On my morning walk today, I spied with my little eye …
Two rabbits
One literally running down the bunny trail
Only his cotton tail visible.
One coast guard ship
Patrolling the waters of the
Hudson.
An empty Heineken can
(Presumably empty … I did not check)
A myriad of birds
Which also serenaded my ears
Along with the oddly soothing sounds of traffic.
And in the distance
The city
People busy about many things
Starting a day
Full of promise.
I lived the first 18 years of my life in the same house on Seabury Lane in Bowie, Maryland. First the house was painted green, later yellow. We were a family of five children and two parents, later adding grandparents to the residential mix even as sibling after sibling went off to college, sometimes returning for a stint after graduation. (I’m the youngest.)
When I went away to college on the left coast in Portland, the Seabury Lane house was still home. As a young adult, I began to create my own home in Portland where I lived for 16 years until I entered community. But I still spent many holidays back in Bowie with the family. During the years when my mom was sick, the visits home were more and more frequent as my siblings and I provided a tag team support system. My Dad sold the family house about a year after my Mom died. I remember the last day I was there. I had a little ritual of thanksgiving, thanking God for everything the house had represented as home.
So where is home now? I’m often perplexed when people ask me where I’m from, or where is home. I no longer have family in Maryland. I have moved quite a bit since I entered community. My home CSJP Western region is Seattle, but I’m also at home in our Eastern region where I’m now living or in our UK region where I just had the pleasure of visiting. I just spent a few days in Portland for a meeting and visiting with friends. I have so much history there that it is also a place where I am at home. I just spent 2 1/2 years in Chicago for grad school and my sister and dad now live there, so that place also is special to me.
I have literally been all over the map the past month, travelling for community meetings and leadership/vocation related meetings and a conference and graduation and visiting family and friends and CSJP community. I’ve been in Seattle, Leicestershire and London, Chicago, and Portland. Each stop on the journey held elements of home — roots, connection, relationships, past, present, and future. This afternoon as I was on the last flight of this long trip, I found myself once again offering prayers of gratitude for the many places that are home to me, even as my understanding of home continues to shift and evolve.
And now I am sitting in my chair in my room in the place I currently call home. And it is good to be here, to stop moving and breathe deeply and sink into the present and presence of the people and place that right now make this community house my home.
I am in Chicago for my graduation from Catholic Theological Union. The ceremony is this evening. I am looking forward to celebrating with classmates, faculty, family, and friends.
The last time I donned a graduation cap and gown, believe it or not, was almost 21 years ago. Now I get to add a velvet trimmed hood to the ensemble as I become the last Francois child in my generation to earn a Masters degree. Coincidentally, my nephew Conor already beat me to it so the next generation is on their way.
This morning I took one of my favorite Chicago walks by Lake Michigan. It is always nice to return to favorite places, especially ones that have become sacred spaces of memory, thought, and prayer.
The Chicago grad school chapter of my life is officially coming to a close. The leadership chapter of my life has already begun. And it is all part of a whole, weaving together threads of learning and practice, mission and ministry, trial and error, love and justice seeking, contemplation and action.
My time at CTU has been filled with many blessings. I have come to know my own Catholic tradition more deeply. I have grown in my identity as a Catholic Sister and in confidence as one seeks to share her gifts in following Jesus.
Sitting looking out at the wide expanse of Lake Michigan, I am filled with wonder, awe, and gratitude. God is good my friends. God is good.
Today is a glorious day here at east coast groovy sister hq. Later this morning we will celebrate our Jubilarians. This morning I decided to take the fair weather and sunshine as an opportunity to enjoy God’s creation.
Our campus here is nestled on the top of the palisades, essentially a mountain along the Hudson. Today I ventured down along the river, walking on the Shore Trail in the Palisades Interstate park, from below the GW Bridge to just below our property.
As I sat on a rock along the river, gazing at nature and iconic symbols of progress, I was struck by the juxtaposition.
Of fowl and frenzy
Of tranquility and transition
Of creation and commerce.
This land is home to so many for so long … birds and groundhogs and other creatures. The native peoples who must have been awed by the high cliffs above. The settlers and immigrants from across the ocean. The teeming masses, the hustle and bustle, the poverty and prosperity.
And here I sit, on a rock, today gazing upon it all past, present, and that which is yet to come.
Simply amazing.
This Easter Friday morning, I found myself praying with this song – “And Jesus Said” by Tony Alonso. Here’s a little video prayer reflection I made a little while ago to this beautiful song.
And Jesus said
Don’t be afraid
I’ve come to turn your fear to hope
I’ve come to take you through the deep
To be your friend
Until the end
And give your troubled heart to sleep
I will never forget the first time I drove on to the property at St. Mary-on-the-Lake, the west coast regional center of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. I had driven 3 hours from Portland to attend my first ever vocation retreat. While I had been in contact with the vocation director by email, I had not yet met any of the Sisters and was still a bit unsure about this whole becoming a Catholic Sister thing. Truth be told, I was more than a wee bit nervous.
And then I drove onto the property and was immediately calm and at peace. It was the trees. St. Mary’s is on a wooded property with beautiful tall cedars and evergreens. When I say tall, I mean tall. They tower over our three story residence buildings. They are majestic and strong. They provide shade and endless green. They make for a cozy peaceful spot. They speak to me of home.
This morning I arrived back at this sacred spot, flying to Seattle from New Jersey where I am living at our eastern regional center (also a beautiful spot to be sure – in its own way). We have our Spring Assembly here on the weekend. It is always good to spend time with our CSJP Sisters and Associates, whether in the East, the West, or the UK. One benefit of my new gig is that it is now part of my job to spend time with them. How lucky am I?
I have moved around quite a bit in the past decade since I entered the community, and I will be spending the next six years or so living in New Jersey. But the Pacific Northwest is home. It is the place where my being is most at peace. Several of the Sisters greeted me in the dining room earlier today, welcoming me home, even if just for a short visit. I was lucky enough to live here at St. Mary-on-the-Lake the year after the Novitiate, and this community was my home base while I was studying in Chicago. They would always welcome me home for holidays and vacations or just for a visit. It is good to have a place like that, where people and landscape make you feel at home.
Some of you may realize that the title of this blog post is a nod to one of my favorite poems, by Mary Oliver. I’ll end this post with her words, inspired by a different landscape but entirely transferable:
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
– Mary Oliver –
Today is the Feast of St. Joseph! Margaret Anna Cusack (Mother Francis Clare) chose St. Joseph as the patron of my religious community, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, because he was a model of peace. In the words of our original 1884 Constitutions:
A few years ago I made this video prayer reflection for St. Joseph’s Day (complete with a rather funny typo). I invite you to spend some time today with Joseph, model of peace.
Happy St. Joseph’s Day!
As I prayed with today’s Scripture readings this morning, I was reminded of this video prayer reflection I created last summer as I was facing the possibility of major changes in my life. It is set to “If Not Now” by Tracy Chapman, a song that has had great meaning to me ever since I first heard it as a 16 year old (this album was constantly in the tape deck of my first car). It’s also a song with meaning that has grown for me over the years. Even now, in a new context, the meaning shifts and deepens.
I’m not quite sure why the story (John 4: 43-54) of the royal official who asked Jesus to heal his child made me think of this video prayer. Perhaps it had something to do with my suspicion that while the official did believe that Jesus could bring about healing, and he took the step to ask him to do so, he also wondered how it could be so.
So much in our life and in our world cries out for healing. In the words of Isaiah 65, may we too believe that God is about to create something new, something which will be the cause of great rejoicing and happiness.
Our job is to show up, here and now. The rest, my friends, is up to our loving and creating God.
Walking by I see
what I have seen
for days and days and weeks,
just white
snow and slush and ice.
Or
do I see what I expect
to see
and miss
the small
patch
of green.
Because it is there
it has been there all along
waiting to break free
of the snow and slush and ice
and proclaim the good news
of Spring.
It makes me wonder
What else do you think
I miss
because I do not
expect it to be there?
The Lenten Scripture readings can sometimes be hard to wrap your head around, and yet, on another level, they are so very simple. Trust in God. Serve. Forgive. Love. Be merciful just as God is merciful.
I find consolation in that the disciples also seemed to have a hard time wrapping their head around the message of Jesus.
Two cases in point …
In Sunday’s Gospel from Mark (9:2-10) we have Peter wanting to set up tents and stay on the mountaintop with Jesus, Elijah, and Moses, almost missing the point that this was a new moment. In the end it required a voice from the heavens to snap him out of it!
Today we have the story of the mother of James and John (Matthew 20: 17-28) asking that “these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” The sons also did not get it, thinking they were up for what was ahead without stopping to think of the level of sacrifice following Jesus might entail.
I imagine that Jesus must have been just a little bit frustrated when, once again, his friends just did not get it. But he rolled up his sleeves, sat down, and tried another way of teaching lessons in paradox. His way was not business as usual, but something new centered on God’s way of love, justice, and mercy.
“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
It shall not be so among you ….
What are the ways that we are called to live the paradox of the Gospels today? In our families? Communities? Ministry?
What is is that I just don’t get? My prayer this morning is for my heart and mind to be opened to Jesus’ never ending lessons in paradox this Lent.
At the Corner of Susan and St. Joseph 