Peru: On the Clouds Right Beneath the Sun

For two weeks at the beginning of August I had the great privilege to travel to Peru and Ecuador. The trip was simply amazing. The awe of the natural landscapes that we encountered is hard to describe and just as difficult to capture in images; it is something you need to experience.  Below you will find a selection of my photographs from the first half of the trip: Peru (Stay tuned for Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands.) Scenes include Lima, Cusco, Moray, Moras, the Sacred Valley, and, of course, Machu Picchu. May these images  capture the mystic beauty of the land  and reveal what your eyes are meant to see.

The Call to Come Home

"Make sure you come home!"

These words didn't stand out the first time I heard them, but as they were repeated over and over by each new person I told I was going to Peru and Ecuador, they echoed in my ears.

My dear friend Michelle had just made final vows and as we congregated at the reception word began to spread among the sisters that the next day I was off on an adventure. And thus, the phrase slowly creeped up on me.

Make sure you come home.

The first person who said it I smiled at- I had just experienced a wonderful time with my fellow sisters in formation, a time of bonding, sharing, prayer, and preparation for vows- how could I not come home to this place and this group?

After that first time there were many more sisters who repeated those words. But with less than 12 hours until I was scheduled to be on a plane to South America, that same phrase repeated in my head: Make sure you come home.

To be honest, the phrase made me anxious. I had every intent on returning from this trip. To hear so many people tell me I needed to come back put me on edge. Were they forecasting something?  The weeks leading up to Michelle's final vows had been tumultuous- finishing my work at the community center, trying to establish a routine outside of that work while being constantly pulled back to it, and being hit by a car on my bicycle- I had survived all of this, how could a little trip abroad get in the way of my taking this next step of novitiate with my life?

I hadn't been bracing for Peru to capture my heart any more than (or honestly any where near the degree that) the Philippines and Kensington have already. Yet hearing it said so many times I began to think twice. I took a deep breath as I zipped up my suitcase, the words of so many people ringing in my ears.

Then the weirdest thing happened.  Each day as I stood before something beautiful the same thought flashed across my mind- I need to go home; I want to go home.

Standing before the remains of Saints Martin de Porres and Rose of Lima-  I can't wait to get home.
Overlooking the Sacred Valley from beautiful salt mines on mountainsides- I need to go home.
Looking out over Machu Picchu- I want to go home.
Watching sea lions and sea turtles in all their majesty in the Galapagos- home. home. home.

Each time it happened, I mentally slapped myself. "You need to be present to this moment," I told myself.  I knew that this was a miraculous trip, that I was seeing things that should inspire wonder and awe. They did do that; yet, in the midst of such grandeur, my mind returned to the simple excitement and expectation of home. There was no way to get lost in what I was experiencing because my soul was and is already anticipating the invitation in front of me: to get lost in God, to continue the journey of finding myself, and to make my home in this life, which I am actively choosing and exploring with Jesus.

In the weeks to come I hope to share pictures and stories from my time away and my final weeks in ministry at the Community Center at Visitation, but the first thing that struck my was that call to come home.  It is a call I believe we are all pursuing- the call to come home... to be at home in our God, to rest and be recreated through living and discovering. I don't expect that the Novitiate will always be perfect (what in life ever is?) and I honestly, don't know what to expect from it, but I do know that great excitement lies within me at the simple opportunity to grow in my relationship with Christ.

As I returned to Philadelphia yesterday, I breathed a sigh of relief... I was home. I was returning to the place, Kensington & Philadelphia, that I proudly and heart-fully call home. I couldn't be happier to be back, even as the impending transition of moving looms large just a few weeks away. Thousands of miles and millions of memories later, I kept me promise.

They told me to make sure you come home... and I have.

    

Nuns on the Bus

This past Friday the Nuns on the Bus tour rolled through Philadelphia. The brainchild of NETWORK, the Catholic Social Justice Lobby, the "Nuns on the bus" have been touring across the United States since June 17th, raising awareness about the need for reasonable revenue for responsible programs as the Senate considers the national budget. The point? The proposed budget sponsored by Representative Paul Ryan would make drastic cuts to social services in this country- the nun's wanted to raise awareness about what is happening and try to inspire people to stand up for the poorest of the poor who would be affected by this plan.  I was invited to speak about the people I work with who would be adversely affected by this budget. It was a pleasure to be a part of this wonderful cause, call for dialogue, and defense of the most vulnerable. Below are the remarks that I prepared and delivered at the Philadelphia "friend-raiser" at Chestnut Hill College on Friday, June 29th. Hopefully, video of the event will follow... Enjoy!

When I moved to Philadelphia two years ago it wasn’t because of the promise of a cushy job. No, I came because of the sisters- the work they were doing, the faith that they had, the people that they work with and the promise that our neighborhood holds.

The Kensington neighborhood of Philadelphia is one of, if not the, poorest neighborhoods in Philadelphia.  The Community Center at Visitation seeks to serve our neighbors without regard for race, age, faith, education, or income.  Our neighbors are exactly that, our neighbors, those who Jesus calls us to love and serve with compassion and care.  The people that I work with day in and day out are an inspiration to me, they have captured my heart, and they are the ones who will be most adversely affected by the Ryan Budget.

Budget cuts can easily come down to a game of numbers. To save money here, we need to cut funding there- figures fly back and forth and as politicians try to balance the budget, the most vulnerable of our neighbors’ lives hang in the balance.

Of the 159 million fewer meals that low-income Pennsylvania families would receive under this plan, I can only imagine the way Theresa Hernandez will have to stretch what little she and her 3, soon to be four, children have to eat to make up for the resources that will be taken away from them.  Local food pantries will help to subsidize this loss but budget cuts will affect the resources of those organizations, too.  In the last two years alone, our food pantry at the Community Center has doubled the amount of food it gives out in a month- if fewer meals were available to our neighbors there is no way that we would be able to provide for them.

Among the over 1.6 Million seniors and children in Pennsylvania who would lose health care access is Joe Stevenson, a homebound diabetic in his 70’s who I visit each week, not to mention the home healthcare worker who comes in to check-up on Joe and who could lose her job, under the proposed budget, and be unable to provide for her family.

These are the people behind those numbers that are so easily cut in the Ryan Budget. We cannot balance our budget on the backs of the poor. By eliminating key services, we don’t give our brothers and sisters who are already vulnerable any chance at survival- and if they falter we all do. We need to stand up for change, believe in hope, and trust that the promise that is in our neighborhoods and neighbors is worth protecting.

The Freedom of a Life Undictated

I thought I knew what this post was going to be about. The story was pretty well laid out. This morning I would go to the Lisa's house and with the help of our maintenance man we would help her pack up the last of her things and get her on the road to Florida.  The plan was simple. But, as is the case with stories, you can predict an ending but you can't guarantee that it will turn out exactly as planned.

You see, Lisa's story is a little more complicated than just a move.  For almost the last two years I have been visiting Lisa. A transplant to Philadelphia from Jersey, we had things we could relate about and in time I have become, in her words, Lisa's "go-to girl".  I did what I could. After all that seems to be my job where ever I go.   I had college volunteers clean out the basement after flooding ruined most of the items her and her boyfriend were storing there.  I would visit, drink tea, and just talk.  We worked with her to get the couple rides so that they could come to church. And when the block they were living on rapidly deteriorated and their landlord decided not to renew their lease, I gathered a crew helped them move into their new home.

The past few months we have shared rides to a store in Germantown that will accept her food stamps and has good deals.  Our time together has strengthened our relationship and in time, Lisa shared with me some of her burdens.  There was the insecurity that so many families face of not being able to make ends meet and there was the sorrow that comes with having lost both parents after having cared for them.  Then, there was the struggle of caring for her boyfriend who suffers from a degenerative condition of the back, started by a mysterious bacterial infection in the spine and which has brought the couple through thickness the last few years.  Although not easy by any means, these issues were ones that simply required a companion. They were the burdens made lighter by having someone to share feelings with and to simply have a compassion ear to hear and shoulder to lean on.  In time, I was able to provide a space of reason, to ask constructive questions and quiet Lisa's anxieties enough to let her think things through.

Yet, in the last few months a new, deeper burden surfaced. At first, Lisa would just mention it in passing. Then it became something that I could gauge by Lisa's mood when she got in my car or her voice on the phone.  She was being abused.  Not physically, but psychologically.  It started when her boyfriend stopped taking certain medications, but then it turned into a regular occurence with or without meds.  Lisa began to need more time outside of the house and the entire situation came to a head one night when she frantically called me.

I gave her numbers for shelters, explaining that what she was experiencing was indeed domestic abuse.  I told her that she deserved better and made all the recommendations in my power- call the hotline, get out of the house, go and stay with your family.  She didn't want to have to rely on anyone else, to have to ask for help, so she spun her wheels for a week. Finally it got to be too much.  She called me and told me that she had finally called her uncle in Florida and upon explaining the situation, he told her she needed to come to his house.  So, we began planning. I researched routes there, including places to stop along the way. We put in a change of address form and went shopping for all the necessities that she would need for the trip and that would keep the household set when she left.  With all the arrangements set, she decided that Wednesday, June 6th would be the day.  He boyfriend had a doctor's appointment so he would be out all morning, giving us ample time to pack and get her on the road before he returned, finally fulfilling what had been an empty threat up until then that she would leave.  By noon she would be on the road set to drive until her first stop in North Carolina. I had the entire story mapped out in my head.

This morning came and went... The story did not go according to plan.

I got a call just after 9AM that medical transport had just picked up her boyfriend. "He knows something's up" Lisa said over the phone, "He just kept asking if I was going to be there when he got back."

As our maintenance man, Leslie, and I drove to the house, I got another call. "He had them bring him back home." the voice said quietly, the fright and confusion coming right through the phone. As I hung up, I turned to Leslie and said, "This is going to be a wild ride." And it was.

I'll spare you the details, but after much "discussion" between all parties- Lisa and her boyfriend & Lisa and myself- she came to the conclusion that she could make it work. After all, he was saying he would change.  I looked her in the eyes said, "Do you really believe that, Lisa?"

With tears in her eyes, she nodded. "Is this what you really want?" Again, she nodded.

If there is one thing I've learned in this ministry, it is that you can't make anyone do what they aren't ready to do.  If there's a second thing I learned today/this week, it is that you can't write a story before it takes place. Even now, I can't completely describe the emotions I feel: disappointment, sadness, helplessness, fear, detachment, and cynicism.  I understand where they all come from, but that doesn't make me want embrace them at all.  I would rather be feeling triumph, justice, and peace.  No such luck- that isn't the story that was written today.

Lisa said she'll give it a week and then reevaluate the situation. As I left her, there was a lingering hesitation; she asked me multiple times when exactly it was that I leaving the center, as if she saw that as her only window to escape.  Over and over, I asked her if she was sure she wanted to stay. I can't imagine that she is.

There is no telling what story lies ahead for Lisa or for any of us.  Even thinking about my own life story, there is a certain unknown quality. More and more I am finding that in order to soar, in order to be free, I need to let go of whatever I thought my story was going to be.  That letting go allows me to be in the moment.

It is a rare occasion that we can be free of all assumptions and presumptions, all goals and foresight. No doubt, these things guide our paths and I don't know where I would be without them, but at the point at which they dictate your life, eliminating true discernment and grace, that is the point where they are more harm than good. When perceived security and staying in the comfort of what we've always known- even if we deserve better- takes control we are trapped, unable to be ourselves, captive to the world around us.  To be open to all God is offering us, we need to let God (with our experiences & hearts) dictate the next steps.  And to ultimately be free in our ongoing story, we need to move beyond what we tell ourselves to simply be OK and really, honestly ask ourselves and God- what is it that you really want?

Transfigured Beauty.

It happened twice in the span of one week. Two people, unbeknownst to each other, made the exact same comment to me. It was unsolicited and each time it rang in my ears.

"You look beautiful."

That statement hung in the air between us. To hear it, not just as words or an offhand compliment, but as a heartfelt observation and truth was something completely different.

It wasn't something I said or something I did. And it certainly wasn't what I was wearing. No. It was a spontaneous comment on two separate occasions from two women I deeply respect. One my spiritual director and another a friend I hadn't seen in a few months.

Really, the comment caught me off guard. The last few weeks have worn me down with their frantic pace.  I am serving as the interim director of the community center, trying to keep activities at the center running smoothly and at the same time serving the neighbors I have dedicated my work to over the last two years. All the while, trying to balance ministry, family, friends, community, and sanity, with mixed results.

So, understandably when I heard the beginning of the statement, "You look..." coming out of their mouths I had expected some other adjective to fill the void.

Tired. Rundown. Stressed. All would be fitting candidates. But there on the third syllable of their declaration lay a surprise- Beautiful.

"You look beautiful." At first, I was taken aback, resulting in a prolonged pause. Did I really? If this woman who I trusted was telling me that's how I looked, it must be true, even if I couldn't quite see it.

You. Look. Beautiful.  I ran that statement, word by word, through my head after our conversations were well over. I had to pause at each word to understand what they were really saying. Quite literally they were saying, I was giving off the outward appearance of something wonderful.

Looking at myself, I couldn't quite perceive that "something wonderful" in my outer appearance. That's not to say, that I wasn't aware that something wonderful has been going on inside me.  But, I figured it was buried under everything else going on around me.

You see, over the last few months, the Spirit has been moving within me and I have felt more and more called to the novitiate (i.e. to formally enter into becoming a sister.) That motion by the Spirit has required motion on my part and on that of the congregation I want to become a part of: the Sisters of Saint Joseph of Philadelphia (Chestnut Hill).  It is a step on the journey that officially began over a year ago and unofficially began about a decade ago; it is also a step that will make the biggest change in my journey thus far. You know, little things like leaving my job, moving into a new community, and dedicating myself to two years of prayer, study, and experience to help deepen my relationship with Jesus and prepare me to make vows of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience... And, as of last week, I have officially been approved to enter the novitiate in September!

As I continued my conversation with one of the women who had pointed out my striking appearance, I came upon the story of the Transfiguration.  Surprise. Light. Fear. Guidance. Glory. Joy. Return.  All are aspects of the story and all continue to be aspects of my own story.  Yet, in the midst of it all- the chaos of the last few weeks, the many aspects of the story- there is transfiguration. That is, as the definition says, a change in outward appearance or a change so as to glorify or exalt. In these ways, I have been and continue to be transfigured.

Hopefully, that process will never stop. Transfiguration and transformation are the work of the Spirit in and through us. It's something that rings in our ears, something wonderful that takes hold of the whole of our being. As it grows, so do we into the ever-expansive love of God.

Back to the Blog

Hey Everyone,

Long time no chat. Yeah, sorry about that... things have been a little crazy on the other end of this computer, so please pardon the interruption. I have a new post in the works, a piece coming out in America very soon, and a whole lot of new steps coming up in crazy thing called religious life. Stay tuned & enjoy the ride. Peace & Blessings to you all.

Still Wandering in Wonder,
Colleen

Cross Roads

Lent is one of my favorite seasons of the year. It comes with such intention, such simplicity, such focus on who we are and what really matters-our relationship with the Divine.  That is what I love about Lent.

This year, though, has been different.  Through a confluence of life events, I find that the simplicity of Lent has been usurped by the barrenness that can only be found in the midst of chaos.  In the midst of scattered thoughts, deep emotions, and hectic happenings, the austerity of Lent is imposed as layers of being are stripped down by the natural occurances of life- unplanned, sometimes unwelcome, but never without the opportunity for growth.

In that spirit- the spirit of a Lent unlike any in recent memory- I find myself at the cross.

I have traced these lines over and over in my mind. I grip the marker in my hand like a child who has not yet learned how to write.  My fist holds tight and traces the lines from my mind onto the paper. The process is continuous, the pen's tip never leaving the page, my journey syncing with its movement up and down the page.

And as I draw this sign of faith and journey, I feel Jesus is there tracing it with me. Each step. Each line. Each movement. 

All roads lead to Jerusalem.

As this holy week begins, Jesus begins his journey to the cross and so do we.  Waving palms and welcoming God into our lives, we prepare for what is ahead. It is the journey we've been on and the journey that lasts so much longer than the next seven days. 

On the journey that is life, each road comes to the cross in one way or another.  For some the journey, in and of itself, is a cross to be borne. For others it is the experience of living the journey that brings us in time to the cross. And still for others the journey returns again and again to the cross. No matter how we experience the journey, this is the week that brings the cross to the forefront of our minds and asks that we examine where the cross is within our lives.  

Looking towards the cross this week, I find myself in the garden. Here, what will be will be.  The only thing that Jesus asks of his disciples is to "sit while I pray."  So, I sit attentively and, while God prays on his journey to the cross, let that prayer be within me. Let it be inside each one of us. 

Stay awake; Stay open; and keep your eyes focused on the cross- how it stands for you now on the journey and the bounty of promises that lie beyond it.

Seasons change and so do we, but we can always count on the fact that the cross will be part of our journey- a reminder of what is, what has been, and what always will be. Amen.

May this week be one of many blessing for you all as you journey in its mystery, on your own cross roads towards the promise of eternal life. 

With peace & prayers, Colleen