Here in Ohio we haven't seen the sun in weeks. This morning , the second day of Christmas, it decided to appear in all of its glorious light. In this blast of light that shone through the windows during Mass, one could barely tell that the candles on the altar were lit, and the lights on the Christmas trees were almost imperceptible. In some ways it reminded me of our Christmas experience this year.

The day before Christmas, quite a few of us came down with the flu. I was one of them. We ended up cancelling our gift opening on Christmas Eve night and having it on Christmas afternoon instead. We were not able to carry out our annual Christmas visit to the nursing homes and hospitals - we didn't want to share our germs with those who were already suffering and sick.

It was a "different" kind of Christmas. You may think I would say "terrible" or "unfortunate," but what is a perfect Christmas anyway?

I would dare say that the more "unfortunate"  and imperfect our Christmas is, the more like the first Christmas it really is. And as a result … the more CAUSE TO CELEBRATE!

I wasn't able to eat; the sight and smells of the food was nauseating. I couldn't make a Holy Hour or stand up very long without feeling like I was going to pass out. I couldn't kneel in adoration in front of the newborn Christ in the manger.  I couldn't tell you what music was played at Mass or what the homily was about. All I wanted to do was lay my head down and this I did. I laid it down next to Jesus in the manger and let Mary and Joseph take care of me.

Think of that first Christmas. All Mary and Joseph had was Jesus. They did not have family present, but were surrounded by strangers. They were terribly uncomfortable. They may have been nauseated at the smell of the animals and manure.

If your Christmas had no lights, no trees, no family, no fancy meal, don't be tempted to think that you missed out.  You are privileged to share in the sentiments of that first Christmas where all they had was HIM who is THE LIGHT, THE FOOD, THE TREE OF LIFE.

And if you DO have a beautifully lit tree, an amazing meal, and plenty of gifts and these do not make you think of Him, it is an unfortunate Christmas: a Christmas lacking in every good thing.

For those who have spent Christmas in a hospital sick or at the side of suffering loved ones, in a battlefield or far away from loved ones, you may be tempted to say, "This is not how it should be". But those who have discovered Christ and His love in those moments of suffering I would daresay have had the most significant of Christmases.

For Christ has come to enter into our loneliness, our sickness, our suffering, and our brokenness. He does not make His home in the heart that does not know her need for Him, who isn't crying out from the depths of her being, "I need you Jesus!"

If you have had an imperfect Christmas, it is not too late to run to Him and let Him make a home in you. This is only the very beginning of the Christmas season.  Bunch up the straw of your sorrows and disappointments and let Him rest His little head there. Then you can rest your head upon Mary's lap, and under the protecting gaze of St. Joseph,  let yourself be flooded by the light of His love.

As the SUN's radiance outshines everything else, so the love of the infant Jesus, the SON, makes everything else fade away to nothingness.

-Sr. Thérèse Marie Iglesias, TOR
And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? Luke 1:43
I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Matthew 3:9

You come to me, all worn and tired from the road
And see in me a place where you may take some rest.
I wish I had a voice to tell you, “Turn away!”
This is no place for you to come who are so blest.

I’m formed of jagged stones.
My surfaces are cold,
Unwelcoming and hard –
I’ve been so long alone.

But you advance, your lamp shines on my shameful self
And mercilessly turns away the dark outside.
The light you hold, the light you bear – I know not which
Peels off the shadows under which I’ve liked to hide.

A disappointed glance
Is what I hoped to see
But peace is in your eyes
And joy make lamp-light dance.

I wonder now what you see here to make you smile.
Has something come and washed away all my disgrace?
But all is just as e’er it was within my frame –
Save now it’s lit by Mary’s gentle, radiant face.

Oh, virgin, mother, queen,
Please stay within my walls!
Oppressive was the dark
Before your light was seen.

I’m still a humble cave.
I’m not a cozy home.
But with you there is one
Who came for me to save.

I trust you both to make me bright,
To make me clean and new!
And may I radiate your love
And draw all hearts to you.

Amen.

-Sr.Agnes Therese Davis,TOR
There was no room in the Subaru.

It was jam-packed with groceries from Aldi: ginger ale for sick sisters, brown sugar for baking, and ice cream for the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe we would celebrate that night.

I had just put the key in the ignition and Sr. Isabelle Marie had walked away to return the carts when I saw them. A young Latino man in a grey hoodie and a beautiful young blonde woman in a puffy red coat approached, munching on pop-tarts they both held in their hands. I could see they had been walking toward the bus stop a few yards away from where I was parked, until they saw me.

Wearing a veil kind of gets you noticed. The young man moved toward me and gestured pleadingly.

I rolled down my window and asked if I could help them. He said he saw that my car was pretty full, but asked if we could give them a ride to their place down near Kroger, in another part of town. Otherwise they would have to wait in the cold for the next bus, which wouldn’t come for another hour or so.

By this time, Sr. Isabelle Marie was back to the car and agreed with me that we should help them out, since we were headed that direction anyway. As they helped us move the groceries around and make room for them in the back seat, we exchanged names. Josh said Britney was pregnant—about 20 weeks—and they didn’t know if It was a boy or a girl yet.

They squeezed into the back seat and we were off. They thanked us profusely and described their adventures that day. Britney had just rolled her ankle after coming out of the Dollar Tree, where they had been shopping. She said they had trouble with a grumpy bus driver earlier that day, and she teased Josh for not wearing a heavier coat in the freezing weather.

They said they had met some of our other sisters at our thrift store downtown, who were helping them get a blow-up bed for their house.

We didn’t say much—we just listened. By this time we were near their house. They told us where to stop and hopped out, thanking us again. We assured them of our prayers.


Sister and I reflected on their not-so-ordinary appearance to us on our way home. We knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. It was a great grace for the Lord to send us this Joseph and Mary to teach us to make room for God’s sometimes unexpected presence among us.

- Sr. Mary Gemma Harris, TOR
Sr. Sophia Grace as a young girl
 at a father-daughter dance
with her father
“Advent is the season of the secret, the secret of the growth of Christ, of Divine Love growing in silence.  It is the season of humility, silence, and growth.” - Caryll Houselander. 

Advent is a season of reflecting on Christ growing in the womb of Mary.  It is a time of great anticipation and active waiting, waiting to meet her Son.  It is a season that I will never experience in the same way again.

In November of 2012, a week before the beginning of Advent, my dad was diagnosed with a rare and very aggressive form of leukemia. 

Each day we waited. 

First it was to see if he would be able to start chemotherapy, then we waited to see what was going on inside of his body.  

Was the cancer dying?  We waited to see if his body would respond to the treatment.  

We waited for a miracle.  We waited…

In those 3 ½ weeks between the diagnosis and dad entering into eternal life he was never really able to talk, first because he was on a ventilator and then because of swelling in his throat.  

What was happening in the secret and silence of his heart?  Was the seed of Christ growing in him?  
It is a mystery that I will never know completely but trust with all my heart.  Dad, in his time of waiting, was experiencing his own Advent. 

Each day as I prayed with my dad I prayed that he would know the personal love of God, and in a specific way that he would know God as his loving Father.  As the weeks unfolded God allowed us glimpses of what I believe He was doing in my dad.  

My aunt was praying a rosary for him one morning and very clearly in her mind’s eye saw the words “Be patient my son”.  Then several days later on Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, three days before my dad passed away, they played a song at my aunt’s church with the words, “soon and very soon, we are going to see the King”.


To me these events were signs that Christ was indeed growing in my dad’s heart, showing him how to be a son and preparing him to meet his Father in heaven.  

In his last few minutes on earth I was able to encourage him that his heavenly Father awaited him with open arms and that God had been waiting so patiently for him to be ready. 

Then my dad gave us a little smile and went to the embrace of the Father. 
Martin Huschka
May 28, 1949-  December 19th, 2013
The reality show called “The Sisterhood” that is airing now on Lifetime is raising awareness that young women can and do go through a process of discovery, of discernment:  What is God’s plan for my life? 

The show follows five young women as they visit three different communities and try to discern if they are called to religious life.  The show strives to depict something real and authentic about religious life, which is a refreshing change from what has typically come from TV and movies in which sisters or nuns have often been little better than caricatures. 

It is wonderful that the world can see actual sisters living the religious life, going about their regular prayer, work and ministries and welcoming these young women (and through the show the whole world) into what they normally do.
           
It is not clear how much these women were told about their experience of being on this show or how they were or were not prepared for what they might encounter or experience.  These five young women almost seem to have been plucked out of their ordinary life with very little, if any, preparation or explanation.  If that was the case, that is where this reality show has failed to show reality.
            
Ordinarily, when a woman is thinking about the possibility of a call to the religious life, the journey begins with prayer.  

The idea of religious life may get triggered in her mind by any number of life experiences (ie. talking to a priest or sister, hearing a moving homily or retreat talk, reading a saint’s story, being taught by nuns in school, etc.).  She may also be asked by friends or total strangers if she has ever thought about religious life. 

If she has even the slightest inclination to think about it as a real possibility she is wise to go to prayer with the idea and talk to the One who can answer all her questions.
           
Very often, though not always, a woman will have a sense of call to the religious life through prayer even before she visits any convents.  This is where, I think, there is a difference in the way men and women typically discern their vocations. 

Men often need to go to visit, check things out, maybe even try it for a while in order to know whether they are called or not and where.  

Women, on the other hand—similar to what happens in the dating and courtship process—are typically more comfortable with letting the Lord pursue their hearts and possibly even propose to them before they go to check things out.  A woman might even keep secret and private the fact that she is discerning until she is more certain that she has or could have a true call to the religious life.

If a woman has never encountered religious sisters before in her life and yet senses she may have a call to a life of loving service in the Church, her journey may look different, because she may have to visit a convent just so she knows what she is discerning.  Yet very often, she will not have any inner clarity unless she brings her experience of the visit back to her private prayer where the Lord can speak to her heart in silence. 
            
While it is true that many vocational journeys involve struggles, letting go, wrestling with God, and joys and sorrows, most are not as packed with emotional drama as the journeys depicted on “The Sisterhood”.  

I pray that young women who feel the tug to discern God’s will for their lives will not be frightened by the dramatic experiences of Christie, Francesca, Claire, Eseni and Stacey.  Our God loves us and respects the readiness of each person each step of our journey.  

He is much more patient than producers of a TV show and He prepares us carefully and lovingly for each next step of our unique and beautiful journey.


-Sr. Mary Catherine Kasuboski, TOR
When I walked into the chapel this morning and several sisters were already in their seats,  I was certain that Mother Mary Ann had already chosen one of them to light the candles in the advent wreath. I admit that I was a little disappointed.  

So you can imagine my surprise when she walked up to me and handed me the lighter!  

I was filled with a childlike joy that I would get to light the candles for the second Sunday in a row!  

After the traditional prayers and the candles were lit, I returned to my seat and began to ask the question, "Why?  Why was I so excited to light all three candles? ".

As I gazed at the three flickering flames I recalled the first Sunday of Advent when I began reading daily reflections in A Child in Winter by Caryll Houselander with commentary by Thomas Hoffman.  I was invited to walk with Mary and “grow pregnant with God together” and “to grow large with the abundance of God’s favor”.

In my prayer I have been imagining Christ growing in me and all that goes along with expecting a child.  I trust that He is growing in me even though I don’t feel Him moving yet.  

What will it feel like when I recognize His stirrings?  What will He look like in my life?  What will His personality be? 

I take more times to rest and allow myself to be with Him in silence and prayer as He grows in me. 

BabyFruit TickerAt times I get impatient; I want to see Him now!  But no, I need to “wait patiently on his own timing of His growth” in me.  I don’t want Him to come prematurely. 

So, as I look at the three candles that are lit in the advent wreath I realize I am excited because I feel like I am looking at a pregnancy ticker that counts down the days until the due date.  

The time of His arrival is coming and soon it will be here! 

Rejoice!  Rejoice, Believers!  
_ Sr. Sophia Grace Huschka, TOR
The face of Our Lady of Guadalupe painted
by our own Sr. Della Marie

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH SHE LOVES YOU?

If you have never heard the beautiful words of Our Lady of Guadalupe to St. Juan Diego, get ready to be deeply moved! Grab some tissues!

Take some time to listen to her beautiful words put to music by one of our sisters. Click here:  Am I Not Here?

If you have an open heart, it is next to impossible to refuse her tender motherly plea to take refuge under her starry mantle.

LYRICS
Am I not here I who am your mother?
Are you not here in the crossing of my arms?
Are you not here in the folds of my mantle?
Oh little one, what have you to fear?
I am here.

 Am I not here, the fountain of your life?
Do not fear any anxiety or pain,
Are you not here under my shadow and protection?
What else could you want? 
Every need I shall provide
I hear your cry.

 I will hear your weeping and your sorrows
I am here to alleviate your fears
I am here, your compassionate mother
Listen to me, let it penetrate your heart
I am here.

 We'll meet you in the crossing of her arms, nestled under her starry mantle...



At this mid-point in Advent, an honest examination of our lives may reveal that the way of the Lord has not yet been sufficiently prepared – the paths of our hearts are still far from straight! 

It can be tempting to give up entirely, to say, “Lord, my life will never be good enough for You. My heart is not ready for You. Please stay away. I am ashamed to let You enter in and see me as I am.” 

It is in that moment that we must think about Bethlehem and take comfort. For Christ chose to come to earth at Bethlehem, where there was no room for Him in inns too preoccupied with other clients, rather than at Nazareth, where in Joseph’s house all had been made ready for His coming, all was clean and empty. 

Christ chose the loneliness and inconvenience of a friendless place to the warmth of a family home. 

He chose the bare, ugly, uncomfortable furnishings of a stable-cave to those lovingly crafted items back at Joseph’s house. And He did this to show His affinity for cramped, poor, uncomfortable places. 

So if our hearts are, despite our best efforts, often rather full of things and people other than Christ, if they seem shabby and inconvenient residences to offer the King of kings, we can take comfort and think that, perhaps, they remind Him of Bethlehem and the first glances his infant eyes stole of the world He had created. And we can ask his Mother and ours to rearrange our hearts, to make them cozier and more suitable for Christ’s coming, as she surely did that cave in Bethlehem.

-Sr. Agnes Therese Davis, T.O.R.

“…He might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in his kindness to us…”  (Eph. 2:7) [emphasis added]


Recently we had a guest stay with us from one of the great sunny states in the south.  Shortly after meeting her she shared with me that the last time she had seen snow was when she was 3 years old.  She really didn’t remember it at all and wanted to see it so badly. 

I shared with her that snow was in the forecast while she was staying with us and her face lit up with joy!  Unfortunately the forecast changed.   The snow got pushed back in the weekend and wasn’t supposed to start until Sunday evening, well after she would be on her way south. 

I sat in Holy Hour Sunday morning, the last day she was here, looking out of our windows at the grey clouds across the horizon and a prayer welled up from within me, “Lord, I know it’s not supposed to snow until tonight but you can make it snow whenever you like.  Could you please make it snow so that our guest can see it?”  

We finished Morning Prayer and I went on with my routine to open some window blinds to let in a little light into the house.  As I did I saw the tiniest and most delicate snowflakes I have ever seen, falling gently from the sky.  I practically ran down to the dining room where all of our guests had gathered in order to share the news!  To my surprise all of the windows in the dining room were still closed, so no one knew it was snowing! 

I took our guest by the arm, opened the door, and led her outside.

As she saw the snow she gasped in awe and delight and then stood there speechless.  As a tear slid down her face I slid back inside so she could spend this special moment alone, with just her and the Lord.

It continued snowing for about 20 minutes or so, the length of our breakfast, and then quit.  It didn’t snow the rest of the day.  The snow might have come to an end but the smile on our guest’s face remained throughout the day as she recalled the incredibly personal gift she had received. 

Sometimes the best gifts come in small packages, as in this case, in the smallest of snowflakes.  For me, this was a tangible, real life example of God’s inexhaustible generosity and His desire to shower us with His personal love!  Lord, thank you for the ways you see and fulfill what brings delight to our hearts.

-Sr. Sophia Grace Huschka  


Why would you want to read about the lives of women religious in a small town in Ohio? Aren’t veils and sandals, rosaries and kneelers things of the past?

No, Pope Francis tells us. We must “wake up the world!” 

Starting a blog in order to share our life with you has been a cherished hope of ours for a while, but it was spurred on recently due to the Year of Consecrated Life called for by our Holy Father.  In his Apostolic Letter opening the year, he wrote: “To tell our story is to praise God and to thank him for all his gifts.” We hope to do just that as we share our story in words and images.

We hope to post regularly about our daily life, ministries and experiences in community. We will also share the fruits of our prayer through reflections that you can also bring to the Lord in prayer. Sisters in various stages of formation will contribute, so you can get a taste of our life from the perspective of postulants, novices and professed sisters.

Our call as religious is to show the world that JESUS is the goal “towards which all things tend, the splendour before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart” (Vita Consecrata, 16).

We chose the title, “A Reply to Love,” because our whole life is a reply to Love; it is who we are. We have encountered a love so profound, so intimate, and so total in Jesus Christ that we cannot help giving everything to follow this Love.  St. John Paul II wrote that “those who let themselves be seized by this love cannot help abandoning everything to follow him” (VC 18).

Our prayer is that YOU will also encounter this LOVE that has seized us.

May you join us in making your own reply to Love.

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