Memory

By Sr. Mallorie Gerwitz

Novice, Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth 

For the last six months I have been concerned for the welfare of a child who comes into our Sister of Charity sponsored ministry, Welcome Central.  Welcome Central defines itself as, “helping you find, the help you need.”  Our ministry connects people with food, utility assistance, housing, medical referrals, clothing, essentially a clearinghouse for individuals to receive what they are most in need of.

My heartstrings have been pulled quite tightly in trying to serve the needs of the mother, while also trying to protect the child who has been living on the streets with mom.  The little boy and I build houses with Lincoln logs, or play with making towers out of Jenga pieces, or we will go on walks, while mom works on paperwork or just takes a needed break.  The boy calls me Memory, (as it is hard to say L’s at the age of 4), which makes me think, how coincidental, that is!   A memory is something that each of us has tucked away in our brains, hearts, and our inner most being.  The fact is my presence to him is a blip on the radar of his life.  It’s sad, but real.  I will be a ‘Memory’ very soon.  It leaves me with the feeling of the way God gave his only son, Jesus to us.  Jesus was, what some may call, a blip on the radar, only living until, the generally accepted age of thirty-three; but I look at the ‘Memory’ he left us.  The love he showered upon us.  The presence that Jesus gave to the people of his time and the presence that continues today.   

As we draw closer to Christmas and the festivities of holiday parties, shopping, and decorating, these activities tend to distract us from the present moment.  I think: In what ways are we present to the living God? And in what ways are we present, to the coming of God’s greatest gift of love?  

As we take this time to remember, reflect, and look upon the ‘Memory’ of the coming of God’s greatest gift, may we go forth with our light, which shines in the darkness, in this waiting period, for all to see.  The realization I am coming to is to not spend too much time living in the future, but to live now, in the present.  Our lives are blips on the radar, of the lifespan of the Universe.  In what ways are we living ‘Memories’ for those we meet everyday?  How will the legacy of our lives, reflect the Memory of Jesus, God’s greatest gift?

"MOMMY'S HERE!"

By Sr. Amanda Kern, DC

From my office desk, at any given time between 3:30 to 6pm, I can hear it shouted from the next room, sometimes even from the hallway. It’s an almost daily occurrence with my office sharing a wall with the young preschool classroom. You can hear the joy and even the thinking behind the child’s voice – Mommy’s here, Love is here, everything will be okay because she’s here now.

My ministry is to work with those “mommies” (and “daddies” too!). I work at DePaul Children’s Center (part of Daughters of Charity Services of San Antonio) as the Family Care Coordinator, a ministry created when employees here saw there was a need for a special caseworker for our parents, who are majority low-income. In my year here, I have quickly learned the high cost of diapers, the technicalities of sliding-scale tuition requirements, and how to file for child support.

The truth is, while the child can joyfully shout out “MOMMY’S HERE!” when they see her walk through the classroom or appear on the playground, most of these parents can’t do the same. They can’t reach for their own mother for support when they’re stressed, when they’re about to break down, when life seems to be falling apart. Some have no support system whatsoever for one reason or another. Some were disowned from their family because of the father of the child; some just don’t have family in the area; others haven’t shared with me why.

I live and work in San Antonio. If you know anything about San Antonio, you know that San Antonio is not quite all-Texan, but not quite all-Mexican either. It’s this great blended mix of both – a city that names its celebration of the Battle of the Alamo “Fiesta”, a city that hosts the famous San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo but also is known for its amazing breakfast tacos, etc.

Of course, with all of that, comes Our Lady of Guadalupe. And hey, San Antonio – let’s admit, Catholic or not, pretty much everyone has a framed picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  What’s important to remember is that Our Lady of Guadalupe is more than just culture; it’s more than just some apparition in Mexico. The story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of hope.  Our Lady more than just appeared to Juan Diego. She spoke to him, just as a mother would speak to a child. Just as the mothers I serve here speak to their children, just as I wish some of their mothers still spoke to them. One of the many things Our Lady said was: 

“Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear sickness nor any other anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything” – Our Lady to Juan Diego, December 9, 1531

“Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m your mom, remember?”

It was a message for Juan Diego, an indigenous peasant in the 1500s. It’s a message for any person on-the-fringes, ignored or rejected by society. It’s a message for someone who lives one day at a time, not knowing what the future may bring.  But it’s also a message for all of us, no matter who we are – low-income or wealthy, childless or parent, sinner or saint. And isn’t it all we want to hear? 

“Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m your mom, remember?” 

We all want that familial love. Some of us were fortunate enough to receive it from our parents, others not. We want to know we’re incredibly loved, despite whether we feel we are worthy. We want to know that someone’s with us, no matter what. So, Our Lady gives us herself as a Mother from heaven in addition to the Father we already have.  

“Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m your mom, remember?” 

If we let that message truly sink in, if we have the courage to believe it, we will echo that child’s shout of joy – “MOMMY’S HERE!”- when we see her face in various images and we will long for the day when we can embrace her as the children here at DePaul Children’s cling tightly to their mommies at the end of the day.

Advent(urous) Companions

By Sr. Andrea Koverman, SC

Two unlikely companions adorn the top of my dresser: a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and a little carved marble donkey. Strange as it may seem, they stand together offering me the gift of a shared wisdom.

The mother of one of my best friends gave the statue of Mary to me. It had belonged to her husband’s mother, and was a very special gift at a time when I was doing some serious early discerning about religious life, and sorely missing my own mother, who had died of cancer not long before. By that time, I felt a particular closeness to Mary, though during my early childhood, her total obedience and docility were a bit off-putting. I found it difficult to relate to her because she was so perfect, and I was…well, not. I did my best to imitate her virtues and a simple devotion to her developed from the sense of motherly patience and encouragement that consoled me when I prayed to her for her intercession.

I gradually began to realize that there was much more to this woman than the fairy-tale version I knew as a small child, especially as I began to more seriously consider that I might have a religious vocation. The parallels between Mary’s fiat and discerning a call to religious life become very clear and so helpful in the process that I don’t know a single woman religious that doesn’t recognize the connection between her own “yes” and that of Mary’s. I turned to her time and again and was strengthened by the example of her resolve to set aside whatever fears and doubts she must have had, and her willingness to let go of her future hopes and plans so that she could be God’s handmaid and do God’s bidding. I could imagine her own bewilderment in the change of events in her life that transformed her from a young peasant girl into the mother of God, and how it must have required so much more than a robotic auto-response from someone who had been born in such a state of total perfection that there was no question of what her response would be. I could relate to that real kind of struggle.

The carved donkey came as part of a vow gift from my spiritual director, Sr. Anne Flannagan, SNDdN. I have to admit, I was both baffled and amused when I opened my package and found the statue and a little DeGrazia painting of a girl riding a donkey. I was intrigued, but wondered, “What’s with the donkey theme?”  The mystery was finally solved one evening a few weeks later as I came upon one of my journal entries, made during the retreat I took just prior to making my first profession of vows last June.

I remembered that I entered that week feeling very anxious and unsure about taking vows, and really upset to be feeling that way after two challenging years of Novitiate. My journal entries and conversations with Anne were stormy and emotional. I felt a profound sense of longing and loneliness, and I feared religious life might mean feeling like that the rest of my life. I had a litany of complaints as I focused on what was not perfect at that point in my experience, as if I were building a case against making a commitment. I was feeling weighed down by my own pressure to be perfect, to have all the answers, to get it all right, wondering once again if I was making the right decision. To clear my mind and center myself, I spent long days out on the beautiful grounds of the retreat center, soaking up warm sunshine, walking and running the trails through the woods, and sleeping twice the normal number of hours I usually do. I worked on letting go of the need to be sure and to accept a state of uncertainty, praying for the grace to trust that God was with me in all my messiness. As I stopped trying to force a decision, I began to feel reconnected and the joy of being intimately in love with God overtook my anxiety. I reconsidered my options and confirmed that I could not rule this one out, at least not yet. It was still the right choice for right then, and that’s all I needed to know. The future would hold whatever God wanted, and I relinquished control of it once again. I felt peaceful, ready, and incredibly eager to publicly profess my vows. What a rollercoaster ride of a week!

On the last night of the retreat, an optional prayer session using poetry was offered. One of the activities was to choose from an array of pictures clipped from magazines, reflect on what it was about the picture that attracted you, and then write about it. The picture I chose was of a docile little burro, typical of what you might see used for transporting goods in Peru or some other such place. I was attracted to its solid stance, lowered eyes, and attentive ears. That night, I dreamt about a wild little donkey that bucked and kicked and strained against the rope it had been lassoed with. I entered the scene and understanding its fears, was able to calm the donkey down in a way reminiscent of the horse trainer’s ability to silently communicate with a disturbed horse in the movie The Horse Whisperer. Rather than trying to tame it by force, I was very gentle with it. With patience and encouragement, it began to relax and its panicked panting slowed to even breathing. The donkey’s ears pricked forward in curiosity as I moved about. I walked over to a pile of bundles and packages and it followed and allowed me to load them on its back. Then it lowered its furry head so that I could put a bridle and reigns in place. There it stood solidly, a study in tranquility, able to bear the load it was given, listening attentively, and not roaming about but willing to wait to be led to where it would go.

I shared my dream with Anne in our closing conference and was delighted by how neatly and precisely it captured my journey through Novitiate. I keep the statue of Mary and the donkey where I can see them everyday. They remind me always and in a special way during Advent, that I too am called and capable of transformation. When doubts and fears arise, as they certainly will from time to time, when my spirit bucks and resists and it seems safer to run for the hills, they remind me that I want to be God’s handmaid, too, and I must be patient, attentive, and willing not to lead, but to be led. It is the disposition that transformed a peasant into a queen, and a wild animal into one trustworthy enough to carry her.

Take Mary on your Journey

By Melissa Catherine Fisackerly

On December 8^th the Church celebrates the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary.  The Catholic Church teaches us that from the moment of Mary’s conception, the Blessed Virgin Mary was free from original sin.  What this means is that Mary was in a state of grace from the beginning, sharing in God’s own life and free from inclinations of sin.  In other words, God preserved Mary.   We too are preserved by God, but maybe not quite like the Virgin Mary.  

The Immaculate Conception allowed Mary’s yes at the Annunciation to be limitless, without any restriction in thought.  This particular reading of the Gospel of Luke is one of my favorites.  I can relate closely to Mary’s emotions, doubts, questions, and thoughts throughout the reading.  As I recall being in my former religious community’s novitiate, this gospel reading became a part of my daily living.  Daily, I prayed specifically with Mary, that she would teach me how to prayerfully ponder her fears, thoughts, questions and doubts, and how she was able to have the faith that she had when she was completely confused at certain times.  

I’m sure Mary often said, “How can this be?” (verse 34).  I often ask God how can this be?  Why me?  Once I take a step back and ponder Mary’s yes, then I can respond accordingly.  I think too, in the readings of Mary, her words are so gentle and worded in such a way that keeps me in awe.  I feel like I pray better when I ponder with Mary instead of taking my focus off of what’s really important.  

She challenges me greatly!  There are times when I, like Mary, am greatly troubled at my journey.  I try to “ponder what sort of greeting this might be” when I come across hurdles (verse 29).  Mary had every right to question God because she was told and not asked for this great task.  Mary did not plan at age 15 to conceive a child and call him Jesus (verse 31).  I’m sure she wanted to live a “normal” life.   

When I prayerfully take apart my journey, whether it is a struggle or not, it is a greeting to something new in the walk with God.  If I allow myself to share in Mary’s fear and allow God to take over, there is no room for fear.  The angel said to Mary, “Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God” (verse 30).   

As we allow time to seek favor with God, then we will be able to walk our journey with Mary’s YES.  My prayer is that we, as young women, take time to ponder our journey and question God, but not testing God with our questions; asking God how can we best put on the armor of God and ponder the journey that has been gifted to each one of us.  I hope this feast day of the Immaculate Conception of Mary is one of wonder and awe.

Sharing Jesus with Joy

By Sr. Meg Kymes

As part of my Advent prayer, I have been reading a book called Chicken Soup for the Soul: Christmas Virtues.  It is separated into several different sections and each section focuses on a particular virtue.  The first section focuses on joy. These stories about joy told tales of charity and simplicity, rather than the commercial Christmas that Black Friday tries to sell.  Stories about adult children creating a homemade Christmas without expensive gifts in JULY to cheer their ailing parents; children who didn’t have much themselves sharing the few dollars they had to contribute to their school’s  Christmas giving program; even a sports columnist starting an annual ball drive to give eventually thousands of balls to children in need of something on Christmas morning.  All of these were beautiful stories, but there was one that rose above the rest for me.

The story I read this morning was about a group of cousins on Christmas Eve that put on a Nativity play.  They created paper backgrounds and costumes from sheets and towels around the house to make a scene of a hospital.  Mary and Joseph were rejected from the inn as Scripture tells us, but instead of finding the manger they found shelter in Bethlehem Memorial Hospital.  There the nurse angels took in Mary to have her child while an anxious Joseph waited in the waiting room.  After time wore on with update of “She’s doing fine,” a tiny toddler angel came out onto the stage to bear the Good News.  After some prompting from her older cousins she proudly announces, “It’s a girl!”   I first chuckled to myself, but after more reflection I thought how true she was. 

Unlike the days when Mary and Joseph walked the long roads to Bethlehem, we await the presence of Jesus with us in our own hearts.  We look towards Christmas when we celebrate the day he came to Earth so that he later could live in our hearts.  We, like the children giving what they had to other children who had so little, and the adult child creating Christmas in July for their parents, have to share him with each other so we all can enjoy the true joy that only Jesus’ presence in our lives can bring.

Happy One Year to Us!

Happy Birthday to us!

On this day last year, we launched the Future of Charity blog.  It was the first day of the Year of Consecrated Life and the first step on a journey.  As the younger, newer members of the Charity Federation congregations, we felt called to share our lives and our reflections with each other and with you.  We didn't know how our blog would unfold, but we followed the Spirit's promptings to try it out...

One year later, we are filled with gratitude.  It has been a wonderful year!  Looking back through the many posts, we are inspired, challenged, and energized.  We are thankful to our blog contributors, to our congregations, and of course, to YOU for your support.  Please take a moment to offer us a birthday wish in the comments below!  What have you appreciated during our first year?

We look forward to the year ahead, but first, let's take a look back.  Here is the Future of Charity blog's first 365 days by the numbers...

23: Bloggers

107: Future of Charity blog posts during our first year

118: Email subscribers (sign up on the blog homepage to become one!)

270: Likes on our Future of Charity Blog Facebook page

29,745: Pageviews.  Yes, almost 30,000!!!!

and, it's all a part of the

1: Sisters of Charity Federation

Thanks for a great year!  And many moooore...

Gratitude: The Whole Picture

By Sr. Tracy Kemme

In his book, The Holy Longing, Fr. Ronald Rohleiser writes, “Karl Rahner once said that in the torment of the insufficiency of everything attainable we eventually realize that, here in this life, all symphonies remain unfinished.  He is right.  In this world there is no such thing as a fully consummate joy.”

As I grow older, gratitude becomes more about seeing the grace in all parts of this “unfinished symphony” of life and learning to say “thank you” no matter what.

I can often do that in retrospect.

In spiritual direction last week, I reflected on a tough conversation I had recently with a dear friend.  It was a rocky year in our relationship that caused hurt to both of us.  Through our phone call, we were able to sort things out.  I shared with my spiritual director that I am, of course, grateful for the forgiveness and reconciliation we experienced.  But I realized as I talked that I am strangely grateful for the difficult moments, because they led us to go deeper, be more honest, and choose friendship again with a renewed commitment.

It didn’t feel great while it was happening, but as I stepped back and looked at the whole picture, I was grateful for all of it.

I also found myself thinking about the last boyfriend I had before entering religious life.  It was painful to let such a beautiful romantic relationship go, and sometimes, the pain still surfaces.  But I am finally to a point where I can step back and look open-heartedly at the whole picture.  Can I imagine my life without that part of the journey?  I don’t want to.  I am thankful that I had the chance to experience such love with a truly good man.  I am thankful for the person he is and for his family, who touched my life.  I am grateful for the inner strength I discovered through the letting go.

Motherhouse chapel

I turned these reflections over in my heart during Thanksgiving Day Mass at our Motherhouse.  The priest began his homily inviting us to a broader, more profound kind of gratitude.  He offered that we all most likely know what we are thankful for, but that we could probably grow in our awareness of God’s generosity to us in all things and circumstances. I felt like he had eavesdropped on my spiritual direction session!

“I’m listening, God!” I thought.

Fr. Phil turned to Mary as an example of profound gratitude.  He had just finished proclaiming the Gospel passage of the Visitation, and he said that Mary’s joy in the Magnificat shows us true thanksgiving.  Mary’s pregnancy was not a peaceful, easy occurrence.  Her visit to Elizabeth took place in a tumultuous, uncertain time in her life.  Young and newly with child, unsure what it would mean to bear God’s son, there could have been much to fear and lament.

And yet, Mary praised God with her whole being for the wonders God has done.

I left Mass filled with quiet joy but also urged by the challenge I heard.  Mary’s example reminds us to step back and see the whole picture every day.  She did not look back and see the whole picture. She looked her current situation straight in the face and rejoiced.  In the mysterious human heart, we rarely have one isolated emotion.  Life is so often a mixed bag, swirling joy with pain, hope with fear, or sadness with thanksgiving.  When I focus in on one part of the story I am living, I might only see the struggle.  If I look on my life with the eyes of Eternal Love, I might find myself saying “thank you” when I least expect it.  The pain will not vanish, but gratitude may put it in perspective.

I pray to grow in the spiritual practice of gratitude.  Can I choose to look at the daily unfinished symphony of life with a heart of gratitude as Mary did?  Can I look at the whole picture now, no matter what, and rejoice?

The Almighty has done, and is doing, great things for us.