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!

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..)

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.

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:

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...

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...

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!

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

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.

Joyful Expectation

I think Advent is my newfound favorite time of year in the Church. Lent and Easter are powerful and very very important, but the peace and joy of waiting for the baby Jesus pulls at my heart in a special way.

This year was the first time that I really got the meaning of Advent, thanks to God's grace and my amazing theology classes. It's not just lighting candles on a wreath for a month before Christmas. It's a mindset that we should get into in order to joyfully wait in expectation for the birth of Christ. It's climbing into the shoes of Joseph and Mary and prayerfully experiencing what they experienced.

Mary and Joseph must have felt such a range of emotions during her pregnancy. First, awe. Of God and His plan, of being chosen to be such a huge part of that plan. I'm sure there was awe in their eyes too as they looked down on their newborn son in the manger. Then most likely fear, of wondering if they were really following God's plan and if they would be ok. Fear of physical harm to them and their unborn child. Fear of what the future would hold, of where their son would take them and of what he would be like. I'm sure they also experienced the sting of shame, for they were a bethrothed couple already pregnant. Villagers must have judged them and looked down upon them. This must have been especially painful for Mary, who was spotless and without sin, to be judged as unclean. But they probably clung onto hope and trust- that they were truly waiting for the birth of the Messiah who would save their people. They went through sacrifice on their long journey to Bethlehem, both physical and emotional. Then, finally, I'm sure they had peace. Everything lay quiet that first night in the manger, with the light of the star gleaming down on them and radiating from their son's face, with the angels singing peaceful songs of joy, and with Mary and Joseph looking down on their beautiful sleeping child with love.

Advent is a time for us to focus on some of these emotions. Trust- that we trust the plan God has for us even if we do not know what the future holds or if it does not make sense. Hope- that Christ will come as a bright star in the darkness of our own lives and humanity as a whole to lead us to salvation. Awe- at the sheer ridiculousness of the Incarnation, and how amazing and good our God is to actually become one of us in all things but sin. Peace comes from this silent adoration.

Oftentimes during this Advent, I imagined myself as Mary when she was pregnant. She knew the Savior was inside her, that she was giving life to his humanity. She must have experienced such a bond with Him, such a deep unity. I imagined her silent adoration of her son in her womb, and the peace and joy that comes from that. I then started to feel this same peace and joy, knowing that Jesus is within me too. Instead of in my womb, He's in my heart. I can sit and silently ponder Him just like Mary. Especially in the Eucharist, when He is actually physically present within me. What a gift.

I think that it's no wonder that Jesus came to us as a baby first. He could have just popped up on earth one day as a full grown man if He wanted to. But think about it- babies give unconditional love. They evoke such peace and joy in the hearts of everyone who sees them. Jesus is Love. So it would only make sense that He would become Love incarnate in a baby to show us His love for us.

My favorite moment on Christmas Eve is at night when I'm falling asleep. In my house we put electric candles in the windows during Advent, and from Christmas Eve all through Christmas Day we keep them on. This means that I get to fall asleep in my room on Christmas Eve without having to turn them off. They create such a warm glow in the room, standing out starkly against the black night behind them. As I'm falling asleep I'm filled with a sense of hope and peace. They remind me of Jesus, who came as a light to the world in the midst of its darkness.

It's so sad how everyone is so busy during the month leading up to Christmas with shopping and other preparations that this gift of peace is left unnoticed. This opportunity to ponder Christ and wait for Him with joyful expectation is available to all. But Satan loves to distract anyone and everyone from peace and silence. I think that's why the holidays is such a stressful time for everyone- the true meaning has been lost. We've become so distracted with the things of the world that we forget about why we have this holiday in the first place.

So let's pray to Our Lady of Joyful Expectation and her husband Joseph, that we can all rediscover the peace and joy of Advent in our hearts.

Peter and the Storm

One of my favorite discussions in my theology of healing class was about Matthew 14 when Jesus walks on water:

"And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, 'It is a ghost!' And they cried out for fear. But immediately he spoke to them saying, 'Take heart, it is I; have no fear.' And Peter answered him, 'Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.' He said, 'Come.' So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, 'Lord, save me.' Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, 'O you of little faith, why did you doubt?' And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God.'" Matthew 14: 25-33

This passage is packed with sooo many things. Yes, Jesus walks on water. Which is pretty friggin cool. But there's so much more to it than that. It can totally relate to the way that Jesus brings about healing in our lives, with the example of Peter.

Let's start at the beginning. Jesus came to them at the fourth watch of the night, which to the average fisherman of the time is known as the darkest time of night. He also came during a storm. Do I need the explain the metaphor of that one? There was a lot of unrest, a lot of fear.

Then the men in the boat see Jesus walking towards them on the water. You think they would have cried out in joy and relief. But nope, they get scared and think he's a ghost. This translates into our own failure to recognize Jesus during the worst of our storms in life. We are so consumed by the darkness, suffering, and fear that we don't see Jesus in all the ways He may be trying to help us. And if we do finally recognize Him, we may be even more fearful, because sometimes the suffering and sinfulness is less scary than the fear of the unknown. We don't know where Jesus will lead us when He comes to us.

Jesus is trying to tell us through this passage that He is there for us even during the fourth watch of our storms. He is not some distant God watching everything from heaven- He came to earth so that He could get messy, to go down with us into the bottom of our pits and meet us there. He wants to go down to the source of your pain, your sinfulness, and your wounds. He wants to be with you there in order to bring about healing. But we must recognize Him there first and allow Him in. This is sometimes the most challenging part.

This is the process that Peter goes through. He wants to go meet the Lord and embrace Him, and begins to walk out on the water. Everything is going fine until the storm gets worse, and Peter begins to be afraid. At this point he starts to sink and calls out to the Lord for help. How many times do we go through this in our own lives, when we think we're trusting in God until our storms get worse instead of better. Then we begin to sink, to be afriad, and to doubt in God's power. We question if He is hearing our prayers. But Peter needed this to happen to him. He needed to become completely helpless in order to fully surrender to the Lord and trust in Him. Once he calls out for help, Jesus immediately reaches out to him. Their bond is stronger now. Peter just went through the first steps of the ultimate healing, which is the re-establishment of our souls in union with God. Peter recognized his littleness and God's greatness, and accepted Jesus as Christ the Savior.

Then Jesus and Peter get into the boat together. The winds cease and there is worship, peace, and joy within the boat. Who knows if the storm actually calmed, or if the people in the boat just didn't notice it as much anymore. They weren't as affected by it anymore. When we finally let Jesus into every part of our heart, we allow Him into our boat. We let Him see our wounds and touch them at the bottom of our pits. We may still suffer, we may still go through storms, but we're now in it together with Jesus. We're not trying to do it alone. The storms blowing around us won't disturb us as much, because we have Jesus in our boat.

So don't begrudge Jesus for the storms. Maybe they needed to happen in order to ultimately bring about greater healing in your life. To help you grow in trust, love, and surrender. Always look for Jesus in the storms, because it is there that He is most present. Pray to St. Peter for his intercession, that he will help you bring Jesus into your boat.