Fall has definitely arrived here in Chicago. The temps are cooler and the air has that bit of crispness that can only mean the change of the season. I’m pleased about this. As much as I loved this summer, especially after learning how to swim in Lake Michigan and training for my triathlon, I am still very much of a winter kind of gal. It’s the season that seems to speak most to me spiritually.
This morning I’ve been thinking a lot about a comment I received on my previous post. Lil, who just discovered this blog, wrote a beautiful little reflection that has just stayed with me. I remember asking some of those same questions when I was young and had a few nuns teaching at my grammar school. That’s probably why I never thought of myself becoming a nun because I figured they were way holier than I was, more prayerful, and had a direct line to God. I was just an ordinary kid mixed up in the world like everyone else. Years later (in my early twenties) when I got to know sisters, I found people that were kind of like me. Mind you, these women were/are stellar women, wise and compassionate … characteristics I would hardly give to myself, yet nonetheless, they were human beings, real and down to earth. What Lil said about being “like the rest of us” rang true for me. And like those first nuns, I am “still asking the questions…getting it sometimes, or never…but still dedicated to living devoted.”
One of my favorite saints is Saint Teresa of Avila, the great mystic, writer, and Doctor of the Church. I was always wowed by her descriptions of her experiences with God and her teachings on prayer. It wasn’t until later that I learned that Teresa had many, many years of struggling with prayer. You’d think that she had all the answers, that she could just pop into the zone with God at will. Yet she had periods of darkness where she couldn’t feel God’s presence even though she knew God was with her. Somehow, she hung in there and has left an incredible wealth of writing and experiences for all of us.
I take great comfort in Saint Teresa and try always to hang in there even when I don’t have the answers (which is more often then I would like to admit) or can’t seem to connect with God even though I know that God is closer to me than my very next breath.
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
deerose 09.12.07 at 4:31 pm
I too found lil’s post notable. It was so authentic. Although I love God dearly, I can sometimes get mad at God, I can feel abandoned. I certainly don’t have the answer to some of the big questions. But I seek enlightenment nonetheless - and live with the tension of that which is known and that which is hidden.
deerose
Ann 09.15.07 at 4:46 am
I was educated by Dominican nuns and I suppose I’ve always been a little curious about nuns in general. But more than this, I’ve always admired their courage in walking the streets of our towns and ciities , wearing their veils, declaring themselves to be Sisters in Christ. This was especially so here in the north of Ireland during The Troubles when there was a lot of sectarian strife and a lot of our nuns would have been involved in pastoral ministry in interface areas. Nothing deterred them from doing their work, answering the call, and to me that says as much about nuns as it says about love and dedication.
Lillithmother 09.15.07 at 1:44 pm
Thank you for this Sister Julie…it’s comforting to know that you and other devotees (I hope that isn’t offensive) stumble on the big questions too!
Peace in,
Lil
mud_rake 09.16.07 at 8:54 am
Hello Sister,
This Fall my thoughts turn to early October of last year when my sister, a Sister of Notre Dame in Toledo, suffered a massive stroke which took her life 10 days later. She lived 15 months with a glioblastoma, stage 4.
She entered in 1959 and was whisked out of my live and into those dark hallways of the nunnery during those oppressive pre-Vatican years. I lost my sister.
We never were close after that until, sadly, those last 15 months of her life. Luckily for you [judging by your photo] you entered when a bit of fresh air was allowed into the convent. I hope you maintain a strong relationship with your family.
Sister Julie 09.17.07 at 6:45 am
Thanks for writing, Lil. Blessings!
Jen 09.17.07 at 9:56 am
I’m with you…I love the fall and winter. Spring and summer don’t do much for me, either. My SAD seems to be tripped by the extended light we have in the summer, too. (It’s generally still light by 10-10:30 p.m. in June.) So someone flipped a switch yesterday, and it’s cold and rainy again! I couldn’t be happier!
Sister Julie 09.19.07 at 6:36 am
Mud Rake, thank you for writing … I am so sorry to hear about your sister. Sadly many religious women and men were not allowed regular contact with their families. Sisters sometimes even had to choose which parents’ funeral they would attend because they couldn’t go to both. Fortunately things have changed and we are able to keep connected with our families even when we are out on mission or live a more cloistered life.
I’m sure those 15 months meant the world to your sister because she had the chance to deepen her relationship with you. Blessings to you, Mud Rake. Sister J