Former Catholics like me call ourselves “recovering,” current Catholics tag us as “fallen.”
It is also said, “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic.” There’s certainly an element of truth to this...especially as I begin the process of revisiting elements of my childhood religious upbringing.
My patient, Marnee, has planted a seed in my mind.
She is an alpha female, matriarch of her six children whose personalities and professions closely resemble the kids in my family. She’s one strong gal, and her faith is that of steel.
Unbendable.
I connect with her in a deep and meaningful way. I have life lessons to learn from her, and she has lessons on living independently from me. I am assisting her to rehabilitate home after a pelvic fracture, so we spend plenty of time together each day.
Almost 60 years ago, Marnee was a college-educated professional working in healthcare in San Francisco after WWII. She was in her early 30’s and unmarried.
Unusual for a lady in those days!
She was heavily considering a vocation as a Carmelite nun. She’s the only woman I have ever met other than my mother who considered the cloistered life of a Carmelites.
She tells me the story this week about a two-month period that changed her life.
She had verbalized her plan to join the Carmelite monastery when her mother encouraged her to do a 54-day novena before making a decision.
“God may have other plans for you, Marnee,” she said. “You’re either meant to be married or a nun. This will give you clarity.”
Marnee started a 54-day novena, which included reciting the rosary every day.
She smiles when she tells me the outcome. “On day 54, Tre, I met my husband. On the last day, the outcome was clear. It’s been a beautiful life.”
Marnee and I talk about her life, her six kids, and her vocation as a mother, church volunteer and hospice caregiver. We talk about my devotion to the Catholic life before living in a convent at the age of 19, my life of service as an occupational therapist and my love of working with the elderly. We talk about the fact that I am in my mid-forties and single. My children from a former marriage are in college in other states and living busy lives. I am on my own.
I am a joyful person. I am happy with my life as it is….though, I can be honest when I reveal to Marnee, “It would be a great gift if there was a companion in my life.”
She looks in my eyes and smiles. “I think you need to do the 54-day novena, Tre. You spend the first 27 days saying the rosary daily to ask for God’s Will to be evident to you. You spend the final 27 days thanking God for what He will bring. If you miss the rosary once, you have to start the 54 days all over again.”
“It sounds compelling, Marnee. I’m interested.” I'm not interested in "praying for a man;" I am interested in actively engaging with the Divine to determine the course of my life. I am open to His Will.
I tell Marnee goodbye and leave for a week’s vacation home to the Midwest to see family. During my 4-hour drive to the airport from the remote coastline village of my current travel assignment, Mother Mary subtly and regularly enters my thoughts.
When you live alone, it’s natural to start talking to yourself for company! (Though not all the time!) People may think it a bit crazy, but I answer her as I drive toward Sacramento.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”
As I drive in the dark, I attempt to unclasp a mini rosary that has been hanging unused on my rearview mirror for the past three years. It breaks into two pieces, and one falls on the passenger floor out of reach.
That’s my sign to concentrate on the road. “Thank you very much!” I tell her. I’ll have to start it later.
This morning, on my flight from Sacramento up to Portland, I take out my fat little notebook from my bag, click open the pen, and scribble dots for beads on a page. I’ve made a workable rosary on paper.
After each prayer, I mark an “x” through the scribbled bead.
I want to be present to what is happening in my head and my heart as I start this novena. The first thing I notice is that I’m rusty.
My six siblings and I spent our childhoods reciting the rosary every night during Lent, usually called to the dining room table by dad during our favorite TV program (to increase the sacrifice). When we were kids, our motivation was to get it over as quickly as possible, which was honed to a speedy 12 minutes.
Later, before my parting from the Church, while driving a one-hour commute to work and back, the rosary was a regular part of each day, a meditation that gave me peace and clarity.
Later, before my parting from the Church, while driving a one-hour commute to work and back, the rosary was a regular part of each day, a meditation that gave me peace and clarity.
I start the prayers, concentrating on visualizing the presence of the Virgin Mary as I ponder her prayer. Hail Mary, Full of Grace.
Grace. What we are all striving for.
Father, Son and Holy Spirit during the Glory Be. The image of lavender mist rising from the ground. This is my image of The Violet Fire, the Holy Spirit, transmuting everything into pure love. Pure ohm. The sound of the beginning of time.
My mind focuses past the flight attendant’s instructions as we start to taxi down the runway onto the repetition of the prayers.
I cross off each X.
I realize that I no longer remember the Mysteries. I remember that today is Saturday, and that it should be the Glorious Mystery.
I think.
I shall have to look that up. I want to remember it so I can walk the course of the Mystery as I recite these prayers.
Out spill other thoughts. Do I really have to be angry at the Church? Can I find the most positive aspects of the church and embrace them? Can I forgive the Church for not allowing me to engage in service equal to that of the male hierarchy? Could I create my own relationship with the Church that bears no resemblance to the childhood Catholic I was socialized to be? Can I return to Catholicism on my own terms? Do I even want to?
I have spent the past 14 years praising God in Baptist, Methodist, Christian Community churches and meditating in Buddhist temples. In each church, I am praising the exact same God.
I don’t know the answer to these questions yet. This is not a 50 yard dash. It is a 26 -mile marathon. I am only on day one.
Two things I am certain of, though:
One, I find by the end of the rosary, I am suddenly filled with peace.
Two, I do believe God’s Will shall be revealed.
Love Image: http://www.vine2victory.com/real-love/
This hits the nail on the head, not saying whether or not the nail can go in all the way straight or will need some adjusting. Perseverance is the name of this game of praying. Will be cheering on the side for you to
ReplyDeleteget your answer, and I don't think it will be a male.