Blessings from 2013

Yesterday it occurred to me that I didn't take any time to reflect on 2013 as it came to a close and the new year began. So I took some time then and there to make a list of the big blessings of the past year and the things that it taught me. Here's what I came up with:

1) Studying abroad - Being able to live in a foreign country for three and a half months and to travel all across Europe pushed me outside of my comfort zone many times. I learned more deeply of my own independence and uniqueness. I learned to trust that the Lord would provide for my needs and I learned to be more vulnerable with other people. Wonder became a constant attitude towards life. Friends were easy to make. Gelato and pizza were the staples in my diet for fourteen days.

2) A summer of service - I spent the summer of 2013 serving families at a Catholic camp. During this time I learned my own leadership abilities. Apparently I am great at directing people and delegating tasks; it became second nature to me by the end of the summer. Stillness possessed my soul during the first weeks of the summer and I came to understand what it is like to be detached from the craziness around me. When my physical, emotional, and spiritual strength shriveled up, I would beg the Holy Spirit to fill me with His strength and He always would. I experienced in a fresh way the weight of intercessory prayer: that God uses our words to heal and listens to our pleading on behalf of others. When I was together with the rest of the staff, I came to understand the power that each person's presence is. If someone was missing, the group dynamics shifted. I learned to maturely confront problems that I had with other people. Finally, I began to learn what it means to reach outside of myself to love others.

3) Household - This past semester was my first full semester in household. Growing in Christian friendship with my sisters taught me to be vulnerable with them. We cannot love and support each other if we do not share ourselves. Communication is key. I learned to share my faith with those around me, by speaking of what the Lord is doing in my heart. Several times over the course of the semester I found myself offering my bed to a household sister who really needed to take a nap and couldn't go back to her room at that particular time for whatever reason, and I learned again to sacrifice myself. Through conversations with my little and personal prayer, the Lord continued to deepen my identity as His Beloved.

4) Christmas with my family - It has been superb to be back with my family over Christmas break. My love for soup, baking, and reading resurged. I developed a love for playing guitar and watching high school basketball. Every single day I get to hug my family and tell them I love them. Even driving places with them is entertaining; our van seems like a clown car because we are all so tall!

5) Friendship - Probably the biggest blessings that came to me during 2013 were friendships with some pretty incredible people. Some were new friendships and some were older ones that have endured. These friendships have taught me that all relationship ought to be rooted in Christ and in Christian charity in order to be truly fruitful. They have challenged me to love other people selflessly, to see people as precious children of God who have the potential to be saints. Thanks be to God for my Alumni Corps Staff, all of my beautiful household sisters, Elyse, Allison, Grace, Yaya, Rachel, Dani, Becca P., Becca C. and Bry. I love you all. 

Still Growing...

Alright.  Now that the coolest, craziest, most blessed four months of my life (at least thus far) have drawn to an end, I thought I would get back to blogging before my summer job begins.  But be warned, the stories about my semester abroad have only just started.  

This past weekend I was blessed to go back to main campus and to see some of my household sister graduate from college.  (That's crazy!  They're old!  Glad that's not me!)  While I was there, an interesting thing happened: two different friends told me I looked older.  What?  It blew my mind because somehow, just by looking at me, they could see that I had grown while I was away in Europe.  I didn't look any different than when I left them in December, but they could tell that something was different.  And I didn't even have to tell them.

When I was thinking about this later, I realized that we talked about this very phenomenon in my Philosophy of the Human Person class last semester.  A person is made of a physical part (the body) and a spiritual part (the soul), and the only way that we are able to see the spiritual part of a person is through their body.  The soul is revealed in the body.  This weekend proved this truth to me.  My friends, just by looking at me, were able to tell that my soul had grown.  I know this idea might sound weird, but IT'S TRUE.

So there.

Rome Part 2: The Vicar of Christ

It is 8am and I settle down in my chair in St. Peter’s square to wait for the general audience to start.  Part of me can’t believe I am here.  I have seen so many pictures and postcards of this place that it seems like I am just staring at another picture.  But the rest of me feels entirely at home, as if I have lived in this place for my whole life.  

As I sit and wait and chat with my friends, more and more people pass through security and enter the square for the audience.  There are now thousands of people here, from many different places.  We are all here for the same reason – to say goodbye to our papa.  He has been such a gentle shepherd and a humble priest that our hearts are overwhelmed with love for him. 

A glimpse of the huge crowds that gathered in St. Peter's square on Feb. 28th.

 

The thought that we are all united strikes me.  Being surrounded by the many people from different countries, young and old, rich and poor, lay people and consecrated people, makes me realize again that the Church is indeed universal.  She welcomes all in her loving arms, leading them to Christ, just as the “arms” of St. Peter’s square welcome in all the pilgrims who have come to greet the Holy Father.  

One of my friends begins to talk to the people sitting in front of her.  They are Italian.  We chat with them for a little while.  Then someone suggests praying a rosary, so we invite the three Italians to join us.  This too shows me the universality of the Church.  We say the prayers in English while they say them in Italian.  One decade is lead in English and the next in Italian.  It is wonderful to be praying to the Mother of the Church in the place that is identified as the heart of the Church. 

In the short time that we interact with the Italians, we have become friends with them.  It is surprising, as we have no understanding of Italian and they know only a little bit of English.  Still, we understand each other.  They take a picture with us. 

The morning progresses, but we still have about an hour to go before the audience with the Holy Father begins.  The student life director brings us a small banner that has the name of our university printed on it.  We hang it up on the barricade.  A woman with two small boys who is standing at the barricade opposite to us sees the banner and yells over to us.  “I’m a Franciscan Alum!”  She is so happy to see us and asks us to contact her husband, who works for a Catholic news agency in Rome.  “They want to interview you.”  I take down the contact information to pass along to the student life director later.

At 10:30am one of the cardinals comes out onto the stage that is set up on the steps of St. Peter’s.  One by one he reads the Holy Father’s greeting to all the different language groups that are present there in the square.  He addresses the people in seven (or maybe more) languages.  I recognize: Italian, French, German, English, Spanish, and Polish.  When the English speaking groups are announced, we cheer loudly when we hear the name of our University.  It sounded funny, because the majority of our group was in the front part of seating and only a few of us were in the back. 

The excitement of the people in the square is building.  Any minute our Holy Father will appear.  The greetings finish and the cardinal takes a seat.  A few minutes later we see the pope-mobile emerge from the arch on the left side of the square.  The crowd erupts into cheers.  The joy and love that the people have for Benedict XVI is overwhelming.  I am caught up in it and blown away by it all at the same time.  I wonder what he feels like.  

Here he comes! 

We wait in suspense by the barricade, not sure if he will even drive past us.  The pope-mobile turns and goes around the opposite side of the square.  I try not to get my hopes up, because I don’t want to be disappointed.  Then he turns down to go across the back between the seats and the people standing.  We get excited.  He is coming towards us!  He is going to drive by us!  A few minutes later he turns down the little street and drives right past us.  I am right on the barricade, only six or seven feet away from him.  We are shouting “Papa! Papa!” over and over again.  I feel tears coming to my eyes.  As he drives past it feels as if the world is in slow motion.  Love for the Holy Father wells up in my heart.  And then, he stops.  Right in front of us.  For one or two minutes.  He kisses the baby of the woman who told us she was a Franciscan alum.  We are still shouting “Papa!”  Someone is pressing on my head in an effort to see him.  I don’t know what to think.  I feel so overwhelmed.  The moment passes, the babies are handed back to their mothers, and the Papa moves on to greet and bless the rest of the people in the square. 

He was right in front of us!  What a blessing!

 

When he has returned to the front of the square, he goes up onto the stage and addresses the people in all their different languages.  It is marvelous.  The love of the people surges up again every time he addresses a new group.  He speaks again about how we must step out in faith and trust more deeply in the Lord’s will for our lives.  When he is finished, we sing the “Our Father” in Latin.  Then we receive the blessing of Christ Himself through the hand of His vicar on earth.  I am overwhelmed by the beauty and the great grace of being in St. Peter’s Square for the last general audience of the pope.  He is such a loving and gentle Papa.

 

Habemus papam!

Last night I was planning to come to the computer lab after our Wednesday night Women's Scripture Group and post the next segment of my series of posts about Rome.  And then it happened.  A few minutes after 7pm, when we were all socializing at the TOR sisters' house, Meredith ran in and shouted "Habemus papam!"  You can imagine what sound came next - a LOT of  VERY LOUD screaming.  Even I was screaming...and I am not typically a screamer. 

When we heard the news my heart was filled with joy!  A friend and I snuck upstairs to the sisters' chapel while the sisters hooked up their computer to the EWTN live streaming of Vatican Square.  I begged the Lord to pour His grace down upon our new Holy Father.  When I went back downstairs there were about fifteen women hovering around the computer screen, which was perched on a coffee table in the middle of the sisters' living room.  We sang a song of thanksgiving together and then spent the next fourty-five minutes or so in an agony of suspense.  It was so exciting!!!

When we saw the curtains in the balcony window move we screamed.  And then shhhhshed each other.  I'm sure that most (if not all) of you who are reading this have seen the footage and know what happened next.  The cardinal came onto the balcony and announced that we have a pope!  It was a thrilling moment (not quite as thrilling as it would have been if I had been in Vatican City...but thrilling nonetheless).  When he said the name of the new pope, none of us knew who he was, but as soon as we saw him, we fell in love.  :)

What a humble man.  He asked the Church to pray for the Lord to bless him before he gave us his first blessing as our pope.  The silence in that moment was so rich and full of joy.  I knew that I was united with people all over the world in calling down the Holy Spirit upon our new pope in that moment.  WOW.   

Then we received our second papal blessing in a month! 

After the excitement of seeing Pope Francis step out onto the balcony was over, many of the students here (including myself) flocked to the chapel.  An impromptu praise and worship session began, followed by a rosary for Pope Francis.  My heart was full of joy, of thanksgiving, but my head was spinning.

All I have to say is that God really loves my roommate.  It was her birthday yesterday, and do you know what she asked for? 

A pope. 

And she got one.

Rome Part 1: All Roads Lead to Rome

It is 3:10pm on Tuesday, February 26.  I finish shoving the last few items into my backpack and purse: my hairbrush, camera, snacks for the road, homework that I am not really planning on doing but which I am bringing along “just in case.”  I pull on my boots and zip up my coat.  My roommate has already gone downstairs to get on the bus.  I see her Roma metro ticket lying on top of her travel mug on her desk.  I grab it and slide it into my back pocket – it would be disastrous if she didn’t have that ticket during this week long “super trip.”

           

Ready to get on the road, I head downstairs and outside to the buses with my luggage, a medium sized hiking backpack, a satchel I use to carry books and my laptop around the Kartause, and my purse.  I have probably over-packed, but it is too late now.  Besides, I am going to be gone for fourteen days, not just two or three.

It is nearly 3:30pm.  I show my passport to the RA who is checking us in, throw my luggage into the storage place below the bus, and climb on board.  As my classmates put their bags and coats in the overhead storage bin and begin to settle into their seats, the excitement is growing. 

We are going to see the Pope.  We are going to be there for his last general audience with the people of God before he steps down from the Seat of Peter and transitions to a hidden life of prayer.  We can’t believe this is happening.  None of us planned to be in Europe during this time of transition in the Church.  We are in awe of this great blessing.  It is the opportunity of a lifetime, made possible by the director of the Austrian program, the director of student life, and our professors.  Only a week and a half ago they had completely revamped the semester schedule so that this opportunity, this blessing, could become a reality for us.

And so now I find myself going to Rome with my classmates, three days before our planned pilgrimage to Rome, to see the Holy Father and then to wish him farewell the next day.  The buses begin to pull away and we say “auf wiedersehen ” to the Kartause and Gaming.  We will return only after a very long and exhausting, but hopefully fruitful, Roman holiday.  It is now around 3:45pm.

The bus turns right out of the Kartause parking lot (a first) and heads up into the mountains.  It is snowing lightly, but the flakes are very thick and large.  The road winds and becomes steep as we venture further into the mountains.  The bus is filled with music and the chatter and laughter of about fifty people.  We have just finished midterms and we are going to see the Pope – if that isn’t a cause for joy, what is?  Still, I am slightly overwhelmed by the noise.  I have been awake since 6:30am and I am getting tired.

Once we make it to the other side of the mountains, our drive is relatively straight and flat.  The bus drives through the night.  Every three or four hours it stops and we all pile out to use the bathroom, breath some fresh air, and stretch our cramped legs.  (We are used to this kind of travel now, after going to Poland and back two weekends ago).  The last of these stops is at 3:35am on Wednesday, February 27.  I am sleepy, but I get off the bus anyways.  This is our last stop before we reach Rome.  Before getting back on the bus again I grab breakfast – an orange, a banana, a granola bar, and a large bottle of water.  There is no way I am eating this now.  I get back on the bus and quickly fall back asleep. 

“Hey guys, it’s time to wake up.”  The RD’s voice comes over the bus’ speaker system.  “We are only a few minutes away from the place where the buses are dropping us off.”  I rub my eyes and stretch.  Then I shove my breakfast into my purse.  I am ready.  It is around 6am.

The bus pulls into a parking lot and we all pile out.  We stand in the parking lot chatting, then little groups of people begin to make their way to Vatican City.  I begin to walk with a group of friends.  Suddenly, we round a corner and I can see the dome of St. Peter’s before me, all lit up, with the pre-dawn sky painted navy blue behind it.  The sight makes me so joyful!  I laugh in disbelief.  The excitement amongst my classmates begins to build.  Soon we are running down the streets of Rome towards the Vatican.  We can’t wait to get there!  We can’t wait to see our Holy Father.

When we reach the gates of the city there is already a mass of people there.  Security doesn’t open until 7 or 7:30am, so we pack into the crowd and wait.  A group of American seminarians is next to me.  They form a circle and begin to pray morning prayer.  When they are finished, a friend and I begin to chat with one of them.  He tells us to climb to the top of the Cupola, to tour the necropolis underneath St. Peter’s, and how to get to a good bakery. 

 Waiting to enter St. Peter's square early in the morning.

The security guards open the gates and begin to let people through.  People are packed on top of each other.  They are pushing from all sides, in all directions.  I have no choice but to move with the crowd, otherwise I could be trampled underfoot. 

When I finally make it through the security line, about 20 of my classmates and I discover that the front section of seating where the rest of the school is sitting has just been closed, so we find some seats in the back, right next to the barricade.  At first we are disappointed and try to get through to the front with everyone else.  But then we begin to hope that the Pope might drive right past us.  This is exciting, but I don’t want to be disappointed, so I try not to get my hopes up.

It is only about 8am and the audience doesn’t start until 10:30am.  So I settle down in my chair to wait.  And as I gaze on the beauty of St. Peter’s and on the thousands of people who have come to say goodbye to Papa Ben, I am struck by how universal – how catholic – our Church truly is…

(To be continued…)

 

Waiting for the Holy Father's audience to begin.

Climb EVERY Mountain!

The iron cross at the top of the Kirchenstein.

Phew...it's been a while, hasn't it?  It has turned out to be harder than I thought to set aside time every week to write even a short blog post.  Not that there is a lack of anything to write about here.  It is simply that there are so many things to do!  (And also that when I get back from traveling on the weekends all I want to do is sleep).  

So thank you for patiently waiting for this post.  I hope you enjoy it.  This event originally happened about 2 or 3 weeks ago....

Well folks, this past Sunday I climbed my first mountain.  It was glorious!  I don’t think I can accurately describe the beauty or the thrill of climbing a mountain.  And pictures definitely don’t do it justice either.  But here goes nothing.

My friend and I left the Kartause around 1pm and walked across town to where the path starts.  It begins as a sidewalk between two houses and then there is a staircase leading up to the beginning of the trail.  This part of the hike was really easy.  The trail goes very slowly upwards and there is a lot of zigzagging back and forth across the mountain.  Seriously, if you just went straight up it would be a lot faster (but probably more difficult).  We took our time walking up, stopping to look at the view a few times…and we thought it was beautiful!  But we didn’t know that there was more breathtaking beauty to come. 

After about a half an hour we reached a “peak” called the Kirchenstein.  It is a huge rock with an iron cross on top.  You can look out and see all of the town and the valley spread out before you.  That was the breathtaking view.  We were very blessed because it was a beautiful and clear day with a little bit of sunshine!  (The sun doesn’t shine as much here as it does at home, probably because it is snowing most of the time).   My friend and I enjoyed the beauty of the view and soaked up the sunshine.  But we hadn’t reached our goal (the book), so we kept moving – onwards and upwards.

A view of Gaming from the mountain.  

Now the going got tough.  We started going more steeply uphill and in a few places we were crawling on our hands and knees.  There were spots along the trail where there were almost no trees and we could see everything on both sides of the mountain, including more beautiful mountains in the distance.  After about another thirty-minute hike we finally reached the book!  There is a metal box hanging on a tree, which holds the book.  After signing it (and looking through it to find the names of students who signed it before us) I said a little prayer at the shrine there.  Then my friend and I looked for our household name, which was carved in one of the trees in the little grove there.  We finally found it and took a picture. 

A view from the ridge of the mountain, before we actually reached the book.

After this we began our long descent to the bottom of the mountain.  But it actually didn’t take that long because… after we were about halfway down we decided to just slide down the mountain on our bottoms!  It was fun because the snow was so deep! 

At the end of the day we were exhausted, but content. 

Me with the iron cross.  Isn't the sunlight over the mountains beautiful?

Melk Monastery

Okay, this is going to be a picture heavy and word light post.  I know that my family and friends back home are eager to see pictures of the beauty of Europe!  And my thoughts are not organized enough yet to write a full blown blog post.  

The pictures below are of the monastery of Melk, a Benedictine monastery that has been operating for roughly 1000 years.  That is hard to imagine when you are from a country that is only a few hundred years old.  Just for clarification, this is not where I am living.  The monastery I am living in is no longer a monastery, but a 4 star hotel!  I will post pictures of the Kartause and the town of Gaming later.  And now, ladies and gentlemen, here is Melk:

 A picture of the main courtyard. 

 An outdoor corridor.  Isn't it peaceful?

 A hallway in the former imperial guest suite.  Apparently the doorway at the far end of the hallway is a little bit shorter than the one at the end where I took the picture.  This makes the hallway seem even longer than it is... and it was already pretty long!

The front of the monastery church.  The church is probably bigger than the cathedral in my home diocese!  It is painted yellow because of its association with the Hapsburgs, a family who ruled the Austrian empire, whose castle the monastery complex once was.

A view of the Danube river from the balcony in front of the church. 

The high altar of the church.  In the middle, above the tabernacle, you can see Sts. Peter and Paul shaking hands.  There are many statues and gold decorations all throughout the church.  But, since it is gold leaf/gold plating it only took 6 pounds of gold to decorate the entire church.

A view of Melk from across the Danube as we were driving to lunch.