by GA

Within my first year of leaving the convent, a well-intended person asked me, “What are the things you are grateful for from your time in religious life?” I chuckled, surprised at the question because it was one of those for which I had an answer before even having a question. “Nothing,” I said, fully convinced of my response. There was a part of me that genuinely could not find anything to be grateful for, and there was another part of me that knew that I was wrong. There is always something to be grateful for, especially because it all comes from God. 

As time has passed, my mind has often found its way back to the memory of that question: “What are you grateful for, girl? There has to be something.” Every now and then I have been able to identify a thing or two to be grateful for, even if only for the time and love I received from sisters who have avoided contact with me since I left. I am grateful for them and their listening ears, despite the unexpected expiration date. I am grateful for the little space I was allowed to occupy while trying to flourish in my malnourished vocation. I am grateful for… 

Unfortunately, almost anything I can be grateful for appears to be tied to a “but” statement that somehow diminishes, in my opinion, the fullness of gratitude. I can be grateful for the many novel experiences that I had with them, but these experiences also remind me of how much I was not a fit for the community. 

There is, however, one experience that is not connected to a “but” statement: the privilege of being in such close contact with Jesus in the Eucharist. In addition to living only 40 steps away from a quiet chapel, I had the privileged opportunity of changing the tabernacle lamp when needed. That light, a sign of the real presence of Jesus, continues to be my best response to the gratitude question.     

The candle by the tabernacle has captivated me for a long time. I once wrote a poem about it—praying that I can be light to others and that my life can be spent melting at His feet. Why is that task of changing the tabernacle lamp something I can be grateful for? Because the unfortunate circumstances inside the convent that were extinguishing the fire of my vocation only forced me to look at Him more intentionally. God in His mercy found a way of consoling my heart in the quiet, hidden task of changing the tabernacle light. God was with me. There are no “buts” to that, only “ands.” God was with me and consoled me. God was with me and gave me alone time with Him. God was with me, and that is all that matters. 

This past Easter, my sixth after the convent, I had a special encounter with the tabernacle lamp at my parish. We had joyfully celebrated with the Exultet, the readings, the Gloria, the Alleluia, baptisms and confirmations, and finally Holy Communion. The thing is that I almost failed to notice, the most quiet of signs, was the lighting of the tabernacle lamp after Holy Communion. We were still kneeling, there was meditative music, and in the middle of the busyness of the moment, the deacon proceeded to return the Eucharist to the tabernacle for the first time since it was emptied on Holy Thursday. Immediately, he lit a new light for the tabernacle. 

The scene took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. What a joy! Oh, how I missed that simple task of bringing new light to the tabernacle! How I had loved that hidden and quiet task! How privileged was I in religious life for the times that I got to change the sanctuary lamp! 

Dear friend, I can now answer that question. I am grateful for God’s love for us in the Eucharist, and I pray that you can also find a light of gratitude in your journey after the convent.