Last week in Bible study, one of the songs we used was “Cornerstone.”  Its catchy melody and inspiring words kept circling ‘round in my head for days after. 
 
The words, “Through the storm, He is Lord…” have been coming back again the past day or so…It has been a rather stormy time. 
 
I find dealing with staffing shortages, and people who don’t carry through, stressful and overwhelming.  Last night, I found myself feeling tired, frustrated, and just fed up. 
 
Someone was supposed to come for training for a position we’ve been trying to fill.  She never showed up, and has not responded to messages or phone calls. 
 
What a disappointment!  I had been waiting for a few days for her to start, and hadn’t been as assertive in promoting the job opening because I was hopeful that she would “work out.”  
 
No such luck. 
 
Last night, the stormy weather was starting to get the better of me.  I felt like my boat was bogged and taking on water. 
 
However, through encouragement of a couple of others, I’ve been able to see some light through the dark storm clouds. 
 
I’ve realized that I probably can’t change the weather, but I can change my attitude.  I can try to look at the extra shifts I end up working as something to offer up to our Lord, in union with His own suffering. 
 
This doesn’t make the storm go away, but I’ll fare much better if I keep my eyes on Him, rather than complaining about the inclement weather. 
 
Prayers for a sailor on stormy seas would be greatly appreciated. 

The psalm I prayed at night prayer Sunday evening (91) seemed to sum up a lesson that’s been on my heart lately:
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High and abides the shade of the Almighty, says to the Lord, my refuge, my God in whom I trust.” 
 
The past months have been stretching me in the area of faith and trust, leading me to pray recently for an increase in these virtues. 
 
Then, over the weekend, someone suggested and passed on to me a special prayer of surrender and trust.  It has been a bit of a game-changer for me.  
 
I thought I was getting better at this whole “trust and surrender thing,” but events this evening let me know that I’m not there yet. 
 
However, I find encouragement in St. Paul’s words to the Philippians (1:6): “the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus.”
 
I need to just keep coming back to Jesus and try to keep my eyes on Him.  I have been noticing, too, that when I start to surrender and trust more, my focus is set more on Jesus and less on myself and my problems. 

In this month of January, which is set to honor the Holy Name of Jesus, I am preparing a talk for our women's group on this topic.

Today is actually the optional memorial of the Holy Name of Jesus, which has long been held dear by the Franciscans.  We even got to use our red Franciscan supplement book today for the Liturgy of the Hours.

For this wonderful occasion, I would like to share a quote from the Catechism as well as several pertinent scripture verses which I found when doing research for my talk. 

I hope you find them fruitful, and encourage you to pray with them.

“But the one name that contains everything is the one that the Son of God received in his incarnation: JESUS. The divine name may not be spoken by human lips, but by assuming our humanity The Word of God hands it over to us and we can invoke it: "Jesus," "YHWH saves." The name "Jesus" contains all: God and man and the whole economy of creation and salvation. To pray "Jesus" is to invoke him and to call him within us. His name is the only one that contains the presence it signifies. Jesus is the Risen One, and whoever invokes the name of Jesus is welcoming the Son of God who loved him and who gave himself up for him.”  Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2666

Isaiah 9:6   For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
 
Mark 16:17-18   "In my name They shall take up serpents; and if they shall drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them: they shall lay their hands upon the sick, and they shall recover".
 
Matthew 1:21 “She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”
 
John 14:13-14 “Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it.”
 
Luke 10:17   The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!”
 
Acts 3:6      But Peter said, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!”
 
Acts 4:12    And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.
 
Romans 10:13     For “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
 
Phil. 2:10  “Though He was in the form of God, Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at.  Rather, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a slave…so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow” 
 
Colossians 3:17 "All whatsoever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ..." 

For Christmas, we each received a beautifully molded wire piece from a friend of our community, of the name of Jesus (pictured above).  I attached it to the gold trim on the ambo in our chapel for today's memorial.

Earlier this week, after my shift at the front desk and attending weekly care conferences, I went home for a much awaited job: setting up the nativity scene in our convent chapel. 
 
Ever since my childhood, I’ve been drawn to the crèche!
 
Back home, as we grew up, we had a special stable; my dad had made our wooden stable, and my mom had painted the ceramic figures.  We had real straw from our friends’ farm.  There are photos of me, sitting admiringly in front of the stable in our living room.  One time, if I remember correctly, my mom didn’t know where I was, and she found me there, quietly looking at the scene.  As we decorated, we would reenact the story of the first Christmas, putting the figures in place. 
 
I don’t get to help with all the decorating around here, and in the past, have missed not being able to put up the nativity set some years. 
 
I was glad to be able to do it again this year.
 
Thinking about it now, this life-long love for the manger scene fits in very well with my life, as I am part of a Franciscan community.  It was St. Francis, after all, who first (as far as we know) had the Christmas story reenacted at Greccio. 
 
As our constitutions say, “was captured by the love of Christ in the crib, on the cross, and in the Eucharist.”
 
I pray that St. Francis may intercede for us, and our world now, that we may grow closer to Christ each day, and become more and more like Him.

This afternoon, I went out for some much needed fresh air and exercise. 

As I walked the ten-block trek to the Church where I was meeting a friend for a "rosary walk," I found myself interiorly musing about the winter landscape. 
 
“It’s beautiful,” I thought to myself.
 
Not being one who especially loves winter or the cold, I kind of surprised myself by my grateful, positive attitude. 
 
Although it causes inconvenience and is not necessarily pleasant, snow certainly does have a beauty of its own.  When untarnished by human or animal activity, snow is so pure and clean. 
 
These musings, actually, were fitting on this the eve of the Immaculate Conception, as I prepared to celebrate this special feast of Mary. 
 
Pure white snow, after all, can be a beautiful and appropriate image for this solemnity.

After a year in which I’ve often been inclined to sigh “how long?”, some words of Saint Teresa of Avila gave me a nudge to be grateful for the struggles I face:

• Hope, O my soul, hope. You know neither the day nor the hour. Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one. Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.

So, in her mind, a finite period of suffering leads to an eternal increase in joys.  Pondering this makes it seem foolish to lament our struggles, but it’s hard to help it.  Even though we know there’s a bigger picture, it can be hard to see past our present pains. 
 
Thank God for His gift of hope!  I’ve actually been hearing a fair amount about hope lately.  It seems to be a popular theme across multiple venues. 
 
Hope is important.  It keeps us from discouragement, sustains us when abandoned, and opens our hearts in expectation of heaven (CCC 1818).  As the Catechism further tells us, our hearts are made to desire happiness.  Hope directs our hearts to seek heaven. 
 
Paul puts it well in 2 Corinthians 4:17-18: “For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen.”
 
Hope lies in fixing our eyes on Jesus!  As the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews states: “since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus…” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
 
This leads us to another inspiration for hope: the lives of the saints.  They’ve gone through similar trials, yet endured in faith, hope and love.  Now, they are enjoying life forever in heaven!
 
But, how do we deal with the here and now?  How do we endure when it seems that one storm surge encroaches upon another?  How do we keep hope when we end up praying, day after day, for help with a situation?
 
I don’t pretend to have perfect answers to these questions…I have struggled with them, myself. 
 
However, I believe that part of the answer can be found in the upcoming celebration of Thanksgiving.  If we focus on the gifts that God gives us every day, rather than on the struggles, we can have a more positive outlook; we can be happier and more hopeful. 
 
It seems we would do well to follow the advice found in Romans 12:12: "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer."

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! 

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!

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. 

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.

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.   

This morning, I was reading for Mass.  After the first reading, I glanced down and saw the words of Psalm 95.  Due to extenuating circumstances, I hadn’t prepared the readings.
 
On looking at the familiar passage, it was all I could do to keep from singing the psalm!  Due to my work schedule, I’d missed singing the responsorial here this past weekend, so I felt musically deprived. 
 
The musical setting I know for today’s psalm is so beautiful! 
 
Come, let us sing joyfully to the Lord, let us kneel before the Rock of our Salvation,; let us come into His presence with thanksgiving; let us joyfully sing songs to Him.
 
I guess, in a way, this psalm, with its exhortations to ‘sing to the Lord’ was especially appropriate today.  As we waited for Father, we spontaneously decided to sing a couple of hymns.  After “Amazing Grace” and “Be Thou My Vision,” it was time for Mass!
 
It was so good to sing together again.  We hadn’t had Mass here as regularly of late, and this form of “praying twice” (to use a phrase attributed to St. Augustine) felt so good to have here again! 
 
This beautiful psalm was also appropriate on a deeply spiritual level.  As Father mentioned in his homily, it referred to the hardening of one’s heart.  He reminded us that this is a danger we should be aware of and pray against.
 
“If today you hear His voice, harden not your heart!”

The past few months have been a bit challenging for me, and countless others, I'm sure.

I was down for the count in mid-December, and still have some lingering issues.  Along with periodic sore throat, continued fatigue still plagues me, though it is better than it was.

So, whereas I used to get up often at 5:15 a.m., allowing for an hour of prayer to start off my day, these days, I end up pushing off my rising time about an hour, just barely sneaking into chapel before our Morning Prayer of he liturgy of the hours. 

I fit in the hour of privite prayer called for in our constitutions before the day is over (sometimes in pieces), but it's just not quite the same as starting the day with prayer. 

I loved coming into our chapel, in the quiet stillness of early morning, when no one else was there yet, and praying through the day's Mass readings, etc. 

I guess I shouldn't say that "no one else was there," because the One who goes before me (Deuteronomy 1:30, Psalm 139:5, Isaiah 52:12) is already there "waiting," you might say. 

Last night, for some reason, I thought of this and it hit me: "I miss our early morning visits."  My days felt more grounded when I started them with this extended time of prayer. 

Maybe, this time of reduced energy has given me an even greater appreciation for these quiet times. 

When I was home with my mom, I didn't have as much of a chance to pray before the Blessed Sacrament.  This deficiency, too, in its own way, can deepen my appreciation for the immense blessing of having Jesus physically present with us in our convent and at our workplace.

Writing this is a reminder to me to be more grateful for this enormous gift. 

Hopefully, before too long, I'll be able to resume early morning visits with a renewed appreciation for them!

I finally made it back to Grand Forks, after over three weeks away (due to extenuating circumstances).  A number of tasks awaited me, and I set to work unpacking and getting caught up. 
 
One situation that needed prompt attention was a shortage of Hosts.  Due to other circumstances, we have not been able to have daily Mass here the last couple of weeks.  In order to offer Communion for our residents (who are unable to go out for Mass), something needed to be done. 
 
I called the pastor of our parish and we made arrangements to remedy this. 
While I had been away, the new brochures which I’d ordered had come in.  I was anxious to get some out into the community.
 
Consequently, on one of the coldest days of the year (13 below without wind chill), I ended up having “a walk to remember.”
 
Dressed up in fleece pants (under my jumper), a hooded scarf, ski gloves, and my nice, warm jacket, I carried a deep, zippered tote bag to the 12:10 Mass. 
 
It actually was a multipurpose trip.  I was able to drop off brochures, attend Mass, and bring home hosts for our residents. 
 
It is quite the experience, carefully carrying the Blessed Sacrament ten blocks!
 
It is truly amazing that God, in His wonderful love for us, allows a mere creature, sinful and weak, to do such a thing, and that He comes to us in such humility. 
 
No wonder St. Francis so poignantly writes: “O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! The Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God so humbles Himself that for our salvation He hides Himself under an ordinary piece of bread! Brothers, look at the humility of God, and pour out your hearts before Him. Humble yourselves so that you may be exalted by Him! Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, so that He Who gives Himself totally to you may receive you totally!”

A week and a half ago, I spent some time in the afternoon (after finishing my shift at the reception desk and attending resident care conferences) cutting up some bread. 
 
We had received a large donation of day-old Panera breads of all kinds: sour dough, cinnamon-sugar glazed, and more.  After advertising it to our staff (for them to help themselves) and taking some for our kitchen’s use, there was still quite a bit left.  Two viable options (besides just sticking it all in the freezer) arose for me.  Croutons and bread pudding could both be made out of leftover bread.  I ended up making some of each, using sour dough loafs for the former and cinnamon-sugar glazed bagels for the latter. 
 
Unfortunately, though, the project left a tender blister on the forefinger of my left hand.  (Yes; I am a lefty.)  Finally, I noticed this morning that it has really started to heal.  The now crusty area is actually shrinking a little.  It sure was sore for a while, though!
 
I think of this after hearing and reflecting upon the gospel reading this Sunday as well as a poem that was shared from a funeral of a Sister we know.  The poem was about “The Hands of a Sister.”  It chronicled some of the different types of work religious Sisters have traditionally done: forming and teaching little children, caring for the sick, etc. 
 
Some of the deeds described there were not ones that I am called to engage in.  Nonetheless, it made me think about my hands and what they do on a daily basis.  I pray they may always serve in a way pleasing to Our Lord.
 
I think this Sunday’s gospel (about the servants entrusted with varying amounts of money) fits with this reflection, also.  Like these servants, each of us will be called to give an account for how we used what was given to us, what our “hands” did with the gifts we received. 
 
I hope and pray that, like the first two servants, at the end of our lives, each of us will have a good return to show on God’s investment in us.
 
However, as I write this, I can’t help but think about St. Therese of Lisiuex’s reflection on empty hands: “In the evening of life I shall appear before you with empty hands, for I am not asking you, Lord, to count my works.” 
 
Her humble, trusting attitude is something for us to really think about and seek to emulate. 
 
While my hands are engaged in the humble work of cutting up old bread, washing out a resident’s support socks, or taking someone’s temperature, my eyes (inspired by the Little Flower) can be fixed in trust on Jesus.

These words from this morning’s responsorial psalm seem especially appropriate in November of 2020. 
 
Times are uncertain; that’s for sure.
 
Just now, one of our staff had to leave work unexpectedly…I guess I’ll be filling in this evening as an aide. 
(The earth’s ‘shakiness’ has hit closer to home since I began typing this.) 
 
If you haven’t done so already, I’d encourage you to take a moment and read this beautiful psalm (46). 
 
We all know and have heard about God’s omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence.  However, it’s good to be reminded of the implications this theological doctrine has in our lives today. 
 
Despite rising CoronaVirus case numbers, election issues, and everything else we’re facing, God still “is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in distress.” 
 
Turning to Him for support, we need not fear, “though the earth be shaken or the mountains fall into the depths of the sea.”
 
Currently, I’m reading a book about mercy.  It includes passages from St. Faustina’s diary and encouragement to pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy (as well as to practice the works of mercy).
 
At this time, which can stretch our faith and trust, I think it is especially appropriate to pray this powerful prayer: for ourselves, for our nation, and for our world.
 
It is also good to remind ourselves to keep our eyes on Jesus.  If we do this, the earth’s ‘shaking’ shouldn’t get to us as much.

As I sat in chapel yesterday morning, reading over the scripture readings for Mass, one phrase especially struck me: "...he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world..."

This passage from Ephesians (1:1-10) explains how God our Father chose us in Christ to be holy and without blemish.  This whole reading is worth pondering, but that would be a topic for another article.

I'd like to go back to the titular phrase of this post: "Before the foundation of the world."

Isn't that amazing to think about?  According to a quick Google search, our planet is about four and a half billion years old!  That's nine zeros (well, actually 8, with the five in place of one of them)!  Can you imagine how long that is? 

If you and I perhaps live to be 80, which seems to be about the average life expectency nowadays, our planet's foundations would have been laid 56,250,000 lifetime's ago! 

Holy macro!

God has had us in mind for a long time!  He's had a long time to figure things out.  Actually, that's not quite right, I think He's had a plan all along.  So when things aren't going well, when things look dark, I can find consolation in this.  I can remind myself of this; He has a loving plan for our good.

I am reminded of a scripture verse which articulates this message well.  It was etched in my memory by a youth group trip a number of yeaers back: "For I know well the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for your woe, plans to give you a future full of hope."  We went around the group (probably on the bus), inserting the name of each person into the passage, ending with an enthusiastic "Jeremiah Twenty NINE Eleven!"

It is beautiful and touching to realize that God's loving plan for my life preceeded the very foundation of the world. 

Today, now, as we honor St. Margaret Mary (known for the revelations of the Sacred Heart), I gratefully recall the words of Psalm 33: "the plans of his heart [stand] from age to age."

This beautiful time of year is rich in so many memories, so many wonderful times with family and friends, along with the beautiful colors of the leaves that are now starting to fall from the trees.  

It’s also the time for high school “Homecoming.”  However, this year, I’m sure events are being curtailed or modified due to the Coronavirus.  

Nonetheless, this week, I had my own sort of homecoming.  I was invited to come down to our provincial house in Hankinson to help with our community’s newsletter.  It’s been a while since an issue came out.  

I had never worked on layout for this particular newsletter before (although I had written a few articles for it over the years), so it was a new experience.  It was a fun challenge to undertake, though.

I arrived at the convent about 1 p.m. Tuesday, and, after bringing my bags upstairs, met right away with the Sister whom I was to help with this project.  

After an afternoon of work, it was time to join the other Sisters in the chapel for the rosary and vespers.
 
As I walked into the large chapel and found the pew that I have been using during recent visits, a sense of homecoming came over me. 
 
This was the place where I had begun my formation for religious life, and where I had made my vows.  It was the place that I had first visited as a 24 year-old, not too long out of college. 
 
While it was not the house I grew up in, as a “Hankinson Franciscan,” it is a sort of spiritual home.  
 
I am grateful to God for bringing me here, for guiding my along my life’s path, and calling me to this amazing (if, at times, challenging) vocation. 
 
I pray and trust that He will continue to be with me on this journey; I hope, too, that one day I may have a final homecoming in heaven. 

Oh; what a week I’ve had!  It’s been Crazy, with a capital C! 
 
A situation came up for me last Thursday (without going into detail) where I felt I was being treated both unjustly and without good common sense.  It has continued all week, unfortunately. 
 
While I’ve been struggling with feelings of anger, and trying to sort through things, Sunday’s readings have definitely given me a strong nudge away from harboring a grudge. (I’ll have to keep working at this!)  The first reading from Sirach exhorted: “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.”  Then the gospel of the unforgiving servant drove the message home. 
 
Monday’s feast of the Exultation of the Holy Cross shed even more light on this lesson of forgiveness: If Jesus, hanging on the cross, cried out: “Father, forgive them; they know not what they do,” how can I harbor a grudge against others, whose offense dims in the light of all that Christ suffered for us! 
 
Yet, at the same time, I know He understands my pain, my situation.  He is with me when I feel angry.  Also, he’s carried it all already.
 
At Monday’s Mass, after communion, I sang the beautiful chant “Adoramus Te, Christe,” having committed it to memory during Holy week a couple of years ago.  The words that really touched my heart now where: “redemesti mundum,” “[because by your Holy Cross] You have redeemed the world.”
 
At Mass, I am able to offer this suffering, this feeling of injustice, this frustration, united to the cross of Christ.  It is wondrous to realize that “he’s got this!” This crazy situation in the world, and in my life, is already incorporated into His paschal mystery. 
 
No matter how dark things may look, we can remember that he has redeemed the world.
 
Adoramus Te, Christe!

Our Lady of Sorrows, Help of Christians and Cause of our Joy, please pray for us!

Although he's not a patron of mine, or a saint of our Franciscan order, today's memorial of St. Peter Claver has resonated with me during my adult life. 
 
On this feast, which I also remember as the birthday of the sister of my best friend from childhood, my mind tends to go back to a visit I made with the St. Peter Claver Sisters, who had a house a little ways away from my home.  When I was first exploring religious life in my early twenties, I spent a day or two with them for a brief experience of life as a Sister.  I even volunteered a little for them afterward, helping with a writing project for their Echo magazine.  I pray for both these Sisters and the sister of my friend on this memorial.
 
In his homily today, Father mentioned the aid, physical and spiritual, that St. Peter gave to the African slaves as they arrived in Colombia.  I was reminded of the movie Roots, which I saw as a child or early teen.  It definitely made an impression on me; I can still remember seeing footage of captives in the terrible conditions of the slave ship, practically piled on top of each other.  It was only years later that I learned about the Saint who met these poor people and shared Christ’s love with them. 
 
St. Peter Claver’s example of charity is a reminder to me of the call to love those who the world might see as “the least of my brothers.”  This gospel call aligns with our mission to the elderly and disabled here at St. Anne’s.  Today, if I let it, can serve as an examination of conscience and an impetus to do better in my own life. 
 
An amazing fact about St. Peter Claver, also mentioned in today’s homily, is that he baptized about 300,000 people during his 40 years of service to the African captives.  According to my calculations, this means that about twenty people a day were brought into God’s family through his ministry!
 
St. Peter Claver, please pray for us!

In doing a little research for this post, I realized that the titular phrase refers to air rather than water, being from the air force hymn.
 
Oh well, for some reason, this patriotic song popped into mind while I was swimming this afternoon.  (I suppose a musical program from the recent Fourth of July holiday probably had something to do with it.)
 
I now have a standing invitation to use the private pool of some friends of ours, and today was the second time I’ve taken advantage of it.  An hour of fun in the water was “just what the doctor ordered” for me! 

I didn’t know if my tentative plans would work out, due to time limitations and impending rain, but I am grateful for God’s providence in allowing me this much needed opportunity!
 
I’m glad my college swimming instructor wasn’t there watching me, because I really didn’t follow all the rules for proper strokes.  I didn’t care, though: I got some good exercise, had fun, and was able to work out some tense muscles.
 
I enjoyed swimming under water, floating on a foam “noodle,” and even jumping off the diving board (until my ears popped, that is).
 
The world under water certainly looks a lot different than that which we’re accustomed to seeing above. 
 
It does the soul (and body) good, however, to get away from the stress of everyday life once and a while; going off into the “wild blue yonder” with an afternoon swim can be a great way of doing this. 
 
Together with the water creatures who, in Daniel 6 are urged to “bless the Lord,” I was moved to give thanks to Him whose “mercy endures forever.”

Is it just me, or have the last three and a half months been especially challenging, stretching us in unprecedented ways?
 
This has definitely been my experience, in more ways than one.  Working in a long-term care setting at this time can certainly be described as “stressful.” 
 
Between being on high alert, sanitizing surfaces and taking temperatures, etc. to dealing with tensions that arise from people being frazzled and exhausted, to facing uncertainty and seemingly constant changes, these times certainly take their toll on a person.
 
I am reminding myself, as I write this post, to be careful not to let this stress get the better of me!  (I’ll admit that it has, on occasion, in the past.) I need to try not to be short or unkind with others as a result of the pressure. I am so grateful for the fresh start given in the Sacrament of Reconciliation!
 
I’m glad, too, that all of this struggle does not go to waste. 
 
Years ago, I learned to offer all this “stuff” of my daily life, the “prayers, works, joys, and suffering,” as well as any concerns, placing it on the altar (in my mind’s eye) at the time of the offertory at Mass.
 
Not only can I bring these challenges to Jesus during private prayer in front of the tabernacle (or throughout the day), I can also lay them all before Him, on the altar, when “assisting” at Mass.

This morning, as we finished the first Mass at St. Anne’s since March 18th, the closing response seemed especially appropriate!
 
Due to the ban on visitation in light of COVID-19, St. Patrick’s Day was the last time we were actually able to have Mass celebrated here. 
 
Yesterday afternoon, we learned that a priest who recently moved in here was interested in offering Mass here on the morrow at 9 a.m.; it would be open to us and our residents. 
 
I’d have to dust off my sacristan hat in a hurry! 
 
I had to make sure the wine and hosts were still good, and change the lectionary and missal from Lent to the twelfth week of Ordinary Time.  I had to find a Mass stipend, and attend to other details. 
 
I guess, I was still a bit rusty because, at 8:58 a.m., Father asked me if I was going to light the candles.  After struggling to light the new lighting taper, I finally got the candles lit.  (Fire Hazard Warning: You cannot blow out a match while wearing a mask.  Make sure to take off your mask before working with matches to avoid burns or uncontrolled flames.)
 
I got back to my seat and remembered that I needed my bell to ring at the epiclesis and consecration.  Back to the cupboards I went!)
 
Other than that, everything went very well.  We felt so blessed to have Mass here once again.  It was wonderful!
 
I really am blessed!  Despite living in a very challenging time, I have so gifted!  Along with the greatest blessing of life and the sacraments, God continues to bless me in so many ways; if only I would remember that more!
 
I’ll share a couple of timely examples:
 
This week, we received a donated Baldwin piano!  We’re having trouble with the electric piano we have, and I’ve been dreaming of a real piano for a while now.  Now, this dream has become a reality!  I’m looking forward to playing it for our residents Sunday afternoon.
 
Also, a friend of ours has offered me the use of her private swimming pool.  This evening, I’m finally going to be able to take advantage of it!  This is very exciting because I’m a little fish (I love the water), but rarely get to swim anymore.
 
As if that weren’t enough for a list of blessings, we are getting company this evening for tomorrow’s board meeting.  I am very much looking forward to a visit from three of our Sisters. 
 
With all of this in mind, especially the blessing of having Mass in our own chapel again, it was with great fervor that I responded to Father’s closing statement: “Thanks be to God!”