Showing posts with label RCIA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RCIA. Show all posts

Friday, November 20, 2009

7 Quick Takes Friday #8

This has been another week of tripping. So much has sped by so fast that I cannot believe that it is time again already to contribute to the 7 Quick Takes Friday meme hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary. So, here goes with a quick review of the life of a gypsy, as I seem to have become.

1. Friday saw me in Georgia, where I did some training for the employees of a branch of our organization. They usually get trained trainers, people who are assigned to our training division, but I love training, so I had picked a particularly difficult problem for them and had put it into an interactive, case-study format for reflection and discussion. They clearly enjoyed it because they begged to work late to do more of the problems that I had brought. For me, doing some training along with my “inspection” time takes the sting off the visit by the “big boss” and lets me get to know our branch personnel as individuals. I did feel somewhat embarrassed before them because I come so rarely (once every 1-2 years) that I could not remember all their names, but they forgave me for that. They left with hugs and the comment that now that Lizzie lives close by perhaps I would come more often. It is nice to be wanted. It is nice to have people ask for more of my time, not less of it! It is nice to be viewed not as the “big boss” but as the “great supporter.”

2. The weekend was lovely. I spent it with Lizzie and Blaine just over the line in South Carolina, where Blaine seems to meet with some anti-Mexican prejudice but is holding his own nonetheless and claims to be generally happy there. Lizzie came to my rescue through a shopping trip. I always forget something when I pack. This time it was my underwear. Given a week-long trip, that definitely needed to be replenished. Princesse, the cat from Tunis (see Twitterlets on the sidebar) who had been flattened by a falling mattress was, Lizzie thought, ready to have the wire removed from her jaw, so we went together to pick her up from the vet after Lizzie had dropped her off enroute to my hotel. No such luck! A slow healer, Princesse has to wait another three weeks. She is not quite herself. She usually attacks visitors – I guess she thinks she is a dog – but she calmly let me pick her up and pet her. Perhaps having had to rely on humans for a lot of support the past two months will have mellowed her permanently. That would be a positive outcome although Lizzie says she thinks it is the feisty spirit that brought her through when the vet was uncertain whether she would survive. At any rate, the weekend was a great joy and success, except for the hour I spent with Lizzie at her gym – I still hurt! It is difficult for mothers to keep up with daughters. Perhaps I should not try!

3. Supper on Sunday was a special event. We ate at a Mexican restaurant in South Carolina, so we did: Lizzie, Blaine, the director of our Georgian branch, his wife, his immediate supervisor who had traveled east with me, and me. The branch director has always been cautious around me, and therefore it has been difficult to get to know him. His wife, on the other hand, turned out to be a pleasant extrovert who had no hesitation in plunging into any topic at hand. She, for whom my rank was meaningless, and I clicked, as they say, and that, along with the ease in atmosphere quickly established by Blaine and Lizzie, led to the director, for the first time ever, lowering his affective filter, enjoying the dinner, and losing his caution in my presence. That changed relationship was evident during our next-day meetings. He had apparently been reluctant to bring his wife. I am certainly glad that he chose on the side of lack of caution.

4. Tuesday found me in Alabama, where I met a long-time friend who has recently moved to a center that is co-located with our Alabama branch. That evening our branch employees and I went to dinner at a seafood restaurant -- well, almost went to dinner. Right after our appetizers were delivered, the restaurant kitchen caught on fire, and we were all chased out into the street. The fire trucks came while we waited and then finally the manager said it would be another hour or two and forgave us our bills. That was not the way I would have wanted to get a free meal! Actually, the situation was a tad more complex. Everyone wanted to march off to another restaurant as soon as we had egressed from the restaurant, but "ruthless ethical" me (as I have sometimes been called insisted that we wait until we had a decision from the manager as to whether we should pay for the meal. We ended up with a free meal (or start of it) nonetheless, but with clear consciences, which can be more nourishing than food.

5. While at our branch office, I ran into someone who worked in another corridor, a very special corridor not occupied by anyone from my organization. It was a special program for school students about space travel. NASA helped set it up, and astronauts come periodically to help make presentations on space to school students. (NASA's involvement in K-12 education impressed me when I was working at NASA-Houston ten years ago, and it still impresses me.) This particular project had put together a relief of the Mars surface in a special room made to feel like you are in outer space, and the students build their own rovers. The overseer of this project had a background in engineering. How ideal! More ideal -- he exuded excitement in the possibilities of children to explore outer space either later in life as astronauts or right now on a mock planet.

6. After 11 hours of flying, I made it back home to California Wednesday evening -- yippee! -- just in time for an evening of Bible study with the group I meet with each week that includes Sr. M, a family who attends the Spanish mass at Old Mission church, several active attendees of the English masses, and two fellow secular Franciscans. Ah, that is what I love about California, the blending of various population groups, where we can learn from each other and grow together. Wednesday night we also had a special Bible scholar guest. While it had been a long day, following my late-to-bed-early-to-rise sleepless start of the day as a result of our late-night Tuesday search for a restaurant that was not on fire, the interesting discussions that ensued at our study group kept my attention flowing when I otherwise might easily have ebbed into sleep.

7. Today I had off from work! Yeah! I love when I have off from work and am in town because I can attend the daily mass. I had to drop off something for our Thanksgiving outreach at the parish office, did not talk as long as often I do, and so ended up in the chapel a few minutes early (a rare occurrence). Sr. M grabbed me as I came in and asked if I would do the reading. (Sure. I always remember the readings better when I am the one doing the reading! Who doesn't?) After mass, I spent a leisurely afternoon over coffee (for her) and milk (for me) with a fellow parishioner whom I had not seen for a long time. She is, in fact, the parishioner who always helps out with RCIA and had been very supportive for me during my time in RCIA. She told me that she had signed up for clean-up after the church-sponsored, town-wide Thanksgiving dinner next week because I am always on the clean-up crew and it had been too long since she had had a chance to work with me. Since she usually helps with something other than clean-up, I felt very honored. Finally, the perfect day off ended with catechism class. Since I had not expected to complete my work in Alabama so quickly, I had not expected to be back in time to teach catechism, but, lo, there I was! My wonderful co-teacher had the lesson plan under control, and I could relax and enjoy interacting with the teenagers. (I just found an interesting book that I am eager to begin including in our class work: If God Loves Me, Why Can't I Get My Locker Open?).

And now, I think I had better follow the drift that has been carrying me while I have been writing this post forth and back, to and from the land of slumber. At this point, I shall only sally forth into slumber and wait until morning for any return to a life and day that will start with 503 emails to be answered (I peeked!)

Good evening -- or good day, as it may be in your part of the world, and my God bless you whatever time it is!

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Sister M

Yesterday, when I blogged about being a broken vessel, I mentioned how easy it is to fall into the trap of comparing oneself with others, and some readers commented on how I am not the only one who does that, agreeing that we should not although sometimes there are people who can be models for us in their holiness.

For me, there is indeed one: Sister Maria. I am fortunate to have come to know Sister quite well. She lives in the Franciscan Sisters of Atonement convent in the woods overlooking the valley (quite a view from their living room) next to our parish offices and is the nun in charge of keeping everything in order there, something she is very good at. Like most of my other friends, and I do consider Sister a friend, she is considerably older than me: mid-seventies. Sister comes regularly to the prayer group and Bible study group to which I belong, and I benefit from her experience and wisdom. She also teaches catechism, as do I, so I see her (actually, I room with her) at the religious education conferences that we attend for our continued faith formation.

In addition to being a model for me in all her quiet ways, Sister, because of her accepting nature, is the one person in whom I have confided nearly all of my spiritual experiences for which I need greater understanding: the times that Evil seems to attack, the miraculous help and clearly God-sent healings that enter my life from time to time, understanding of prayer (especially contemplation which was my entry point into Catholicism -- Sister says I started backwards from most, who begin with ordinary prayer and work through meditation into contemplation whereas I was hit on the head and surrounded by the presence of God for two full weeks and had to learn later, through RCIA, how to pray the ordinary types of prayer such as thanksgiving and repentance), and more.

The "more" includes those early days when an interim diocesan priest who took over our RCIA group from Fr. Barry, visiting priest and director of St. Francis Retreat Center, waved aside any of my spiritual sensations and interventions as "nonsense." While Fr. Barry was and is always available to me, God bless him, he has been highly occupied with rebuilding the retreat center that had burned down. Valuing his time, I go to him only with the thorny issues. Over 80 years old and having already celebrated 50 years of Franciscan priesthood, he is never surprised -- he has seen it all in his 50+ years of ministry in the Franciscan tradition. Nor does he make me feel awkward or embarrassed. He understands, accepts, and gently guides in a way that has made him my de facto spiritual advisor.

Still, because of the demands on Fr. Barry's time and the abundance of my spiritual encounters and experiences, it is Sister Maria to whom I generally go for interpretation. She not only has time and wisdom for me, but like a true friend and counselor, when she sees that I need reproving, she does not hesitate to speak out. In some difficult moments, when I have not understood what it is God is trying to tell me, she has taken me into the chapel and prayed together with me. Now, there is a true friend! You can probably tell that I love Sister very much. I am highly grateful to God that He has not only surrounded me with priests, each of which has brought something special into my life, but also that He put me in Sister's path and led her to scoop me up and take me along for frequent intervals of her journey. Sometimes she is gone for long periods of time, taking care of God's business and her own ailing sisters, but other times we get long moments together through local religious social events which we attend in tandem with other friends. In addition, a triad of Sr. M, Robert (a spiritual director), and I (the most unlikely of choices except for my extroversion) share responsibility for the leadership of our local prayer group.

Sister M is the most humble person I know and, as a Franciscan and true servant of God, would be quite surprised that I would think of her as a model. Now, if I, in my Franciscan walk as an SFO candidate, could only come close to that! My hope and goal is to some day come close enough to earn the right to profess in the third order. (Regulation-wise, I could have done it already. Spiritually, I need more study and greater humility. And, like most people, I need more time with God.)

God has blessed me beyond anything I have deserved, and my relationship with Sr. M is one of those blessings. May all of you be blessed with someone in your life like my friend, de facto counselor, and model, Sister M, beloved by many, not just by me.