Why You're Not a Mean Old Wizard at All! God Pulls Back Curtain on Charity Sisters

You know that scene in the Wizard of Oz where Toto reveals the wizard to be a mere human?  I had one of those experiences this weekend. In my version, I was Dorothy, and God was the prodding, nagging  pup that pulls back the curtain.  This all had to do with a distaste I’ve harbored for 23 years against the handful of nuns who taught me in high school.  I DID feel my education was superior and I developed a solid ethical and spiritual foundation.  But of the several sisters at Seton LaSalle, I was not fond.  One in particular steered me away from any interest I may have had in becoming a sister at the time.  That’s because she told a classroom once that obedience in the religious life meant toting around an umbrella EVEN if there was no chance of rain--IF the superior said to do so.  There was another sister with whom I had a mixed experience.  She encouraged me greatly once by copying and distributing a poem I’d written for all of the other students in her classes.  She considered my work to be a model.  The next year, though, I felt thoroughly humiliated me when she yelled at me and my group for poorly preparing a poetry analysis.  I was the leader of the group, but with no leadership skills at the time I didn’t know how to pull the group together.  What I quickly learned is that a leader is a lightning rod for a group, and sister’s disdain was directed at me.  When this sister and I parted ways as I prepared for graduation, the rift grew as she expressed anger that I wasn’t pursuing a college degree in writing—I remember she wouldn’t even look at me, she was so upset.  I would have loved to have told her all the reasons that I thought I couldn’t and brainstormed with her, but she never asked.  I didn’t get from the sisters what I so desperately needed—compassion.  Recently, I signed up for a weekend of service with a group of sisters, and only later realized they were from the same religious order as my high school teachers.  That weekend ended today.  And it was as if God sent me directly to a place in my heart that needed healing.  I laughed and traveled and prayed and worked and experienced an abundance of compassion with the Sisters of Charity of Seton Hill.  The central point of the weekend was working with the sisters in service—taking donations and pressing clothes at a St. Vincent DePaul thrift store, spending time at a deaf services agency, and painting the home of a single woman in what was once a coal “company town.”  The sisters’ joy and kindness simply overflowed as they reached out to the poor.  But they also reached out to the poor and broken places in me.  It was particularly evident this morning when I slept in, and Sister Barbara calmed my panic by saying, “that’s ok…take your time.”  The next thing I knew, Sister Mary Lou was at my door to bring by a book and she joined me in making my bed, laughingly showing me how to make a “square corner” with the sheets and blankets as they are tucked into the mattress.  She learned this years ago as a new sister.  This morning during Mass, as I looked at some of the aged older sisters sitting in their wheelchairs with mouths seemingly stuck agape, I thought of the fearful Wizard of Oz and tears welled fell down my face as I thought, they were, and are, only humans, doing the best they could at the time.  And so am I.  

Does This Outfit Go With My Vocation?

The main reason I started this blog is because I’m on a very specific Catholic journey—the discernment of joining a women’s religious community.   Yes, becoming a nun or a sister.  And even though I’m 40 years old and it’s something I’ve considered for a long time, I’ve definitely got some things to work through.  One issue I’ll call the fashion exclusion clause.  You’ve probably noticed that many nuns wear monochromatic habits.  It has to do in part with a vow of poverty.  Then there are those who, in these post-Vatican II days, often are “cleverly disguised” (as the actress in a recent stage performance of Late Night Catechism put it) “as your aunt.”  The sisters in the “aunt” group who I know wear a lot of long polyester skirts in floral prints and pastels, and sensible shoes—something like an orthopedic tennis shoe, but often black or taupe.  The closest thing I have to a floral print is a bright white sundress with spaghetti straps and hot pink flowers.  One time when I wore it, a young woman literally squealed and said, “Do you feel like the queen of the world when you wear that?”  Well, yes.  I have coveted well-made red Italian stilettos in my time in shop windows of Paris and New York City, even if I’ve only purchased a few pairs of heels over the years.  I own a small rainbow of nail polishes. Last year I dyed my hair fuchsia.  You see my dilemma. I’m not a super serious fashionista.  I definitely have a lot of plain Jane long skirts in my closet and love my dark cozy boots in the winter.  But I sometimes wonder how I’d fit in to a community of plainclothes women.  It’s probably just one of those things I’ll have to let God work on--that same God who created all the fantastic colors that exist and who gave me the predilection for picking them off the rack.

Kate's Blog Post Kicks My Blog's Butt: Check Out Her Mother's Day Lullaby

I'm a professional writer/editor, so maybe it's no surprise that a day after I started blogging, I've already started looking with a competitive eye at other similar blogs.  Still, it's embarrassing, as a Christian, to admit the degree to which I try to best others.  Is it still envy if I write how awesome someone else's blog is? My church acquaintance, Kate, has an amazing personal story about she and her daughters that she courageously and lovingly shares here: http://sweetridgesisters.wordpress.com/2011/05/07/mothers-day-lullaby/ And yes, that is a real and almost as amazing photo of Kate's wedding party mounting a silo.

One of the Best Kept Secrets of the Catholic World? Retreat Centers!

You don't have to be a priest or nun to attend a retreat--you don't even have to be Catholic.  I'm a lay person and I've become a kind of retreat groupie in recent years.  I've taken many retreats, in Pennsylvania, upstate New York, and West Virginia, and want to urge you to give it a try.  It's an affordable and nourishing way to spend time off.

Every one of my retreats has offered mini-miracles.  One of the most recent took place at St. Emma's Benedictine Monastery in Greensburg, PA.  Before my retreat, I had been thinking a lot about career and life direction and had told friends that I might be interested in a life coach.  I encountered a woman standing by a window at the retreat center.  When we spoke, she right away told me she was a coach.  It also turned out that she lived in my neighborhood and attended my parish.  We've quickly developed a delightful friendship and recently I assisted her in offering a professional retreat at the guesthouse where we met.  I've now visited St. Emmas in fall, winter, and spring.  My favorite was probably fall, because Mother Mary Ann was so kind to let me take home to my coworkers the unsprayed apples and pears from the orchard among the Stations of the Cross on the grounds. Other retreat centers I would recommend include: the beautiful nature-surrounded Paul VI Pastoral Center in Wheeling, W.Va  (I love their tagline: Come to the Mountain...a place for ordinary people seeking simple access to God.) One of the brothers selects and performs really lovely music for the religious services.  The Abbey of the Genesee in New York state is also an amazing natural spot, located adjacent to a sunflower farm.  The psalms sung by the brothers there several times a day will resonate in your heart for a long time after leaving (their famous bread will, too).

Retreat centers vary, but you will generally be sleeping alone in a simple little room.  The experience is not exceptionally social in the typical manner of extended small talk, nor is it exceptionally luxurious.   Rules at also vary according to the particular center and program, but generally they boil down to: no mobile phones, computers, and the like.  Honoring these rules, and your deep human need to unplug, will allow you to find the deep peace and sense of connection we all deserve and seek.