Nov 27, 2015 |
By Ignatia.
For three years before entering the convent, I had worn a chapel veil at Mass. As a child, I’d been attracted to the beauty of the veils themselves, and in college I became exposed to the theological reasoning behind the practice, which cinched the deal for me. I bought my first veil (a real mantilla!) in Madrid at World Youth Day and I’d worn one ever since. I loved veiling and adhered to it religiously (pun very much intended!), and I eagerly hoped and prayed that the day would come where I would wear a veil not just in the chapel, but “full time” as a religious sister.
When I finally heard and accepted God’s concrete invitation to join a religious order, I was ecstatic. Of course, there were difficulties with the decision to enter: Shortly after requesting entrance, I was offered several full scholarships for graduate study at prestigious universities, the Order asked me to do an additional “optional” year of formation as a prepostulant at a house in a foreign country, I needed to change my lifelong vegetarian diet in order to be able to eat “from the common table.” And I was asked not to wear a chapel veil as a prepostulant. While this last difficulty was not the hardest of those decisions (after all, I had the prospect of soon becoming a fully-habited religious sister in front of me!), I will admit that I struggled with it. It was one of the first tests of obedience that the Lord asked of me in religious life.
I grew a lot over the course of prepostulancy and during my two months as a postulant. And when I returned home from the convent, while it felt natural for me to continue veiling in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, it was with a very different mindset than when I’d begun the practice.
Thus, a week after leaving the convent, I found myself at daily Mass trying to push aside my anger with myself, my 
anger with some of my former Sisters, my feelings of deep vulnerability, abandonment, and loss, and basically just an overwhelming amount of inner turmoil. While I was kneeling in thanksgiving after Mass was over, an older gentleman approached me. “It’s so nice to see a young woman with her head covered at Mass! The Lord is granting you many graces for wearing that,” he said to me. Whereas before, this comment would have spoken to my pride and made me feel flattered (“I know! I’m such a good Catholic!”), now I just felt irrationally angry. I wanted to yell at him that “With that mindset, the Lord would probably be granting me far more graces if I were still in the convent! You don’t know anything!” Noting my anger and resolving to take it to prayer to examine it later, I responded instead with a weary smile and as much restraint as I could muster: “I hope the Lord grants me graces regardless of what I’m wearing on my head.”
During a personal Holy Hour a little later, I returned to that interaction. “The Lord is granting you many graces [for wearing a veil]”, I quoted in my journal. “Well,” I continued writing, “I personally hope the Lord is granting me graces because He loves me and because I love Him and try to follow His will, not because of some piece of lace on my head. In fact, I have a feeling that I received more graces in not wearing a veil as a prepostulant than I do now in wearing a veil as a laywoman, since the former was done in obedience.”
“But God doesn’t love me because I veil or because I pray or because I entered the convent. He loves me because that is Who He is. And because Who He is doesn’t change, His love for me will never change. His love for me is not dependent upon what I do or don’t do, on what I wear or don’t wear. I am loved no matter what because He is love and He loves me.”
Until that moment, I’d never realized or admitted to myself that I’d been trying to earn God’s love, but that’s what I’d been trying to do. I didn’t feel worthy of the Lord’s love, so instead of accepting that I am unworthy and He loves me
anyways, I tried to make it “worth it” for Him to love me. But somehow, in that place of brokenness, of realizing just how weak and sinful I am and how insufficient all my “great big efforts” to make myself “worthy” of being loved by God actually are, the Lord spoke Love into my heart. “Oh, little one,” I heard Him say, “My dear, sweet little one, you don’t need to try to win My love, you don’t have to earn it. You can’t earn it. My Heart is already yours and nothing you do will ever alter that.”
I am eternally grateful to that older gentleman for helping open my eyes to the reality of the Lord’s love for me and for helping open my heart to His healing. His comment led to a moment of deep insight and consolation that has been helping me navigate the stormy waters of these first few months of post-convent life.
I still wear a veil at Mass. I continue to love the tradition, and it helps remind me that I am both beautiful and His bride, even if I’m not a religious sister. But I now veil with more humility and less rigidity because I realize that it won’t “earn” me anything. It’s one of the many precious insights that the Lord has so graciously granted me since leaving my former community.
“You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;
You have ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes.”
(Song of Songs 4:9)
Nov 18, 2015 |
By Mater Dolorosa.
I love to walk and I have made it part of my daily exercise. Very recently I moved from a suburban neighborhood to the country so I am exploring routes. I went for my third walk in the new area and got a few minutes away from the house when I realized I probably should have brought a flashlight. The sun was setting and it was going to start getting dark. I paused for a moment but decided to just continue on and take my chances.
I was heading West, towards the setting sun. The blues, purples and pinks were gorgeous and I enjoyed the view a great deal. The trees were bigger the further I walked and the blocked more of the light. The road was a bit dim but it was alright. I relished the exercise, freedom and fresh air.
After 10 minutes I decided to turn around and return home. But things were different in this direction. The view was hazy. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at. I hoped there weren’t any snakes or dead animals in the road because I wouldn’t be able to see them. My eyes started playing tricks on me as I strained to see further ahead. Was something moving up there? If I tripped and sprained my ankle would anyone find me? If a car came, would it be safe to move out of the road or is it a ditch? If I hadn’t timed my walk and knew it would be 10 minutes back, I certainly would have wondered when (if!) I would arrive home.
This experience caused me to reflect upon darkness in prayer. There were times in the past where prayer was more difficult. For instance, I actually had a very hard time praying in the convent. But I had an idea of where I was headed and I trusted that He was leading me there. Things were a bit muddled on the outer edges, but I was still making my way along the path.
But when I returned to lay life things changed drastically and I felt plunged into darkness. Prayer was torture and I felt as though I didn’t really know how to pray. The streetlamps and porch lights that had previously guided me seemed to be extinguished and I grasped and stumbled as though I were blind. I had heard the analogy before about the spiritual life being like walking with simply a flashlight so that one can only see directly in front of oneself. But this was different; I had no flashlight.
How did I survive? The most helpful thing was hearing from other women who had been in the convent and realizing they had felt this way too. I wasn’t a terrible person for this darkness and I should not blame myself. It was difficult to learn this lesson but I begged Him to help me see the truth about my soul (in other words, how He sees me). The women I spoke with also encouraged me to persevere in prayer, even though it was torture.
A priest also helped me sort through expectations for my prayer. For example, he suggested I not try to keep up with the Breviary but that I should still attempt a daily rosary. Finally, being a part of the Leonie’s Longing community has been a lifesaver.
Knowing that I am not walking this path alone makes an indescribable difference. Reading blogs such as Park It (at All Costs)! helped normalize my experience and encouraged me to keep striving.
If you’re feeling this way, please keep praying! Talk to someone you trust about it and be assured that God is particularly close to you in this time. Tell Him honestly how you feel and allow Him in. Finally, know that everyone involved in Leonie’s Longing is praying for you. We can do this together!
Sep 7, 2015 |
By Guadalupana.
September 8th, the Feast of the Nativity of Mary, was an important day for me in religious life. Not only was it the day that I had entered religious life, but it also became my personal feast day. Sisters discerned their feast days and I chose this one.
Reflecting on my time in religious life, I am struck by how Mary was interceding for me. I underwent a LOT of trials in the couple of years and especially the couple of months before entering religious life as well as during my time as a postulant and novice. WOW! I could focus on the cross or I could focus on how Jesus revealed His love for me more intimately during times of difficulty and how Mary became more of a mother to me.
When not “feelin’ much love” from one sister in particular whom I looked to for guidance and at times fearing that God would not love me in my many imperfections & weaknesses, Mother Mary at times gently stepped in to console me of God’s love for me, to remind me of the importance of prayer, and to stir into flame a desire more for motherhood, spiritual as well as perhaps physical. It was on two different Marian feast days that I had such a painful desire to have children. At the time I thought I was being asked to sacrifice this but now that I am no longer in religious life, perhaps my heart was really being prepared for something else: time will tell on that one! What I will speak to now is spiritual motherhood. This call grew in my heart while in religious life. I didn’t realize then that this is something all women are called to, not just religious sisters.
There is a quote about spiritual motherhood that I came across much later after leaving religious life. It’s from a book titled Discovering the Feminine Genius: Every Woman’s Journey by Katrina Zeno. The quote goes like this: “Spiritual motherhood…means nurturing the emotional, moral, cultural, and spiritual life in others. All women are called to give birth-physically and/or spiritually. All women are called to be Christ-bearers, to receive divine life in the womb of their souls and bear Christ to the world. All women are called to see in Mary’s spiritual motherhood a reflection of their own lives. If all women embraced the call to spiritual motherhood they would ignite a nuclear reaction that would spread the culture of life through the whole world. The feminine genius would set the world on fire!”
I felt the need to “just be” more after religious life and not get too involved with things. Slowly though through various life circumstances & even misunderstandings, I’ve found myself in different roles and involved in ministries where this call to spiritual motherhood could be further developed & lived out more. Keeping in mind that God could always re-open the door, I’ve shut the door to religious life and feel that I am in a sense “waiting”, perhaps waiting for my future spouse (while God is also still my Spouse!) while living life and allowing my heart to continue to heal & grow more. “God only knows” if one day I will give birth physically to children, but I have given birth to Mary more in my heart and she has helped me to give birth more to Christ in my own life & in the lives of others. This is all still very much a work in progress though!
There have been times when I’ve wondered if being in religious life for almost three years had any purpose. This may especially be true when I look back through the lens of all the personal sufferings I’ve experienced! However, I need to trust that a greater good came from suffering and that my time there bore fruit. Besides learning how to boil water and growing more in prayer, there was something that happened on my last day when taking a walk with the sisters in my “class” a couple of hours before leaving that struck me. Never had we seen anything like this before, but as we were walking (and it was a short walk in a residential area near the convent), we saw a set of little twins. We then walked a little further and saw another set of young twins. Near the end of our short walk, we came across three kids with their parents and one of my sisters stated that we should ask if two of them were twins. As it turns out, they were triplets! priest I shared this story with later seemed to think that this was God’s way of showing me that my time in religious life was not wasted. It gave life to others.
May we each give birth to Mary more in our hearts and ask for her intercession to help us carry Christ more & more inside of us and to bear Him to the world.
Nov 20, 2014 |
By Misericordia.
Many of you, I am sure, can remember the day of your entrance into Religious Life. It was a momentous occasion with tears of joy mingled with those of sadness. On that day you had a rough vision of what the rest of your life would look like, and knew that your life choice was an offering up of married life and the prospect of children.
On this day we celebrate the “entrance” of Our Lady when, according to the tradition of the Church, she was presented in the Temple by her parents Anne and Joachim and dedicated to a life of consecrated virginity. Her life had an expected trajectory and there was no reason to doubt that these plans would not come to fruition since it seemed to be the Will of God. Why would God not fulfill this plan?
We all know what happens at the Annunciation when it seems as if God changes His mind. Why did He wait almost ten years? You would think He would have hinted to her or her parents at some point! Does Mary protest? Does she quit? Does she think she “failed” God? Of course not!
In a very particular way, we are conformed to Mary’s Immaculate Heart since we too have offered ourselves to the Lord, and we too have experienced the crumbling of our expectations.
But this sudden change is not a failure or a rejection!
The reason we can look to Mary as a model is not just that Mary did not complain or sit there feeling sorry for herself. More importantly, she also knew that this “mistake” was still part of God’s plan. She did not doubt that He would fulfill all of His Promises, and she even rejoiced at the news! Imagine, being an unwed mother in a society that didn’t accept her kind of situation very easily. Imagine having to tell Joseph and her family, and being gossiped about in town.
We can see her as an example of encouragement and proof that God still has great plans for us, that we didn’t “fail” Him or our vocations- since He is infinitely greater than those things (yes, even our vocation)! We can say with the utmost faith that He still receives us as a gift, even though we might feel like the gift of ourselves that we made on our entrance day was not accepted.
He receives you with open arms. You are His Beloved Daughter still and always! Rejoice today as we celebrate the Presentation of Our Lady and let it be a reminder that because of Mary;s “yes” we are able to call ourselves Daughters of God and even “co-heirs” with Christ in the Heavenly Kingdom, regardless of our earthly vocation.
Oct 18, 2014 |
By AfterEpiphany.
I experienced God’s indisputable sense of humour (hey – He’s the AUTHOR of humour!) on the day that I left the convent. Through a strange act of Providence, I was rostered to do the First Reading at Mass with the Community on the morning that I left. Attending Mass was my very last act in Community – afterwards, I was whisked away to gather my things, eat a quiet breakfast and prepare to leave for the airport, whilst the rest of the community all went to community breakfast.
The fact that I was the reader for the day meant that I absolutely couldn’t become distracted or zone out during the reading. The significance of every word I read is even still with me. But what has me gobsmacked (yes, even now!) is the particular reading it was that day – Is 62:1-5. Here is a snippet from it:
“No more shall people call you ‘Forsaken’ or your land ‘Desolate’, but you shall be called ‘My Delight’ and your land ‘Espoused.’ For the Lord delights in you and makes your land his spouse. As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you; and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride, so shall your God rejoice in you.”
Um… WOW.
I really don’t think it was an accident that this particular Scripture passage was the reading for my last day wearing a religious habit, responding to a religious name, and belonging to a religious community. I think He had a message of comfort, and hope and deep, intimate love for me that day, one to carry within my heart for the rest of my life. Perhaps He also intended this message for each of you – my brothers and sisters in Christ who have experienced similar life changes of late in “discerning out” of your religious order or seminary.
Those questions that so many of us ask upon returning to the world: does God still love me? Doesn’t He want me to have an intimate relationship with Him anymore? If I have to be out in the world, can I still make my life all about God? Can I still bring others to Him as a lay member of the faithful?
This reading is His answer to me…
… and maybe to you as well?
He calls each of us to intimacy with Him. And even if we are not being wed to Him in the same mystical sense described in Canon 607, there is still a spousal element to our relationship with Him, by virtue of our membership in the Church, His Bride, for whom He freely laid down His life.
“Religious life manifests a wonderful marriage brought about by God… a gift of self by which their whole existence becomes a continuous worship of God in love…” ~ from Canon 607
But aside from all of that, He is my Builder and my God, and HE DELIGHTS IN ME!! *shakes head* I still don’t get that! It’s a mystery, but I trust that it is true. He delights in you too.
Yes, you!
To conclude, here are some passages to sit with; as scattered as they might seem at first glance, they unite in a very definite, and comforting, message of hope and promise:
Mt 28:20 | Songs 3:1-4 | Jer 29:12-13 | Is 54:4
AfterEpiphany spent 1.5 years living religious life, half a world away from her homeland, convinced that God was calling her. He was: to a deep conversion of heart. Out in the world again, and with a professional background in IT Project Management, it would be remiss of A.E. not to have a 5-year plan for herself! her twofold plan consists of the completion of a PhD in Theology, and securing a job in an academic library as her interim livelihood. She cares deeply about faith education and the spiritual formation of young adults.
anger with some of my former Sisters, my feelings of deep vulnerability, abandonment, and loss, and basically just an overwhelming amount of inner turmoil. While I was kneeling in thanksgiving after Mass was over, an older gentleman approached me. “It’s so nice to see a young woman with her head covered at Mass! The Lord is granting you many graces for wearing that,” he said to me. Whereas before, this comment would have spoken to my pride and made me feel flattered (“I know! I’m such a good Catholic!”), now I just felt irrationally angry. I wanted to yell at him that “With that mindset, the Lord would probably be granting me far more graces if I were still in the convent! You don’t know anything!” Noting my anger and resolving to take it to prayer to examine it later, I responded instead with a weary smile and as much restraint as I could muster: “I hope the Lord grants me graces regardless of what I’m wearing on my head.”
During a personal Holy Hour a little later, I returned to that interaction. “The Lord is granting you many graces [for wearing a veil]”, I quoted in my journal. “Well,” I continued writing, “I personally hope the Lord is granting me graces because He loves me and because I love Him and try to follow His will, not because of some piece of lace on my head. In fact, I have a feeling that I received more graces in not wearing a veil as a prepostulant than I do now in wearing a veil as a laywoman, since the former was done in obedience.”
for helping open my heart to His healing. His comment led to a moment of deep insight and consolation that has been helping me navigate the stormy waters of these first few months of post-convent life.
By Mater Dolorosa.
en I spoke with also encouraged me to persevere in prayer, even though it was torture.
By Guadalupana.
Every Woman’s Journey by Katrina Zeno. The quote goes like this: “Spiritual motherhood…means nurturing the emotional, moral, cultural, and spiritual life in others. All women are called to give birth-physically and/or spiritually. All women are called to be Christ-bearers, to receive divine life in the womb of their souls and bear Christ to the world. All women are called to see in Mary’s spiritual motherhood a reflection of their own lives. If all women embraced the call to spiritual motherhood they would ignite a nuclear reaction that would spread the culture of life through the whole world. The feminine genius would set the world on fire!”
was something that happened on my last day when taking a walk with the sisters in my “class” a couple of hours before leaving that struck me. Never had we seen anything like this before, but as we were walking (and it was a short walk in a residential area near the convent), we saw a set of little twins. We then walked a little further and saw another set of young twins. Near the end of our short walk, we came across three kids with their parents and one of my sisters stated that we should ask if two of them were twins. As it turns out, they were triplets! priest I shared this story with later seemed to think that this was God’s way of showing me that my time in religious life was not wasted. It gave life to others.
By Misericordia.
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