Sep 21, 2014 |
By Anela, reproduced with kind permission from her blog http://anelafindshervoice.wordpress.com
Sometimes it’s funny, being known around the office as “the ex-nun.” My coworkers and I will be having a conversation, specifically about work or about life in general, and one of them will let fly something a little off-color. They’ll stumble to a halt in mid-sentence, or a sentence (or an hour) or two later, when they realize just what they’ve said in the presence of “the ex-nun.” Then they’ll apologize: sheepishly, sincerely or even offhandedly. I take no offense at their slips, although I have felt a bit uncomfortable on several occasions. When that happens, I usually end up offering up a silent prayer of apology to Our Lord on their behalf.
It’s a strange thing, but I’m grateful for the awkwardness these moments bring, because the culture we live in today has become so desensitized to issues of modesty and morality. We live in a culture whose mantra is “Sex, power and no responsibility.” We’re bombarded with images and messages that harm us physically, emotionally and spiritually every single day… and the majority of people buy into the message simply because society tells them they should.
Maybe when the people around me pause in that moment of awkwardness, they’ll take a moment to reevaluate the lies that society has told them are true. Maybe they’ll come to realize that they’re truly worth so much more than society leads them to think they are.
And maybe, just maybe, this “ex-nun” will be reminded that, just because I no longer wear the habit, live in community or keep the daily horarium (Latin for “the hours” – a schedule of work and prayer), doesn’t mean that I’m not still a beloved spouse of Christ or that I don’t need to remember that I am called to “live in the world” but not be “of the world.”
We all are.
But I still miss wearing the habit. Imagine the self-censoring that would go on in the office if I suddenly showed up in one?

Sep 14, 2014 |

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.
By Seraphina.
I had a long road leading into the monastery. I believed that God had clearly called me to be His bride and so for several years I prayed and begged that it would be possible for me to enter religious life. The obstacle, however, seemed insurmountable: I had nearly six figures of student loan debt, and I would have to bring that down to zero before I could enter. During those difficult years of working two jobs, praying, and fundraising, I recited to myself the words of 1 Thess 5:24: “He who calls you is faithful, and He will do it.” I tried, amidst mounting discouragement, to abandon myself completely to His providence.
Even while working, my income still barely covered my minimum monthly payments. If God really wanted me in the monastery then I needed a miracle. In October I decided to pray the 54 day Rosary novena with the specific intention that I would be able to enter the monastery in June. It seemed like a long shot, but I took heart in simple confidence of the novena prayer, which confidently gives thanks for the grace asked for before it has been received:
From thy bounty thou hast given me the favor
I so earnestly and trustingly sought. I despaired not of what
I asked of thee, and thou hast truly shown thyself my Mother.
This was the hope that I clung to and I made sure to remind Our Lady of it repeatedly. Still, as the months wore on my entrance date seemed increasingly unrealistic. Through the incredible generosity of friends and family I was able to fundraise about 16% of the total that I needed, but at this rate, it would be ten years before I could enter! Still, I tried to hope, truly believing that God would provide for those called according to His purpose.
In May of that year I had one final fundraising event planned: a concert at my parish. It was a simple affair and I looked at it more as an opportunity to offer my violin talent to the parish than as a fundraiser. I entrusted the concert to the Blessed Mother. The concert went well, and afterwards I went to the parish hall for the reception. I was thinking of leaving when suddenly an elderly gentleman approached me and began speaking with me. At length, he put his face near mine and said, “Whisper in my ear the amount of debt that you have.” I told him. He said, “I may be able to help. Write to me. You’ll find my address on the $100 check that I put in the collection basket.”
I wrote to this man and then I prayed another 9 day Rosary novena to back it up. I wasn’t sure if I could believe that this man whom I had just met would be willing to make such an extraordinary gift. I prayed and waited, hoping that this was the miracle that I had been praying for!
It was May, the month of Our Lady, and still Easter; while I was walking home one day I was concluding the ninth Rosary of the novena and the bells were ringing at the church for the Regina Caeli. Just then, my phone rang. It was this gentleman, and he was calling to tell me that he had just spoken with his stockbroker in order to transfer the funds necessary to completely pay off my debt.
“He who calls you is faithful, and He will do it.”
I was then able to enter the monastery within two months. The Lord had truly provided for me, just as He had promised, and I rejoiced! I was absolutely overjoyed to be able to enter the monastery after so many tenuous years of waiting. At last! Although nervous, of course, I was so excited to completely commit my life to the Lord and be His forever.
Within minutes of entering the enclosed monastery, however, I began to be plagued by doubts. The Lord, Who had always seemed so near to me, now seemed elusive. I struggled in the small community and I was afflicted by a loneliness that still grieves me to recall. I prayed, I offered sacrifices, and I begged for the strength to live this life, but I felt completely abandoned and alone. I was confused. Surely this must
be my fault! Surely God had not worked such a dramatic miracle in my life if I was not actually called to this community! What was I doing wrong? Was I being punished for all of my sins? And what would happen if I left? Wouldn’t it seem like a devious scheme that I had worked just to get my loans paid off and then return to the world? These questions circled in my mind constantly and, not wanting to be unfaithful, I remained in the monastery. I would suffer, I decided, if that was what He wanted. I tried to reflect on the Passion. But who was this God here in the monastery? He did not seem like the same God whom I had loved so ardently before… I had never before felt so abandoned by God, so punished, so… rejected.
The community that I joined lived a very radical vow of poverty. Our personal items were very limited and I was taught not to ask for anything that was not absolutely essential. I had very long hair, because I was saving it for the dramatic ceremony of the investiture where my hair would be cut and replaced by a veil. Until then I had to keep it constrained behind a short postulant veil. I thought that I had brought enough hair ties with me, but midway through the year all but one of them had broken and the one that remained was definitely nearing its end. I know that this sounds trivial but I had some real struggles because of that one hair tie. My hair kept coming loose in awkward moments, it wasn’t secure enough for all of the manual labor that we had to do, and on top of it all, I was afraid to ask my superior for another one. I didn’t have that much longer until my investiture and I really did not want the portress to have to beg one of our benefactors for something as seemingly vain as a hair tie. I did not ask, and every day I rather desperately hoped that my one hair tie would survive.
My interior struggles with the community continued to worsen and I did not have anyone with whom to consult. I was the only one in the novitiate, the community was enclosed, and Mother was already bending the rules in order to allow me to talk privately with a priest about my difficulties. I did not know what I was going to do and it was all I could do to persevere in the daily tasks while trying to appear calm.
One day we received an unexpected package from a lovely woman whom I had met in passing just before I entered. It was a very large box containing all sorts of delights: nuts, washcloths, envelopes, and other essentials. I was really not expecting to hear from this woman and I was deeply moved that she had remembered me and had been so thoughtful. She even mentioned in her card that she had prayed while she was shopping so that she would know exactly what to buy for us.
We had a very fun recreation that evening where Mother allowed me to unpack the box and show everyone what my friend had sent us. Beneath the brownie mix, the seeds, and the gloves, I found… a package of hair ties. They were the exact type that I had always bought, and there were SO MANY of them! My friend knew that the Sisters kept their hair very short, and still she had been moved to buy hair ties for us. You might consider this a coincidence, but in that moment, when I had struggled so much and felt so incredibly far from the providence of God, I knew, I knew that the Lord was truly aware of even our smallest, most trivial needs and I knew that He still loved and cared for me just as much as He always had.
I eventually left the monastery after a great deal of struggles. I learned so much while I was there and I am
very grateful to the Sisters for their goodness and patience with me. I was incredibly fearful of returning to the world, at first, and it was so disheartening to think that I may not be called to be the bride of Christ after all. It was all that I could do to entrust this transition to God and try to believe that He does indeed “lead the blind in ways unknown to them” (Is 42:16). I tried to trust again in His providence, more blindly now than ever, and believe that His ways must indeed be mysterious if He would pay off my huge debt in a miraculous way only to ask me to return to the world a year later. But Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and He guides the future as He has the past. His providence had never failed me, so I just had to abandon myself into a new, albeit unexpected, adventure. If He would provide me with something as small as a hair tie, how much more could He be trusted with all of the needs that I would encounter upon leaving the community?
It has been almost a year now since I have left the monastery and I think that my whole experience can only be summed up in one word: gratitude. I am so grateful because the Lord has provided for all of my needs every step of the way. I still don’t know really what He wants me to do five years from now, but I can try to live my life here today with great love. This is the will of God for my life – to give thanks without ceasing, and so even now I think of those hair ties with just as much gratitude as I have when I think of the insurmountable debt that the Lord Himself paid off in a heartbeat.
Deo Gratias!
Seraphina spent over a year discerning with a small enclosed community. She is currently working, spending time with her family, and praising God for His inexhaustible providence.
Sep 7, 2014 |
By Lucia.
“Fiat Mihi” -These words have always rung in my heart when thinking about religious life. Ever since I first thought about becoming a sister in fifth grade when hearing about Mother Teresa, the idea of giving everything God asked for appealed to me. When I was going through the application process with the Dominican Sisters nine years later, the vocation director wrote often to us, “Thank you for your continual ‘yes’ to God”. During the entrance weekend retreat, Mother Prioress encouraged us to give our “yes” to God, even when it was painful to leave family. On the feast of the Annunciation, our novice mistress’ feast day, one of the postulants asked what would be a wonderful thing to meditate on, and Sister told us, “Mary’s ‘yes’ to God”. Every day living the life of a sister, I woke up at 5 AM saying “yes” to the sacrifices that the day brought me in the convent. Looking back on these moments when I said “yes” over the past year and a half, while sometimes it was painful, there was joy, especially when I think of my application process. And yet, when it comes to saying “yes” to coming home from the convent, somehow it is not as easy as the other times.
God has truly blessed me with a family that has been supportive of my religious discernment. During the few days that my family visited and in their weekly letters, my mom would tell me to give my “yes” as Mary did at the foot of the cross. Little did she know that while I did love my life in the convent, there was an inner anguish I was going through as I struggled a lot interiorly while living the life of a sister. When I finally discerned that God was asking me to leave after nine beautiful months in the convent, my novice mistress talked to my parents in a parlor with a huge image of the crucifixion. That image has stuck with me during these past few months.
When you look at an image of Mary at the foot of the cross, you can so
mewhat understand what she felt at the Crucifixion. Mary, with hands touching the bloody feet of her own Son, who was being killed for our sins, did not fully understand. It must have been so utterly painful for her to look up at her Son suffering in agony, and yet not be able to do anything. And yet, she gave the same “fiat” that she did at the Annunciation, knowing it was all a part of God’s perfect plan. She never doubted, she just trusted in God. She may have seemed totally helpless, and yet her confidence in God gave her more freedom than if she struggled against Him and said no. It is by Mary’s fiat at the foot of the Cross that Jesus was able to show forth His glory, defeating sin and death on the cross.
When coming home, there are many things that one can worry about, such as finishing school, finding a job, or finding a place to live. It can be so easy to become depressed and ask, “Who am I supposed to be?” While it is so easy to get caught up in all these worries and questions, it is a perfect time that God gives to strengthen your faith and really give you freedom. Just like Mary at the foot of the cross, we may not understand, but we can have full confidence and trust that God will provide like He always has. A lot of times, the anxiety and fears that we feel during this time are the enslavements we put on ourselves, thinking that the world needs to be on our shoulders.
Entering the convent, you hope to live there forever in chastity, obedience, and of course poverty. The physical poverty that you experience gives you the freedom to rely completely on God. When coming home, I have found the poverty actually more intense. In the convent, while I was poor in the standards of the world, I at least had the security of my community, knowing where formation would take me. But now, God has taken that away from me. Now, I am even poorer than in the convent, for I do not know at this point which step God wants me to take next or even who God has created me to be in regards to my vocation. There is much uncertainty, and this can make one uneasy.
This is a great opportunity that Our Lord gives us, though, to strengthen our trust in Him. When feeling completely lost on what I am to do next, or who I am supposed to be, I have found that I am truly free when I put all my worries behind me, and just move forward with complete abandon, trusting in God. While I may feel as though I am walking in darkness, I trust that He is leading me by His Light. This is very hard to do, and yet, it brings the most freedom, taking the burdens of planning out your life off your shoulders. God creates each person for a particular purpose, and He is leading you on the path to that joy that only He can give. He is leading you through His own way to being the person He has created you to be. You only need to trust Him.
I cannot say I am perfect at abando
nment, but God is giving all of us who have left the convent or seminary an opportunity to experience true freedom, a freedom that you may not have even had while living religious life. This freedom is abandonment amidst the uncertainties, the chance to live completely trusting in God’s providence, even though you do not know your vocation at this point. During this time of uncertainty, a wonderful opportunity given by God to grow in faith and trust, just look at the cross, and place yourself at Mary’s side, praying,
“Mary, you never doubted, you just trusted, please help me to do the same.”
Lucia is a young artist passionate about anything creative. She loves to do portraits, paint with oils, and do charcoal drawings. When not working on canvas, she also expresses her creativity through cake decorating. Family, the Catholic Faith, and the Eucharist are central to her life, and she has a special devotion to Sts. Therese and Philomena.
Aug 28, 2014 |

By Cora Cantata.
If you have, in any way, ever felt rejected, dumped or abandoned by Christ, especially by being asked to walk away from religious life, either by your Superior or by God in your personal discernment, I am writing this blog for you.
He was the One whom you trusted to love you unconditionally, with whom you could be completely vulnerable without ever being told that you are not good enough, was He not? And yet, here you are, confused, alone and broken. I too, have encountered and wrestled with this emotion and brokenness since I left the convent over two years ago. However, after I humbly offered up my woundedness many times, confessing that I felt rejected and even accusing the Lord of abandoning me, He finally got through to me. As I listened, He spoke clearly to my heart a message that has given me great peace and consolation. I now feel convicted to console you and tell you that I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus (Phil 1:6).
I have always felt that my experience of living and leaving religious life was much like Peter experiencing the Transfiguration and
saying to Jesus, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents.” I will stay here, make this my home and my life, here where the presence of your Divinity is so evident and intimate. Likewise the Father responded, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” But Jesus came and touched (me), saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid,” (Matt. 17). Then I was lead down from the mountain and back into the world filled with people who have never experienced this Epiphany, and can not understand the ache of losing that vision, that glimpse into the Divine. However, Christ’s mission could not have finished had they had not left. Furthermore, Jesus did not stay on the mountain while banishing Peter, James and John, but went into the world with them to complete the good work that He began.
As it turned out the Bible verses that spoke to my heart and convicted me to enter religious life had a tendency to add insult to injury after I had left. I feel that it is easy to fall into the temptation of believing that we no longer have a calling. If God really called me to enter the convent, He has since un-called me, changed His mind and “hung up,” so to speak. There is no longer a plan for me. My plot in life is now to float out here in this abyss of unconsecrated singleness. But wait, God says, “For I, the LORD, do not change, and you, sons of Jacob, do not cease to be” (Mal 3:6); “But the plan of the LORD stands forever, the designs of his heart through all generations” (Ps 33:11). This must mean that God never changed His mind or His plan. From all eternity He knew every step we would take. Everything is Divine Providence and we have to trust that it is for our greater good because God is all Good and Holy.
Sometimes He just waits until we settle and believe that we’ve found our place and purpose to take us by the hand and say, “Talitha
koum; Little girl, I say to you, arise!” (Mark 5:41). I will allure (you) now; I will lead (you) into the wilderness (Hosea 2:16). Where is the wilderness more wild, more lonely, more bare than in the world where Christ and his followers often go either unnoticed or hated and rejected? However, Jesus encourages us, saying, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you; plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope. When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you.When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart I will let you find me (Jer 29). Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine, because you are precious in my eyes and honored, and I love you. Fear not, for I am with you. All who are called by my name I created for my glory; I formed them, made them: You are my servant whom I have chosen to know and believe in me and understand that I am he. See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Is 43).
See, I am doing something new! He is not un-calling us but calling us to something new, something greater. Religious life may be a higher calling but it is a calling that we cannot call ourselves to. We will only be fulfilled when we submit to our calling. What does it matter if your soul is like a thimble or a cup, so long as it is full? No matter what state in life, career, suffering or joy you are experiencing trust that His love, will, and heart remain the same. Every single day He is present and waiting in the Eucharist, calling, “Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come.How beautiful is your love. For you have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; you have ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes and I thirst, for you,” (ref. Songs &. John 19:28). My sisters, we experienced the Epiphany for a reason and it was meant to transfigure us. We are called to go into the world and reflect the radiance, the joy and the light of a God who’s love is Divine, unconditional and never changing.
Jul 27, 2014 |
As someone who spent less than a year in a religious community, I don’t have a very complex story to tell. But I suppose my story has in freshness what it lacks in depth. I joined the Companions of the Cross in August 2013. This is a fantastic community, one that I would whole-heartedly recommend to any man discerning the priesthood, especially if he happens to live in Canada. The Companions send their first-year applicants to Combermere, Ontario, for nine months of “in house” formation prior to entering seminary.
When I first arrived in Combermere, I was enthusiastic and optimistic about the months ahead. I would never have guessed that I would discern out of the community by Christmas. But that is exactly what happened. So the question is why. We were praying every day, receiving solid spiritual direction, and bonding as a group of men living for God. But despite this fertile soil, over the course of four months, my spiritual energy withered like grass in the Canadian winter. By the time I returned home, Jesus seemed so distant that I couldn’t even remember why I had discerned the priesthood in the first place. It was extremely disappointing, embarrassing, and frustrating to “fail” so quickly. To top it off, I was plenty angry at God.
After a couple of months of shaking my fist in Jesus’ face, I was getting absolutely nowhere. Searching for guidance, I talked to a friend of mine that has been working in ministry for close to 50 years. “How do you keep going?” I asked him. He responded that he prays the following prayer every day:
Lord, take me wherever you want me to go, and I’ll go there. And I’ll stay there until you take me somewhere else.
His prayer convicted me right then and there. It was a prayer of surrender, of total surrender to God. That was exactly what was missing from my life. I had slipped into giving God my conditional surrender. Though I might not have verbalized it, the prayer of my heart was, “God, I give you my life, so long as I can turn back at any time.”
Driving home that night, I prayed that prayer over and over. I experienced immediate relief in my spirit. As the months have passed since then, Jesus continues to heal me and invite me into even deeper relationship with Him. I realize now that total surrender – no turning back – is the key to knowing God’s peace in my heart.
As I reflect on my novitiate experience, I see that I wasn’t really surrendering completely to God. My stubbornness choked the life out of my relationship with God. When I say “No” to God, the Holy Spirit can’t breathe in me, or at least not very well. When I say “Yes” to God unconditionally, I allow the Holy Spirit to breathe the life of God in me and through me.
The great news is that God isn’t done with me or with you. “Behold, I make all things new,” He says. Is God still calling me to be a priest? I don’t know. I have absolutely no idea what direction He will take my life. And that’s ok. We don’t have to figure everything out, so long as we have totally surrendered our lives to our loving Father today, no turning back. That’s freedom in Christ. That’s the key to possessing the peace that surpasses all understanding.
Apr 13, 2014 |
Hello to you all! I am Father David Hasser, a priest of the Diocese of Lafayette-in-Indiana. I was ordained a priest in 2007 and currently serve full-time as the Director of Vocations for our diocese. In anticipation of you reading this brief post, I wish I could have heard your personal story and written this just for you! Since I haven’t figured out how to do that yet, let’s ask the Holy Spirit be our guide today and during this celebration of Holy Week!
It is Palm Sunday, and when Jesus enters Jerusalem He intimately embraces and experiences our broken, blind but beautiful selves. He draws the closest to us ever in order to love us to the consummation of His original and enduring promise.
In the fourth Eucharistic Prayer of the Roman Missal we pray:
And you so loved the world, Father most holy, that in the fullness of time you sent your Only Begotten Son to be our Savior. Made incarnate by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary, he shared our human nature in all things but sin. To the poor he proclaimed the good news of salvation, to prisoners, freedom, and to the sorrowful of heart, joy. To accomplish your plan, he gave himself up to death, and, rising from the dead, he destroyed death and restored life. And that we might live no longer for ourselves but for him who died and rose again for us, he sent the Holy Spirit from you, Father, as the first fruits for those who believe, so that, bringing to perfection his work in the world, he might sanctify creation to the full.
When all is said and done, this is the answer and invitation for which your heart searches! This was true 2000 years ago and still is today. You have been sanctified to the full! He has spoken His Word of salvation, freedom and joy to you! However, selfishly fallen angels may bother you with so much distraction and nonsense that your heart becomes restless again. You need to let yourself rest in Him, beauty ever ancient, ever new.
I don’t know how you originally discerned to enter the community which you eventually exited. I don’t know how you feel about that discernment and which direction you are now pursuing. If you are still looking for your next step, I’d encourage you to let the Holy Spirit move you rather than the expectations of the world. I wonder if you feel pressure to tie up your experience in the convent with a nice little ribbon bow and put it behind you. I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss it. Use everything you’ve experienced so far to help you follow The Lord now, because He still calls out to you. He still invites you to follow Him and to be concerned for the things of the Kingdom of Heaven, maybe in a different community, maybe with a different charism, maybe in marriage and family life or maybe in private consecration.
Take the time you need to sit at the Master’s feet and rest in Him. He still calls you to come after Him and follow Him, to see where He is staying. He still calls you to communio through His intimate covenant with you. If outwardly it does not take the form of communal consecrated life, I would encourage you to keep your heart and life open to be consecrated to Him. He embraces your brokenness, blindness and beauty, and He invites you to share in the consummation of His promise. Let His message of salvation, freedom and joy be the invitation to which you next respond!
Recent Comments