The Best of Both Worlds...

"We and the world interpenetrate.

We are in the world like salt in the ocean.

I myself am my own door to the world

and in a sense

the world is the door to myself."

~James Finley

As I depart the Monastery twice a week to travel to Birmingham for my nursing ministry at St. Vincent's, Birmingham, the words from Ps. 121 come to mind as I exit the front gate- "The Lord will guard your coming and going both now and forever." I leave the peaceful environment of my monastic home and journey through rush hour traffic to get to work on time, wondering the whole way how stressful the day will be. Most everyday is very busy, yet some days are enjoyable because of low census during holiday weekends. As I travel, I ask for God's grace to be an instrument of his love to all my patients, the vistors, and my co-workers. Even with 36 years of nursing experience, there still is the ongoing struggle of how to put the spirituality component into my nursing practice, how to merge my religious life with the secular world. In my heart and my mind, I know these two worlds are not separate; there is only one world. Yet, I fail at times to be constantly aware of this conviction as I begin to handle the unexpected events of the fast-paced hospital world.

Yesterday was one of those days. The unpredictable kept happening and happening and happening and happening. I was lucky to get a lunch break at 1:30 pm only because I thought I might pass out if I didn't get something to eat or drink and I knew I still had too much to do- no time to pass out! After lunch, I felt better and planned to make my rounds, finish my charting, give report, and leave ON TIME. But oh, no, everything started happening and happening and happening again. I left an hour late. On the ride home I tried to recollect God's presence in this "ordinary" day of my life. The only response that came to mind was "Priscilla, you did the best you could. Let it go!"

Before I went to bed, I re-lived my day for a glimpse of something sacred, but I still only heard "Priscilla, you did the best you could. Let it go!"

During my prayer time this morning, I recalled a sacred glimpse of yesterday. As the oncoming nurse and I were making walking rounds, one of the patients thanked me for taking such good care of her. I told her I would keep her in prayer. Due to my exhaustion at the time, I did not recognize this as a graceful moment. But God gifted me with the sacred awareness of this event this morning. A revelation that I can carry as a mantra each day to work. God walks with me in my ministry whether I am aware of it or not. He "guards my coming and going both now and forever."

I recalled a prayer I wrote a couple of years ago for a Nurse's Week Awareness event:

A Nurse's Prayer

Bless my heart, Lord

this day and everyday

as I go from room to room

with that sense of doom

burdened by the hectic pace of the day.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as I respond to my patients' needs

with the same patience and compassion

you showed in all your life's deeds.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as you walk each step with me,

comforting me through each frustration,

reminding me that compassion is the key.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as you open my eyes to truly see

your face in all I meet,

a reflection of you I am called to be.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday,

when at bedtime hour I recall

the compassionate touches of love I gave

and the failures you forgave.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this night and every night

to begin another day aright.

This prayer is fitting for "both" of my worlds. It is the prayer I take with me on my "coming and going...both now and forever." To use the words of one of my favorite authors, Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

"May it come to pass."

A Woman of Joy...

Christ in the House of Martha and Mary

Johannes Vermeer ~1655

I recently gave a retreat at our Retreat Center on "Balancing the Martha and Mary Within" based on the Gospel of Luke 10: 38-42. The purpose of this retreat was to provide reflection time and to focus on one's balance of contemplation and action in this fast-paced world. Martha's role is very much seen as that of action, while Mary's role is that of contemplation. Martha is the perfectionist; Mary is the dreamer. Jesus is very much both action and contemplation. Jesus shows us throughout his life that both contemplation and action are necessary. The two go hand-in-hand; they are a both/and imperative, not an either/or option.

The "balancing act" imperative has been very much a part of my waking thoughts since the retreat. As I live my daily monastic life, as I face the challenges of active ministry, and as I strive to be open to the unexpected requests and demands of daily life, I have tried to stay awake to this hospitable image of Jesus. The above picture shows him very much attentive to both Martha and Mary and he calls me to do the same.

This past Saturday I went to Huntsville to visit one of our Oblates who has been very ill. Having just had a chemo treatment the previous day, I wasn't sure how she would be feeling on my arrival. Her husband (also an Oblate) greeted me at the door and she was right behind him-dressed and radiating her usual joyous smile. I entered the house carrying Bar-B-Que takeouts from their favorite place. We sat at their round dining room table sharing her life, his life, my life and enjoying the supper treat. We later sat in the living room, the three of us, attentive to one another.

As I was travelling back to Cullman, I re-lived the Martha, Mary, and Jesus experience of the retreat. I'm sure I was living out my intent of Benedictine hospitality to them, but her joy despite all she is going through right now was such a gift of hospitality to me. I cannot identify who was Martha, Mary, or Jesus on this agape visit. Jesus' joy was illuminated within her and I would like to think the three of us were all Martha, Mary and Jesus to each other. She was hospitable to me and I know she is rooted in her joyous desire to seek God all the days of her life.

My Oblate friend loves the writings of Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. The following quote decribes this woman of joy:

"Without an essential posture of openness, contemplation is not possible. God comes in every voice, behind every face, in every memory, deep in every struggle. To close off any of them is to close off the possibility of becoming new again ourselves."

~from Illuminated Life, Joan Chittister

Thank you, my friend, for your gift of joyous hospitality.

"Whatever Makes Us Wonder Comes From the Light." ~Rumi

One of my "to do" ambitions for some time now has been to create my own blog. A few years ago, I had no earthly idea what blogging was all about and never dreamed of asking someone to explain it to me. In browsing the web for spiritual resources, I discovered that blogging is used for sharing spiritual journeys of everyday life. I have discovered some of my favorite authors' blog sites, as well as other Benedictine Sisters' sites, many of whom I know.

St. Benedict, in the Prologue of his Rule, exhorts "Let us open our eyes to the light that comes from God..." This invitation has always been part of my spiritual journey in staying awake to see God's surprises in the ordinary events of life. As I took some solitude time at the lake this past Monday, I sat with my camera awaiting the opportunity for a God surprise. God produced and here is God's light bursting through the bowed leafy branch above me as I sat by the water. I have sat by this same ordinary branch for 23 years, yet never noticed the radiance of God's Light immersed within it. The unexpected image of the sunlight with its luminous rays reaching out to me has always been an awakening vision for me as I walk through life. Perhaps a camera in hand, open eyes, and eager expectation are the ingredients necessary to "seeing the Sacred in the ordinary."

Rumi gets it right in his poem: "Whatever Gives Pleasure"
Whatever gives pleasure
is the fragrance of the Friend.

Whatever makes us wonder
comes from that light.

What is inside the ground
begins to sprout
because you spilled wine there.

What dies in autumn comes up in spring,
because this way of saying no
becomes in spring your praise-song, yes.