Have you ever experienced a silence so profound, that it is almost deafening to your ears? It's overpowering. Silence is not the mere absence of sound, but the presence of something powerful.
I learned this this weekend, for I stayed back on campus to do a mini retreat for myself while the rest of the students went on a trip to Salzburg. I'm already going there when my family comes in the spring, so figured this weekend would be a perfect opportunity to explore Gaming, catch up on sleep, and most importantly grow in my prayer life.
The looming halls of the Kartause are so silent that it's almost eerie. I wonder if this is what it was like when the Carthusians lived and prayed here, in complete silence. It makes me feel so small, like I am in the presence of something greater than me. And that I definitely am.
This weekend turned out a lot different than I thought it would. Instead of being all rainbows and butterflies in prayer, like I thought it might be given the events of this past week, it was hard. It was confusing. It was almost as if God clouded up all of the beautiful things that had just happened in my soul and left me grasping for understanding. But there was growth, and growth hurts sometimes. As much as I thought I was failing at it, I grew in trust and faith that God is always with me, even when I can't feel Him in the ways I'm used to. I grew in obedience, to stay faithful to prayer even when it feels empty. I think He's doing a sort of spiritual detox in me. He's cleaning out of my heart all the gunk that has been stuck there for years, in order to make more room for more grace and love. Scraping all of this up is painful, but it's necessary in order to get rid of it. So I must stay faithful, and have hope that He has something great in mind.
However, God broke the silence this morning. Especially in the "Kartause kids", as we call them. They are the kids of all the professors, who are always running around and just being plain old cute. I didn't see them at all this weekend, until at Mass this morning. Almost all of them were dressed in their snowpants, in order to make the snowy walk from their houses to the chapel. One family has a young boy with Downs Syndrome. His face just beams with the joy of Christ. Every time the priests and servers line up at the end of Mass to process down the aisle, he shreiks with joy, runs up to stand with them, and walks proudly down the aisle next to them. It melts my heart. Two of Dr. Asci's little kids brought up the gifts today, in their snowpants. And as I was leaving the chapel, Professor Cassidy's kids were outside already on top of one of the big snowpiles. They were screaming words like "attack!" in their adorable Scottish accents, like something out of a kids version of Braveheart.
Living truly on my own for the first time in Gaming- knowing only the words "hello", "thank you", "please", and "coffee" in German- brought its laughs and lessons. Like how at the grocery store, they don't weigh your fruit for you at the checkout. You have to weigh it on a scale on your own back where the fruit is, and stick the little sticker that prints out onto it to show how much it is. Thank God the cashier spoke some English. I bought enough food to last me the weekend, even though the labels were all in German. I learned very quickly the importance of pictures when cooking instructions are in a foreign language ;) I even learned how to be resourceful, using olive oil when cooking a grilled cheese instead of butter because the kitchen didn't have any. It ended up tasting pretty darn good, and is probably how the Italians do it anyway!
This morning after Mass I walked down to the local cafe. Austrians have an innate ability to walk on ice without slipping, and therefore don't put salt on their sidewalks. To a clumsy American like me, this proves a problem and is a cause for embarassment. But I made it in one piece, learning how to grip with my toes. I ordered a pastry and an espresso, and sat there writing in my journal. I couldn't help but smile, because I felt so European. I felt like I fit in. Even though it was all in my head because of course everyone in there knew I was American. But it's the little things in life that keep us smiling :)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Awe and Wonder
This past week has been full of God's grace. I am still in awe of it, actually. This place is so freakin' blessed! If you open your heart to it, you can receive untold graces while you're here.
It started a week ago, when we took a day trip to Vienna. The city is beautiful, but the most awe-inspiring moment for me was going into the National Treasury where all of the Hapsburg family's crown jewels are kept. No, I didn't start drooling over a tiara, although they were beautiful. My favorite part was tucked away in a corner, past all of the robes and jewels, where the family's personal collection of relics are kept. Since Vienna was the last capital of the Holy Roman Empire, and since the Hapsburg family was devoutly Catholic, they acquired the largest collection of relics in Europe outside of the Vatican. Shelves and shelves full of relics of saints in ornate frames and holders. Even a piece of Mary's mantle! But amongst these saints are relics of even more value. Relics that have literally touched the body of Jesus Christ, that are an essential part of His Passion and Death. A piece of the tablecloth used at the Last Supper. A thorn from the crown of thorns, slender yet deathly pointy. A piece of wood from the True Cross. One of the nails that pierced Jesus on the Cross. I would have cried if my body wasn't so frozen in wonder at seeing these things. The nail pierced my own heart, imagining it going through His ravaged body. That nail bore my salvation. Woah. I stood in front of each piece, meditating upon it and asking for God's grace to flow out onto me. Boy did He deliver.
All of last week, God kept showing His love for me in different ways. Some stronger than others. In one particularly blessed experience, I literally felt His love surrounding me like a cocoon. Like a forcefield. It took my breath away! The Holy Spirit has infused me in a new way, and I'm discovering gifts that I never had before. I'm learning to give my heart totally to Him and let His love flow out from me.
He's also keeping Haiti alive in my heart while I'm here, which is something I was curious about. It seems like at almost every Mass so far the choir has sung songs that remind me of Haiti, or of mission work in general. I also discovered a billboard on the walk from the Kartause to the center of Gaming, that is a picture of a black woman crying amongst the rubble of some disaster with an ad for an Austrian humanitarian aid agency. I'm almost 100% positive it's a picture from Haiti after the earthquake. Our Lady of Perpetual Help, the patron saint of Haiti, is EVERYWHERE I look. There's even a picture of her in the "secret" chapel that I love to go pray in, which is up a narrow set of spiral stairs in one of the towers of the main chapel building. God is showing me that I'm not abandoning my love for Haiti by coming to Europe. I was feeling guilty, for coming here when no one there will ever have this opportunity. I could have spent all this money to help them instead. But God is good, and is giving me little signs every day to show me that I did not abandon them at all, because they are in my heart. And through the experiences He is going to give me here, I will be better able to go and serve them in the future according to His will.
It's crazy how He had to drag me all the way to Austria to show me how much He loves me. But we serve a crazy God :)
All glory to Him, now and forever!
It started a week ago, when we took a day trip to Vienna. The city is beautiful, but the most awe-inspiring moment for me was going into the National Treasury where all of the Hapsburg family's crown jewels are kept. No, I didn't start drooling over a tiara, although they were beautiful. My favorite part was tucked away in a corner, past all of the robes and jewels, where the family's personal collection of relics are kept. Since Vienna was the last capital of the Holy Roman Empire, and since the Hapsburg family was devoutly Catholic, they acquired the largest collection of relics in Europe outside of the Vatican. Shelves and shelves full of relics of saints in ornate frames and holders. Even a piece of Mary's mantle! But amongst these saints are relics of even more value. Relics that have literally touched the body of Jesus Christ, that are an essential part of His Passion and Death. A piece of the tablecloth used at the Last Supper. A thorn from the crown of thorns, slender yet deathly pointy. A piece of wood from the True Cross. One of the nails that pierced Jesus on the Cross. I would have cried if my body wasn't so frozen in wonder at seeing these things. The nail pierced my own heart, imagining it going through His ravaged body. That nail bore my salvation. Woah. I stood in front of each piece, meditating upon it and asking for God's grace to flow out onto me. Boy did He deliver.
All of last week, God kept showing His love for me in different ways. Some stronger than others. In one particularly blessed experience, I literally felt His love surrounding me like a cocoon. Like a forcefield. It took my breath away! The Holy Spirit has infused me in a new way, and I'm discovering gifts that I never had before. I'm learning to give my heart totally to Him and let His love flow out from me.
He's also keeping Haiti alive in my heart while I'm here, which is something I was curious about. It seems like at almost every Mass so far the choir has sung songs that remind me of Haiti, or of mission work in general. I also discovered a billboard on the walk from the Kartause to the center of Gaming, that is a picture of a black woman crying amongst the rubble of some disaster with an ad for an Austrian humanitarian aid agency. I'm almost 100% positive it's a picture from Haiti after the earthquake. Our Lady of Perpetual Help, the patron saint of Haiti, is EVERYWHERE I look. There's even a picture of her in the "secret" chapel that I love to go pray in, which is up a narrow set of spiral stairs in one of the towers of the main chapel building. God is showing me that I'm not abandoning my love for Haiti by coming to Europe. I was feeling guilty, for coming here when no one there will ever have this opportunity. I could have spent all this money to help them instead. But God is good, and is giving me little signs every day to show me that I did not abandon them at all, because they are in my heart. And through the experiences He is going to give me here, I will be better able to go and serve them in the future according to His will.
It's crazy how He had to drag me all the way to Austria to show me how much He loves me. But we serve a crazy God :)
All glory to Him, now and forever!
Friday, January 21, 2011
Culture
Culture. That's what I've been learning the last few days here in Gaming. As I'm starting to settle into my new home for the next 4 months, I've been learning some important lessons.. mostly the hard way.
Like, how the local grocery store doesn't put your stuff in bags to save the environment. So you need to bring your own bag, otherwise you and your friends will be walking back to the Kartause holding everything in your hands and pockets. Or, how Austrians (and Europeans in general) don't laugh or talk too loud out in public. If you do, you'll get looks. Especially if you're friends with Hispanics from New York ;)
The most beautiful lesson, however, is how seriously Europeans take the decorating of their churches. Even the local parish church in Gaming is covered in gold and huge murals and statues. It's breathtaking. Many churches in this area were built in the Baroque era, which focused on showing the glory of God in our human lives. These types of churches have the domed ceilings with all of the paintings and gold decoration, to give a foretaste of the glory of Heaven. I love it :)
At Mass at each of these churches we've been going to, it blows my mind when the priest consecrates the Eucharist. The same prayers, the same Jesus, the same words of consecration that I was hearing at that moment have been happening in those churches for the past 700 years. The continuity of the Catholic faith always amazes me, with wonder and gratitude.
After a few days of sightseeing, classes have now begun. This semester is going to be the best semester of classes I've ever taken. I'm taking 4 theology and a philosophy class, meaning I'm finally getting into the heart of my major and studying things that I actually want to study. All of the professors here are so passionate and devout. I have one from England and one from Scotland.. their accents make my day :)
Peace & Blessings
Like, how the local grocery store doesn't put your stuff in bags to save the environment. So you need to bring your own bag, otherwise you and your friends will be walking back to the Kartause holding everything in your hands and pockets. Or, how Austrians (and Europeans in general) don't laugh or talk too loud out in public. If you do, you'll get looks. Especially if you're friends with Hispanics from New York ;)
The most beautiful lesson, however, is how seriously Europeans take the decorating of their churches. Even the local parish church in Gaming is covered in gold and huge murals and statues. It's breathtaking. Many churches in this area were built in the Baroque era, which focused on showing the glory of God in our human lives. These types of churches have the domed ceilings with all of the paintings and gold decoration, to give a foretaste of the glory of Heaven. I love it :)
At Mass at each of these churches we've been going to, it blows my mind when the priest consecrates the Eucharist. The same prayers, the same Jesus, the same words of consecration that I was hearing at that moment have been happening in those churches for the past 700 years. The continuity of the Catholic faith always amazes me, with wonder and gratitude.
After a few days of sightseeing, classes have now begun. This semester is going to be the best semester of classes I've ever taken. I'm taking 4 theology and a philosophy class, meaning I'm finally getting into the heart of my major and studying things that I actually want to study. All of the professors here are so passionate and devout. I have one from England and one from Scotland.. their accents make my day :)
Peace & Blessings
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Größ Gott!
Größ Gott! (groos gott)
It means "Greetings with God" and is how everyone greets each other here in Austria. It's so perfect, because God has been greeting me everywhere since I got here. I can tell He wants to do some powerful things in my heart this semester, and I can't wait to see what they are! I pray that I can keep my heart open to receive them, rooted in silence and prayer.
I can't believe I'm finally here! Austria is absolutely beautiful. The mountain air is so clean and crisp, and there is rich green farmland everywhere (until the snow covers it again!) The Kartause, where we are staying, is much closer to the little town of Gaming than I thought it would be. It's only a five minute walk into the center of town!
The Kartause, and Austria in general, in such a perfect place for me to study and grow in silence, peace, and prayer. The Austrian people are very devoted to maintaining peace. They saw over 20 years of horrible fighting during the World Wars, including the Nazi regime. They are now a neutral country, and focus on trying to live out their lives in peace and harmony instead of destruction and violence. This atmosphere is present all over Austria, but especially at the Kartause.
There is a quiet yet powerful presence at the Kartause. It was built in the 1300s by one of the earliest Hapsburg emperors of Austria. Him and his wife built the complex as their imperial residence, building a Carthusian monastary attached to it. Kartause means Carthusian in German. The Hapsburg family was devoutly Catholic, as well as all of Austria, so it was only fitting that they would invite the strictest and most prayerful order of monks to live with them. The Carthusians live in complete silence except for communal prayer, praying for up to 9 hours a day. The holiness and grace of the monks' prayers still seep out of these walls, even though they have been gone from the Kartause since the late 1700s. The building fell into almost complete disarray, being occupied by Russian soldiers in the 1970s. The immense chapel was used as stable for their horses, and the present day classrooms as their barracks. It was completely renevated and restored in the late 1980s, thanks to God's grace, and is now used by Franciscan for their study abroad program.
It still blows my mind. I'm living in a place built by an emperor, who is buried with his wife under the chapel. I'm living in a monastary that housed some of the holiest monks of the Middle Ages and Englightenment period. I'm living in one of the oldest monastaries still standing in Europe, in what was the biggest Carthusian center in this region of Europe. These walls have seen centuries and centuries of history, and it gives me the chills. I am so beyond blessed to have this opportunity!
We got a chance to climb up a very tall, narrow spiral staircase in the chapel that looks like something right out of the Middle Ages! The original ceiling from the 1300s is very tall and pointy. A few centuries later they built a lower, domed ceiling that is what you see today. However, there is still a space in-between the top of the current ceiling and the original ceiling. We climbed all the way up the staircase (in the dark half of the time) to that space and got to walk across the top of the domes!! It was such an adventure. We got to walk around the main dome over the altar in-between the two walls, looking down into the chapel through the windows. There is graffiti up there from the 1800s up until the Russian occupation. We then climbed even higher and went in-between the top of the original ceiling and the wooden pitch of the roof. It was almost pitch dark, with the exception of a few flashlights and camera flashes. It was exhilirating! I felt like I went back in time the higher I got.
We've also gotten the chance to travel to the Marian shrine of Maria Taferl (dedicated to Our Lady of Sorrows) and the huge Benedictine monastary of Melk. Both of these are within an hour's drive of the Kartause. On our way to Maria Taferl in the morning, it was extremely foggy. As we drove higher and higher up the mountain, we climbed out and over the top of the fog. We literally were above the clouds. There was sunshine and bright blue sky waiting for us at the top where the church is. It's like what Our Lady of Sorrows does to our suffering- she is with us in the thick of the cloud and helps to raise us up to see the Light of her Son and give us hope and strength. Melk is at least twice as big as the Kartause, and its chapel looks like a glimpse of heaven. I've had so many prayerful experiences in the last 3 days, and can't wait to see what's next!
Keep praying for me.. I'm praying for all of you everywhere I go!
It means "Greetings with God" and is how everyone greets each other here in Austria. It's so perfect, because God has been greeting me everywhere since I got here. I can tell He wants to do some powerful things in my heart this semester, and I can't wait to see what they are! I pray that I can keep my heart open to receive them, rooted in silence and prayer.
I can't believe I'm finally here! Austria is absolutely beautiful. The mountain air is so clean and crisp, and there is rich green farmland everywhere (until the snow covers it again!) The Kartause, where we are staying, is much closer to the little town of Gaming than I thought it would be. It's only a five minute walk into the center of town!
The Kartause, and Austria in general, in such a perfect place for me to study and grow in silence, peace, and prayer. The Austrian people are very devoted to maintaining peace. They saw over 20 years of horrible fighting during the World Wars, including the Nazi regime. They are now a neutral country, and focus on trying to live out their lives in peace and harmony instead of destruction and violence. This atmosphere is present all over Austria, but especially at the Kartause.
There is a quiet yet powerful presence at the Kartause. It was built in the 1300s by one of the earliest Hapsburg emperors of Austria. Him and his wife built the complex as their imperial residence, building a Carthusian monastary attached to it. Kartause means Carthusian in German. The Hapsburg family was devoutly Catholic, as well as all of Austria, so it was only fitting that they would invite the strictest and most prayerful order of monks to live with them. The Carthusians live in complete silence except for communal prayer, praying for up to 9 hours a day. The holiness and grace of the monks' prayers still seep out of these walls, even though they have been gone from the Kartause since the late 1700s. The building fell into almost complete disarray, being occupied by Russian soldiers in the 1970s. The immense chapel was used as stable for their horses, and the present day classrooms as their barracks. It was completely renevated and restored in the late 1980s, thanks to God's grace, and is now used by Franciscan for their study abroad program.
It still blows my mind. I'm living in a place built by an emperor, who is buried with his wife under the chapel. I'm living in a monastary that housed some of the holiest monks of the Middle Ages and Englightenment period. I'm living in one of the oldest monastaries still standing in Europe, in what was the biggest Carthusian center in this region of Europe. These walls have seen centuries and centuries of history, and it gives me the chills. I am so beyond blessed to have this opportunity!
We got a chance to climb up a very tall, narrow spiral staircase in the chapel that looks like something right out of the Middle Ages! The original ceiling from the 1300s is very tall and pointy. A few centuries later they built a lower, domed ceiling that is what you see today. However, there is still a space in-between the top of the current ceiling and the original ceiling. We climbed all the way up the staircase (in the dark half of the time) to that space and got to walk across the top of the domes!! It was such an adventure. We got to walk around the main dome over the altar in-between the two walls, looking down into the chapel through the windows. There is graffiti up there from the 1800s up until the Russian occupation. We then climbed even higher and went in-between the top of the original ceiling and the wooden pitch of the roof. It was almost pitch dark, with the exception of a few flashlights and camera flashes. It was exhilirating! I felt like I went back in time the higher I got.
We've also gotten the chance to travel to the Marian shrine of Maria Taferl (dedicated to Our Lady of Sorrows) and the huge Benedictine monastary of Melk. Both of these are within an hour's drive of the Kartause. On our way to Maria Taferl in the morning, it was extremely foggy. As we drove higher and higher up the mountain, we climbed out and over the top of the fog. We literally were above the clouds. There was sunshine and bright blue sky waiting for us at the top where the church is. It's like what Our Lady of Sorrows does to our suffering- she is with us in the thick of the cloud and helps to raise us up to see the Light of her Son and give us hope and strength. Melk is at least twice as big as the Kartause, and its chapel looks like a glimpse of heaven. I've had so many prayerful experiences in the last 3 days, and can't wait to see what's next!
Keep praying for me.. I'm praying for all of you everywhere I go!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
A New Beginning
Well today's the day. I'm leaving for a semester in Austria. In Europe. Across the ocean. Praise Him! :) I still can't believe this day is finally here, and probably won't believe it until I'm actually there.
God has graced me with so much peace, healing, and love this break, I think to prepare my heart for the journey ahead of me. I have a feeling He's going to teach me so much that my heart is just going to burst at the seams :) This is a step in my journey, a path along the way.
I ask all of you to pray for me, for my safety as well as my spiritual growth in holiness. I'll post all my updates here, so you can come along with me on my adventures. I also created a website for my pictures- www.edunph23.shutterfly.com. Might be faster to upload than Facebook.
Ok.. as soon as I turn off this computer we're leaving for the airport. My stomach is full of butterflies- both of excitement and nervousness. But I have God in my heart and angels surrounding me, so what do I have to worry about? :)
Auf Wiedersehen!
(apparently that means goodbye.. I need to learn how to pronounce it! oh boy..)
God has graced me with so much peace, healing, and love this break, I think to prepare my heart for the journey ahead of me. I have a feeling He's going to teach me so much that my heart is just going to burst at the seams :) This is a step in my journey, a path along the way.
I ask all of you to pray for me, for my safety as well as my spiritual growth in holiness. I'll post all my updates here, so you can come along with me on my adventures. I also created a website for my pictures- www.edunph23.shutterfly.com. Might be faster to upload than Facebook.
Ok.. as soon as I turn off this computer we're leaving for the airport. My stomach is full of butterflies- both of excitement and nervousness. But I have God in my heart and angels surrounding me, so what do I have to worry about? :)
Auf Wiedersehen!
(apparently that means goodbye.. I need to learn how to pronounce it! oh boy..)
Thursday, January 13, 2011
One year since the quake.. and God gave me joy?
Today (well, technically yesterday since it's past midnight) was the 1 year anniversary of the massive earthquake in Haiti. How has it been a year already? The memories of that day are still etched into my mind like they happened yesterday.
I wasn't there. I didn't experience the fear of the ground shaking constantly for days. I didn't experience being trapped under a building or losing those close to me. I have no idea of the level of pain that they went through. So in a sense, I have no right to say that I suffered that day too. But I did, in my heart. I went through a martyrdom of the heart, as St. Therese loved to say. My heart was breaking because of the burning love God had placed there for the Haitians.
I spent that whole night and the next few days praying. Along with the Rosary, the Divine Mercy chaplet became a huge source of comfort. As I prayed it, I imagined Christ and Mama going down into the dark places in the rubble where people were dying, bringing their Light, and lifting the people up to Heaven. My heart physically hurt. It was a somber few weeks.
So today, I expected to return to that same sense of somber-ness out of respect for those who died and suffered both physically, emotionally, and spiritually. And I did feel some of that, but for the most part God gave me joy and beauty today. He's crazy sometimes. It started with waking up to almost 2 feet of snow outside. It was a beautiful, magical winter wonderland. The spakling of the sun off of the whiteness of the snow symbolized purity, innocence, and new beginnings to me. Perfect for Haiti.
Then I talked to Kendra, one of the missionaries living at the orphanage. She told me about her exciting morning, helping to deliver a healthy baby boy named Josef to one of the women in the village. I know her children very well, since they always come around the orphanage to play. The oldest brother has been my best buddy since the start, and with 3 younger sisters he was overjoyed to finally have a brother. My heart was jumping for joy for all of them, and again this sense of new life overcame me. What a gift to the village, on an otherwise sad day.
This joy stayed with me throughout the rest of the day, through conversations with other people dear to me as well. I prayed a Rosary around the time that the earthquake hit, and Mama filled me with peace and hope that she is watching over the Haitians. I pray that she will take in every orphaned child, everyone who is in despair and alone, under her mantle and show them her most tender love.
I think it was very fitting that the anniversary fell on a Wednesday, a day of fasting throughout the world but also the day of the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. These include the Resurrection, Ascension, Descent of the Holy Spirit, Assumption, and Coronation of the Blessed Mother in Heaven. The fruits of these mysteries are all full of hope, faith, grace, and peace. The actual earthquake fell on a Tuesday, during the Sorrowful Mysteries full of suffering. But today, today we can rejoice in the hope of Christ that Haiti will be resurrected just as He was and will come into the eternal glory of the Kingdom :)
Mari Manman Nou, priye pou Ayiti.
I wasn't there. I didn't experience the fear of the ground shaking constantly for days. I didn't experience being trapped under a building or losing those close to me. I have no idea of the level of pain that they went through. So in a sense, I have no right to say that I suffered that day too. But I did, in my heart. I went through a martyrdom of the heart, as St. Therese loved to say. My heart was breaking because of the burning love God had placed there for the Haitians.
I spent that whole night and the next few days praying. Along with the Rosary, the Divine Mercy chaplet became a huge source of comfort. As I prayed it, I imagined Christ and Mama going down into the dark places in the rubble where people were dying, bringing their Light, and lifting the people up to Heaven. My heart physically hurt. It was a somber few weeks.
So today, I expected to return to that same sense of somber-ness out of respect for those who died and suffered both physically, emotionally, and spiritually. And I did feel some of that, but for the most part God gave me joy and beauty today. He's crazy sometimes. It started with waking up to almost 2 feet of snow outside. It was a beautiful, magical winter wonderland. The spakling of the sun off of the whiteness of the snow symbolized purity, innocence, and new beginnings to me. Perfect for Haiti.
Then I talked to Kendra, one of the missionaries living at the orphanage. She told me about her exciting morning, helping to deliver a healthy baby boy named Josef to one of the women in the village. I know her children very well, since they always come around the orphanage to play. The oldest brother has been my best buddy since the start, and with 3 younger sisters he was overjoyed to finally have a brother. My heart was jumping for joy for all of them, and again this sense of new life overcame me. What a gift to the village, on an otherwise sad day.
This joy stayed with me throughout the rest of the day, through conversations with other people dear to me as well. I prayed a Rosary around the time that the earthquake hit, and Mama filled me with peace and hope that she is watching over the Haitians. I pray that she will take in every orphaned child, everyone who is in despair and alone, under her mantle and show them her most tender love.
I think it was very fitting that the anniversary fell on a Wednesday, a day of fasting throughout the world but also the day of the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. These include the Resurrection, Ascension, Descent of the Holy Spirit, Assumption, and Coronation of the Blessed Mother in Heaven. The fruits of these mysteries are all full of hope, faith, grace, and peace. The actual earthquake fell on a Tuesday, during the Sorrowful Mysteries full of suffering. But today, today we can rejoice in the hope of Christ that Haiti will be resurrected just as He was and will come into the eternal glory of the Kingdom :)
Mari Manman Nou, priye pou Ayiti.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Beauty Will Rise
If there was ever a perfect song for Haiti, I think this would be it. Or it would at least come close. I have to thank my amazing friend Kristina for showing this to me :)
Beauty Will Rise
(Steven Curtis Chapman)
It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything
came crashing down
Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
and sift through the ashes that are left
behind
But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams
we have this hope:
Oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Beauty Will Rise
(Steven Curtis Chapman)
It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything
came crashing down
Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
and sift through the ashes that are left
behind
But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams
we have this hope:
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning, beauty will rise
So take another breath for now,
and let the tears come washing down,
and if you can't believe I will believe
for you.
Cuz I have seen
the signs of spring!
Just watch and see:
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning...
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning, beauty will rise
So take another breath for now,
and let the tears come washing down,
and if you can't believe I will believe
for you.
Cuz I have seen
the signs of spring!
Just watch and see:
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning...
I can hear it in the distance
and it's not too far away.
It's the music and the laughter
of a wedding and a feast.
I can almost feel the hand of God
reaching for my face
to wipe the tears away, and say,
"It's time to make everything new."
"Make it all new"
This is our hope.
This is the promise.
This is our hope.
This is the promise.
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that's been made
out of the ashes...
out of the ashes...
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that He's made
out of the ashes...
out of the ashes...
and it's not too far away.
It's the music and the laughter
of a wedding and a feast.
I can almost feel the hand of God
reaching for my face
to wipe the tears away, and say,
"It's time to make everything new."
"Make it all new"
This is our hope.
This is the promise.
This is our hope.
This is the promise.
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that's been made
out of the ashes...
out of the ashes...
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that He's made
out of the ashes...
out of the ashes...
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of this darkness... new life will shine
and we'll know the joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning...beauty will rise!
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of this darkness... new life will shine
and we'll know the joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning...beauty will rise!
Oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, Beauty will rise
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Years (not) in Haiti
Last night I was supposed to be dancing on a roof in Haiti, with a kid in my arms and joy in my heart. I was supposed to ring in the new year not with the ball in NYC, but under the dazzling light of the stars that make heaven seem so close. I was supposed to wake up to the sound of goats and children squealing, giving the country hope that maybe this year will be better than the last.
But God had a different plan.
Instead, I enjoyed New Years Eve in the comfort of a heated home with some old friends, watching the ball drop on TV. We then took a walk in the morning down to the beach, soaking in the unusual warmth of the sunshine for a January morning and just enjoying the beauty around us. It was quiet. It was low-key. It wasn't Haiti. But God's plan is always perfect, and I have to thank Him for that.
I have no doubt that God at least called me to give my "yes" to this trip being planned. There were so many things stacked against it from the start- I would only have 10 days between my return from Haiti and the start of my semester in Austria, I would miss out on key time with my family before going to Europe for 4 months, and I would use money I could have saved for travelling. But I kept feeling this call to go- the purpose wasn't clear, but I knew I had to say yes.
Then came the cholera. Not just a few cases, but an epidemic. As it spread more and more throughout the island, the chances of our trip happening looked slim to none. Still, I retained a determination within me to go. My family didn't understand. How could I risk my health, my life, before embarking on one of the most exciting semesters of my life? How could I risk dying when I could simply go another time? How could I so boldly risk my life at all, when they loved me and couldn't stand losing me? They were tough questions. And I couldn't fully answer them. Was I just being selfish? I know part of me was. But the majority of me just wanted to serve Christ according to His will. And if that meant respectfully going against my family's wishes, then I trusted He would give me the strength to do it. To be caught between family and reckless abandonment to Christ is a tough line to balance. I'm still not completely sure of it. But I continued with my desire to go, and decided I would until Christ told me otherwise.
After a few weeks, the cholera situation seemed to be improving. Our trip was back on. The period of uncertainty proved to be a blessing to me, letting me re-evaluate my reasons for going and purifying my intentions. It also strengthened my prayer life and my attempts to fast, and helped me grow evermore in trust. I finally even felt some clarity on my purpose for going. I kept hearing the word rejoice over and over in my head. My purpose was to rejoice with the Haitians and help give them hope for a new year. Ok God, now I can go right? The wait is over? Wrong. The second week of December Haiti held a presidential election. There was widespread corruption in the polls, leading all hell to break loose in Port-Au-Prince in the forms of riots, burnings, road blocks, and just all-around violence.
Ok God, just another hiccup. We'll get through this. Obviously, the requests from family and friends not to go just about doubled. But I wasn't going to let them make my decision. I placed it all in the hands of God. It was up to Him. I wasn't going to let fear keep me from doing His will and serving His people. I continued with this sense of abandonment and trust up until the week before we were supposed to leave, when the final decision came to cancel the trip. Of course I was sad, but I also knew that it was the right decision.
I think that it was so perfect that the time leading up to this trip was during Advent. My discernment taught me trust, abandonment, and flexibility. These are all things that Mary and Joseph experienced during her pregnancy and the birth of Jesus- trust in God's plan, abandonment to His will, and flexibility when the plans all changed several times. A few years ago, those two weeks before the trip when I didn't know if we were going or not would have given me an ulcer. But I was so calm, so trusting, all thanks to grace. I didn't worry about it. I knew He would tell me in His time. This time of waiting, even though the answer might be disappointing, was very proper for Advent. So I am thankful.
I saw this in the January Magnificat and thought it was totally appropriate: "Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton's path took many unexpected turnings because she followed God's will rather than her own. What matters most is that the path God chose took her to Him." So while it was my will that I spend New Years rejoicing in Haiti, God took me on a curvy path to find His will. The path He chooses always leads us to Him.
So, Happy New Years everyone! May 2011 bring you untold graces and blessings that fill your heart with peace and joy. And let's all pray for Haiti, that they can find continued healing in 2011 from all of the destruction of 2010. May Mary, the Mother of God (whose feast day is today!) protect every nation under her loving mantle and lead us all closer to her Son in worship and adoration.
But God had a different plan.
Instead, I enjoyed New Years Eve in the comfort of a heated home with some old friends, watching the ball drop on TV. We then took a walk in the morning down to the beach, soaking in the unusual warmth of the sunshine for a January morning and just enjoying the beauty around us. It was quiet. It was low-key. It wasn't Haiti. But God's plan is always perfect, and I have to thank Him for that.
I have no doubt that God at least called me to give my "yes" to this trip being planned. There were so many things stacked against it from the start- I would only have 10 days between my return from Haiti and the start of my semester in Austria, I would miss out on key time with my family before going to Europe for 4 months, and I would use money I could have saved for travelling. But I kept feeling this call to go- the purpose wasn't clear, but I knew I had to say yes.
Then came the cholera. Not just a few cases, but an epidemic. As it spread more and more throughout the island, the chances of our trip happening looked slim to none. Still, I retained a determination within me to go. My family didn't understand. How could I risk my health, my life, before embarking on one of the most exciting semesters of my life? How could I risk dying when I could simply go another time? How could I so boldly risk my life at all, when they loved me and couldn't stand losing me? They were tough questions. And I couldn't fully answer them. Was I just being selfish? I know part of me was. But the majority of me just wanted to serve Christ according to His will. And if that meant respectfully going against my family's wishes, then I trusted He would give me the strength to do it. To be caught between family and reckless abandonment to Christ is a tough line to balance. I'm still not completely sure of it. But I continued with my desire to go, and decided I would until Christ told me otherwise.
After a few weeks, the cholera situation seemed to be improving. Our trip was back on. The period of uncertainty proved to be a blessing to me, letting me re-evaluate my reasons for going and purifying my intentions. It also strengthened my prayer life and my attempts to fast, and helped me grow evermore in trust. I finally even felt some clarity on my purpose for going. I kept hearing the word rejoice over and over in my head. My purpose was to rejoice with the Haitians and help give them hope for a new year. Ok God, now I can go right? The wait is over? Wrong. The second week of December Haiti held a presidential election. There was widespread corruption in the polls, leading all hell to break loose in Port-Au-Prince in the forms of riots, burnings, road blocks, and just all-around violence.
Ok God, just another hiccup. We'll get through this. Obviously, the requests from family and friends not to go just about doubled. But I wasn't going to let them make my decision. I placed it all in the hands of God. It was up to Him. I wasn't going to let fear keep me from doing His will and serving His people. I continued with this sense of abandonment and trust up until the week before we were supposed to leave, when the final decision came to cancel the trip. Of course I was sad, but I also knew that it was the right decision.
I think that it was so perfect that the time leading up to this trip was during Advent. My discernment taught me trust, abandonment, and flexibility. These are all things that Mary and Joseph experienced during her pregnancy and the birth of Jesus- trust in God's plan, abandonment to His will, and flexibility when the plans all changed several times. A few years ago, those two weeks before the trip when I didn't know if we were going or not would have given me an ulcer. But I was so calm, so trusting, all thanks to grace. I didn't worry about it. I knew He would tell me in His time. This time of waiting, even though the answer might be disappointing, was very proper for Advent. So I am thankful.
I saw this in the January Magnificat and thought it was totally appropriate: "Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton's path took many unexpected turnings because she followed God's will rather than her own. What matters most is that the path God chose took her to Him." So while it was my will that I spend New Years rejoicing in Haiti, God took me on a curvy path to find His will. The path He chooses always leads us to Him.
So, Happy New Years everyone! May 2011 bring you untold graces and blessings that fill your heart with peace and joy. And let's all pray for Haiti, that they can find continued healing in 2011 from all of the destruction of 2010. May Mary, the Mother of God (whose feast day is today!) protect every nation under her loving mantle and lead us all closer to her Son in worship and adoration.
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