Don’t you love the Easter stories of how Jesus comes to the disciples, offering them peace, despite the fact that the doors are locked?  That little detail was no hinderance for our Lord, in His glorified state, that Easter evening. 
 
The cold reality that I don’t share this ability was made abundantly clear to me this chilly Sunday morning.
 
I had decided to make the most of this day of rest, having worked a twelve hour shift in the kitchen and being scheduled Sunday afternoon in our infirmary.  I stayed in bed until after seven! 
 
I gave myself just enough time to get dressed and unlock the doors for visitors while still being a little early for morning Office at 7:30. 
 
Thus, around 7:20, I came down the stairs from chapel and checked the door.  It seemed like it might already be unlocked.  Maybe Sr. Sara Marie had been there ahead of me, I mused.  I decided to test it to make sure, and opened the door. 
 
I stepped outside and let the door close.  I’d like to blame my foolishness on the fact that I had just crawled out of bed. 
 
Too late, I realized that the doors had NOT been unlocked.  I was locked out!
 
Now I had to make tracks or I’d be late for chapel!  I hurried off to another door for which I had a key fob so I could get in. 
 
In my sleepy haste, I headed west instead of east and ended up going the long way around the building! 
 
Finally, I made it inside out of the cool spring air and unlocked the doors.  I was in chapel about two minutes before morning prayer began, and all was well. 
 
This unplanned situation involving locked doors may have been a little blessing in disguise by which I got fresh air and exercise which I would have otherwise missed out on. 
 
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the hidden gifts you give us, even through locked doors

Soon, we will be entering the holy season of Lent with its plentiful opportunities for deepening our faith and life of prayer…parish missions and Stations of the Cross, carefully chosen personal practices of self-enrichment and self-denial, group volunteer opportunities…and the list goes on.  
 
Sometimes, though, our entrance into the holy is not preplanned and is not part of any community-wide program for formation or renewal.  Sometimes, oftentimes, the holy comes to meet is right where we’re at.
 
Last night, I was helping a Sister with bedtime preparations as I neared the last leg of my shift in our infirmary.  As I was doing so, I happened to catch a glimpse of the crucifix hanging on the wall in the adjoining room.  
 
Something in this struck a chord with me.  It was a beautiful reminder of Christ’s presence in this Sister, in this moment.  It spoke to my heart, telling me that this was, indeed, a holy moment.  
 
I may go about my day doing any number of things, updating a webpage, creating a flyer, promoting upcoming retreats, or even cleaning a bathroom.  What I do need not be something sophisticated, complex, or potentially beneficial to a large group of people.  
 
In caring for one person with patience, kindness, and even a little humor, I am given the privilege of caring for Jesus.  
 
I use the word “privilege" very intentionally here.  One of our recent popes commented on this, sharing that those involved in acts of mercy will realize that they are truly receivers in this role and not only givers.  The line in the prayer attributed to St. Francis that says, “it is in giving that we receive” rings true.  
 
As we anticipate the Lenten season of grace, I pray that you and I may be more aware of the special moments that fill our day and that you, too, may have beautiful glimpses into Christ’s presence in your everyday encounters.  This awareness, in turn, can lead to gratitude.
 
If we are aware, we have so many opportunities to meet our Lord in the mundane - or rather the holy - moments of our lives.  

Just a few days ago, I found myself reflecting that I haven’t been asked to help in the kitchen for a while.  I regretfully wondered if those days were over.  Although it’s a lot of work, these duties are kind of fun, too.  I like to be helping and don’t enjoy twiddling my thumbs.
 
My musings were soon put to rest when Karen, our retreat center coordinator, asked if I could help out on Monday and Tuesday. 
 
I was happy to do so.
 
Appropriately, I had recently come across the following passage from Colossians, which is a wonderful inspiration to direct my steps: “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
 
On Monday, after making apple bread pudding and serving breakfast, I had decided to make chili for supper the next day.  When I shared this with Karen she kind of chuckled and informed me that chili was, in fact, already on the menu for Thursday when the team would be here for the upcoming retreat. 
 
At this point, I already had a 5 lb. package of hamburger thawing in the fridge.  I quickly decided to make meatloaf instead.  Remembering the abundance of already-peeled potatoes in the cooler, I decided upon a cheesy potato casserole for a side dish. 
 
For dessert, I made a family favorite, pistachio pudding.  I had been given several boxes, first from my aunt and then from my mom when she visited last month.  This was the perfect opportunity to use a couple of them.
 
Things went well, and I was also happy to be able to use some oregano from my plant in the windowsill of our hobby room.
 
Today, now, I’m back to some of my other duties, helping in St. Mary’s (our infirmary unit) and working in the library. 
 
One never knows, though, what the day might hold!
 
The next time I find myself musing about not having done something for a while, it may just be a little nudge from above preparing me to reenter this area of service.  

I’m sorry that it’s been so long since I’ve posted here.  Life gets busy and time gets away from a person!  
 
This past week, I worked close to 40 hours in the kitchen, filling in for one of the cooks who was out.  
​
During my time preparing meals, St. Martha and our Blessed Mother are always my special friends and intercessors.  I’m so grateful for their help which enabled me to make meals that people mostly enjoyed rather than starting a fire or putting cumin in my bread pudding again instead of cinnamon (that’s another story - you can ask me some time.).
 
This week, I made turkey rice bake; chili with twice baked potato casserole; corn and potato chowder soup served with calzones,  sloppy joes, green bean casserole, and cole slaw; sauerkraut, sausage, boiled potatoes and dumplings, and warmed up leftovers a couple of times.  We had several visitors, so it was a little bit of a challenge guessing how much food to make.  I was grateful this morning for the chance to sleep in a little and enjoy a slower-paced day.  
 
This evening, I went with Sr. Donna to see the Canadian Pacific’s “Holiday Train” as it made a stop in Hankinson with its colorful lights and musical entertainment.  We weren’t able to hear much as the streets were so crowded that there was no place to park and get out to watch.  When we got back home, I made popcorn for the young people attending Sr. Mary Ruth’s “Youth Night at the Convent.”  
 
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but one thing on my list is practicing the organ for Sunday Mass.  Since it will be Gaudete Sunday, I tried to pick hymns with joyous undertones and cam up with: “Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates” and “O Come Divine Messiah.”  
 
I hope and pray that your Advent, short as it is, is going well.  God bless you all!

This past month, I've been doing a bit of cooking here, filling in as needed.  

I've done some baking. too, and, yesterday, I served a spice cake for Sr. Mary Ruth's birthday.  

Although I enjoy cooking, I'm glad that my three day stint is almost over.  It takes some energy planning and preparing meals and doing the dishes and cleanup afterward.

This morning, as I was preparing a family favorite for our entree, Sr. Mary Ruth passed through the kitchen, making a comment about a “cooking pumpkin.”  
 
She saw that I was wearing my jack-o-lantern costume which I’d made with my mom in grade school.
 
She teased that she didn’t smell roasted pumpkin.  I responded that I was a roasting pumpkin, as I was now very warm with my sweater, costume, and apron over my jumper.  Need I mention that I was working with the stove and oven?
 
Later, a nurse from our infirmary stopped through as well.  I decided to show her my costume, as I thought we had talked about it recently.  I took off my apron and she took my picture.
 
This afternoon, having finished cleaning up and doing dishes, I took a look at the photos she had sent me.  I noticed that my costume looked wrinkled.  I hadn’t taken the time to iron it this year, and thought it would be good enough.  
 
Before heading over to St. Gerard’s (our nursing home across the street) to help with trick-or-treaters this evening, I may try and see if I can’t get it pressed.
 
Before that, though, I should get my numbers changed…
 
I am leading Office this week, and thought I was being really on top of things by putting the new numbers up before morning Mass.  I thought I was ahead of the game!
 
However, this afternoon, when I had time to breathe and think, I realized that tonight we begin the celebration of All Saints with Evening Prayer I.
 
The numbers I posted are wrong and will have to be changed!
 
So much for working ahead and being well-prepared!

​Happy All Hallows Eve!

This afternoon, I received a phone call from someone who works here, asking if I could take care of cleanup after supper again this evening.  

I really don't mind KP duty, and told her as much.  She said I didn't have to do dishes if I didn't want to, but I figured I'd might as well. There was no sense in leaving dirty dishes sit overnight for someone else to have to deal with in the morning.  

This isn't my first time helping in this capacity since moving back to Hankinson, but I kind of enjoy running the dishwasher.  It’s kind of fun in its own way.  
 
So after supper, I put things away in the dining room and wiped off the counters before proceeding to the dish room.  

Doing dishes here brings me back to my days as a postulant, under the watchful eye and instructional supervision of Sr. Sara Marie.  She taught me pretty much everything I know about running this wonderful piece of equipment, about how to put the plates in the right way so that no space is lost, how to wipe down the counters afterwards to make sure the stainless-steel stays looking nice and untarnished, and more!  
 
I was glad for this thorough instruction again this evening, as I did the dishes by myself.  
 
All those times of doing dishes with her and the other Sisters during my “initial formation” served me well.
 
I’m not saying that I did a perfect job, though…
 
For one thing, I forgot to put the dish and spoon fsed for ice through the dishwasher!!
 
It will be seed for tomorrow.  
 
At least the sink and drain are cleaned, the counters are wiped, towels are taken to the tunnel for laundering, and the dishwasher is turned off and airing out.
 
I hope I did a satisfactory job.   

Recent circumstances in our chapel here made me think of the gospel passage of the “Greeks” who came to the apostles, wanting to see Jesus - and - of Zacchaeus climbing a sycamore tree to this end...
 
As I unpacked last week, I happily removed the pair of binoculars from a suitcase, realizing that they could come in handy for me here in my new home.  
 
In fact, they could come in handy in chapel!
 
The chapel where we pray our common prayers is very large, and I sit quite far away from the tabernacle.  Actually, the sanctuary and space in front of the high altar is large, so anywhere one sits in the pews is at a distance.
 
During the week, we have simple exposition every day, in which the tabernacle is open and Jesus is visible.  
 
However, with my limited vision and the distance, I can’t really see Him.  I can’t distinguish or make out the form inside.  (From where I sit, I had thought I was simply seeing the ciborium containing the Blessed Sacrament.)
 
Having been told that Jesus is actually visible in a special pyx (the exact term escapes me now), I had been wondering about this.  However, I couldn’t just walk up close during this time of prayer together, so my lack of clarity and curiosity remained.
 
Now, though, with my binoculars which had been given me when I was gardening in Grand Forks, I was prepared to finally see Jesus at this time of prayer.  
 
I brought them to chapel in the morning, and was able to see clearly where Jesus was visible in the tabernacle.  This was really neat!
 
I’m still faced with a dilemma, though.
 
I’d love to be able to use the binoculars to look at Him in adoration, but I don’t want to distract others or draw attention to myself.  (I don’t want to look silly, either, I must say.)  Maybe, I sound silly writing this!
 
I guess that maybe I should learn a lesson from Zacchaeus, though, who didn’t let any pride stop him and found salvation for his house that day.
 
What a gift we have as Catholics, especially in places where there is frequent or perpetual Eucharistic adoration.  We can see, can have an audience with our King, without any special appointment.  Even if we can’t see Him, we can still visit and spend time with Him!  
 
What a gift!

Yesterday was a good day…
 
As the first Sunday of the month, it was “Recollection Day” here at the convent.  This means that we keep silence until suppertime.  
 
It’s a chance to prayerfully think over the past month and look ahead to the new month just beginning.  
 
It’s a good day to spend some extra time in the chapel, reflecting with the Lord on the direction we’re going and listening for His voice.  This month, I found it to be a day of really seeking His help and action in my life.
 
After supper, we played a couple of games of Farkle.
 
After this, I went upstairs and started thinking about our women’s retreat coming up next month, calling one of our team members and visiting about details.
 
In the meantime, I got a message from an online acquaintance who is trying to help me learn to play the feet pedals on the organ.  She asked if she could “call me.”  
 
So, a little background is needed…
 
I am in a group on social media for Catholic organists, and had posted a question about a week ago, looking for pointers or anything that I might need to know to fulfill my dream of learning to play the foot pedals on the church organ.  This woman had reached out, all the way from Australia, offering to help me.  
 
She’s given me pointers and even sent some music!  
 
I am touched by the kindness of a stranger on the other side of the world!  
 
Anyway, I since I wasn’t able to take her call at the time, and asked if I could reach out later, and she agreed.
 
By the time I was free, it was kind of late, after 9 p.m., so I took a walk away from the bedroom I’m staying in here (We try to keep silence in the area by that hour).  I went outside and walked around the grounds while she tried to coach me on organ pedal technique for beginners.  
 
It was quite the experience to be getting guidance from someone so far away, even getting video ‘footage’ of the technique!
 
This evening, it occurred to me that this kind woman was really providing help down under!  

Pun intended!

Image cropped from 
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a9/Latina_Sacratissimo_Nome_di_Ges%C3%B9_consolle_organo_Migliorini.jpg

I know that one of the hymns for Pentecost uses the noun finger, but my adventures surrounding this word today have had nothing to do with that.
 
As I left chapel and made my way to the front desk for my shift, one of my morning duties was turning on the music in the lobby, where I also opened the shades and windows, to let in sunshine and fresh air. 
 
One of the windows, however, did not stay open; instead it fell shut, with great force, on my right index finger.  Ouch!
 
I danced around a bit, and went on with my morning, practicing some for the vocal music I would need to help lead at Mass. 
 
Sr. Elaine and I had decided to play together for today’s great feast, and had even practiced last evening.  We have two keyboards in our chapel, and years ago, we used to do this for great feasts.  It was nice to revive that custom.
 
When I got back to chapel, though, right before Mass, the finger injury represented itself as a hindrance.  Successfully striking a match is not so easy with an injured finger.  I soon learned that playing organ/keyboard is also a bit more challenging under such circumstances. 
 
I made it through pretty well, though, using other fingers in the injured finger’s stead and occasionally even using the poor index finger. 
 
The music went alright, except for the fact that by the time I was finished singing the sequence, I didn’t have much air left and had to read rather than sing the gospel verse. 
 
At the end of Mass, after the closing song, a few of us chanted the Veni Creator Spritus, which we’ve been planning and practicing for a number of weeks. 
 
As this day and week goes on, I need to continue my prayers for the Holy Spirit’s guidance in my life as well as in my workplace and world. 
 
I’d better stop typing now, though, because my finger is starting to throb. 
 
Happy Pentecost!

This has been an unusual week, with much for which to be grateful.  However, my gratitude list, in itself, might strike some as unusual.
 
Last Thursday, I was privileged to join two others of our Sisters on a trip to Mundelein, IL for the Institute on Religious Life’s annual meeting, a weekend of sessions to be enriched in our faith and vocation while meeting other religious from around the country.  It truly was a time away for which I was grateful.  The last time I had attended these sessions was as a postulant back in 2005, the weekend that Pope St. John Paul II died!
 
It was a lovely time, except for the fact that somewhere, along the journey, I managed to contract Strep throat.  I got suddenly sick on Sunday.
 
I was kind of in denial about the whole situation until last night.  My lack of energy was Improving and I thought I’d be on the mend, but, then, I woke up with terrible pain in my throat that told me that all was not well.  
 
“Maybe, I do have Strep,” I acknowledged.  
 
Early afternoon, I got into urgent care, and didn’t have to wait long.  After examining my throat, the doctor remarked something to the effect of: “I can run a culture if you want, but I’m quite sure it’s Strep.”  I needed no reassurance, and gratefully accepted a prescription for antibiotics.  
 
I was so grateful for a painless visit, quick attention, and for not even needed to get gagged!  
 
During these days since I’ve been back, I’ve had another cause of gratitude: In our convent here, my room is just down the hall from our chapel, where Jesus stays in our little tabernacle.  I find immense joy and consolation in the knowledge that He is so close.  
 
Even when I’m resting in bed, it is so consoling to remember His nearness, physically.  I am grateful.  
 
Having been away, and not in as close of proximity to Our Lord’s Eucharistic presence, tends to renew and increase my gratitude for this immense gift.  
 
I know that I daily receive countless blessings of which I am not even aware.  
 
I need to continue to remember to say “thank you” to Our Lord for His goodness to me.  

Saturday evening was a bit tough for me. 
 
I was pretty tired, after helping prepare and assist with the Holy Week liturgies, decorating chapel for Easter, dyeing eggs with our residents, and working my job at the reception desk.  (I’m not complaining, just stating facts.)
 
There was, however, to be no “early to bed” on this Night of nights. 
The Easter Vigil at the local parish church was to start at 8:30 p.m., and I was to do a reading. 
 
It was nice to only have one little responsibility after days of coordinating so many little details for liturgies at St. Anne’s.  Due to the late hour, we do not have a vigil here, where many of our residents retire early.
 
I walked the ten blocks to the church, navigating massive quantities of water from melting snow. 
 
Once the Mass started, I found myself struggling to stay attentive through the beautiful liturgy, though I was grateful to be there.  (I hadn’t had time to use the ladies’ room in advance, which did not help my efforts to keep focused.)
 
When the final ‘alleluias’ had been sung, we departed; night had fallen and so I rode back with my fellow Sister.
 
We got back to St. Anne’s and I finished preparing the chapel, placing the white cloth on the altar and adorning it with gold trim. 
 
I got into bed around midnight, thankful for being that far.
 
Easter Sunday ended up fairly busy as well, with various responsibilities. 
This morning, it was with continued satisfaction and joy that I returned our “Holy Week suitcase” to the sacristy cabinet, with cross veils, clapper, instruction sheets, and cross for veneration back inside again. 
 
As I had prayed, at the onset of Holy Week, for an open heart to enter into the mysteries at hand, I am now praying the same for this Easter season, which can also be difficult to enter into, since our minds which cannot grasp the wonder of it.

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

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

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

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

I guess I'm always game for an adventure! 

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

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

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

I really felt blessed!

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm sorry it's been a few weeks since I wrote last.  Between writer's block and other complications, I haven't gotten back here for a while. 

Truth be told, it's been kind of busy...between planting our gardens, helping with the rummage sale, and spending some days helping with projects at our provincial house in Hankinson.

While I was down there, I was grateful to have evening walks with one of my fellow Sisters just about every night.  It was so nice! 

One morning at breakfast, though, we were informed that there seemed to be a mountain lion in the vicinity.  People had heard it screaming.  A day or two later, the report was confirmed. 

We weren't too worried, and continued our evening walks, though avoiding the pasture area where we thought the feline would be more likely to roam. 

We had been advised that, if we saw it, we should raise up our arms so as to appear bigger, and slowly back away from it.  I also heard that mountain lions aren't prone to attack people.

The whole thing reminded me of the scene in the original Parent Trap, where the twins trick their dad's fiancee into making a fool of herself by knocking sticks together as she walked.

It became a little joke throughout my days there, as we reminded each other about danger of the potential intruder.

As we began this Lenten journey, I found myself struggling with what to do for Lent, being quite overwhelmed with the unstable staffing situation at work.  I found myself trying to do some little penances each day, but not committing to anything big. 
 
As we neared the fifth Sunday of Lent, I was planning to put the purple cover over our large crucifix in chapel.  I had never done this before, as our maintenance men always took care of it.  This year, however, I was going to give it a try and see if I couldn’t handle it myself.  It would be an interesting challenge, I thought.
 
However, Thursday morning, things really changed!  My best laid plans were put to rest...
 
I have chronic sinus problems, so Wednesday night, before bed, I took a new medication which is supposed to help with congestion.  I woke up with a sore throat, presumably from my sinuses draining into the back of my throat all night. 
 
Things only got worse, and by Saturday morning, I was miserable.  It hurt terribly to swallow.  I found it hard to get any fluids down, which only escalated my condition. 
 
As unpleasant as this situation has been, it has also been an eye opener for me, spiritually.  It has been a poignant invitation for me to unite my sufferings (which seemed terrible to me) with those of Jesus.  My pain forced me to realize, a bit more, what His pain and suffering must have been. 
 
I certainly didn’t pick this “Lenten penance,” but it has been a good one.  Your prayers that its duration may be shortened would be appreciated.  

I went about my daily routine this morning, aware of the fact that it was, indeed, a somewhat significant date.  The Shakespearean admonition, “Beware of the ides of March,” didn’t have much significance at first, but, as the day went on, it was all too relevant.
 
After Mass, as I had just extinguished the candles and was putting things away, one of the candles near the altar flew off its holder and onto the floor, spilling hot wax everywhere in its wake (on the floor, wooden stand, and altar cloth)!
 
I spent the little time allowed to me before 10 a.m. Bible study trying to get the wax off the various surfaces. 
 
There’s good reason I’m not terribly fond of candles!
 
The day continued fairly smoothly for me until one of our Sisters didn’t come and didn’t come for lunch and for a commitment we had. 
 
I walked down to her office to check on what the holdup might be.  She was on the phone with someone who was supposed to be helping her with a problem on her computer. 
 
It turned out that it was all a scam, and I spent most of the afternoon trying to secure her computer. 
 
I felt like I was going in circles!
 
As I write this, the computer is still (after a couple of hours) reverting to “factory settings.”  In the meantime, I had to change email passwords and take other precautions in case the hackers had tried to access important information. 
 
I’m not superstitious, and I mean this in complete jest, but the phrase “beware of the ides of March” will have much greater meaning for me in the future.

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. 

Today, at the dinner table, one of our Sisters shared an experience she had had while filling in at the reception desk last evening. 
 
One of our residents came up, and wanted help taking off her sweater.  At first, Sister and she were going to go in our little library, but there was an outside window there and people would be able to view the private undertaking.
 
Instead, they used a storage room next store. 
 
It was quite the struggle, and Sister got a bit impatient.  The woman had some physical difficulties that made the process quite trying. 
 
Catching herself, Sister gave herself a little pep-talk: “What have you been reading about [in spiritual books] and talking about in your sermons to the residents on Sundays [at the ecumenical church services]?...You’re supposed to serve Christ in these people!”
 
A little while later, the woman was back again.  She wanted help putting on another clothing item. 
 
Laughingly, Sister recalled how she had quickly been given a chance to make amends for her previous impatience. 
 
She hadn’t needed to look for an opportunity because it fell into her lap!

I apologize that it’s been a little while since I posted here.  I’ve been down at our provincial house in Hankinson working on projects for the retreat center, and I didn’t have the password to the site.  If you’d like to check out the new website for the retreat center, just head over to sfcretreats.org.  New brochures will be available in the near  future as well. 
 
This was a very nice opportunity to get away and see our Sisters there, but it was also a bit sad. 
 
While I was there, Sister Edwardine Gerou died from cancer.  I was so grateful to have had the chance to see her these days. 
 
I just returned to Grand Forks less than an hour ago, and am now working a short shift at the reception desk. 
 
Your prayers for Sr. Edwardine and our community would be greatly appreciated.