the covid restrictions, we just hardly go anywhere else.

So, we are exiting the off ramp in Grand Forks unto I-29, cars whizzing past us.  So, better get up to speed.  Got to 75 mph but did not want to use foot control all the way.  Yes, cruise control!  But – how do I engage it?  Can’t remember!  Looked around. There is a devise on the steering wheel stating “CRUISE”.  O.K.  So, I pressed it.  Well, a bright orange round light lit up on the steering wheel!  Good grief! What is wrong?  What does that orange “warning light” mean?  Then my brain kicked in!  That means that the cruise is turned on and can be regulated by the control buttons on the opposite side of the steering wheel.

Needless to say, I engaged the cruise control and we “cruised” to Hankinson, plus “cruised” back home after the meeting. Slow brain – fast foot!

Sister Elaine Marie Roggenbuck, OSF