Tomorrow, a young woman is about to step into a plane, heading back to Bolivia. She'll return to the orphaned, abused, or abandoned girls she loves, to the little town of cows and cobblestone streets, to a language of indigenous vocabulary, to a city of snow-capped mountains, and to a climate of sweatshirts and scarves in mid-August.

Amber with some of the girls of
Hogar Maria Auxiliadora, July 2010

Her name is Amber (here is her blog). She arrived in Bolivia soon after I left and she's returning to spend yet another year there - her fourth year, to be exact. I don't know Amber extremely well. As I said before, we just missed each other when it comes to arrivals and departures. I met her when I came to visit a year after I left and we've communicated occasionally through Facebook, letters and Skype. But I know her well enough to admire her. Recently, during her time helping out with the orientation of the Salesian Lay Missioners this summer, we were able to have a conversation over Skype.


She said something that I immediately wrote down and knew that I had to write a blog entry about it.

"It's definitely a hard thing for people to understand. Mission work or religious life. We have extremely low and challenging moments, but it's something we freely choose anyway and then have the audacity to claim it's our source of joy and fulfillment. That's something that only God's wisdom can explain."

Mission life is not without its difficulties, and neither is religious life. Ask any missioner, ask any Sister, ask any priest or brother.

The mystery is that we stay. Not only that we stay, but that we choose to stay.
We, in religious life, stay despite the fact that the majority are older than us.
They, in mission life, stay despite the stress of new language, of new culture, and sometimes the stress of more work than can possibly be handled.

As everything within us begins to run away, it is God pulling our sleeve, and pulling us back to stay. And every time we encounter a difficulty - whether it be loneliness or overwork - if it is His will, He pulls us back even more.

The mystery is that as the pull becomes stronger, somehow we become happier. We find that He is not actually pulling us to stay, rather He is pulling us closer to Him. We find that it is in the life we live, frustrations and all, that we are most fulfilled. It is contradictory to those that don't understand. It may even seem contradictory to ourselves, yet we know this is what makes our soul come alive, this is what sets our hearts on fire and, most importantly, this is where we most experience God...despite the times we feel lonely, despite the times we yearn for a little time to ourselves, despite the times we are frustrated with our work, despite the misunderstandings, despite the times we look at our suitcases and wonder.

Amber is right. Only God's wisdom can explain it. But it is vocation - it is that same pull that led Moses to keep going on the way to the Promised Land, that led Joseph to stay with Mary despite her pregnancy, that led Simon Peter to not run away during Jesus' trial (despite the denials), that led Paul to continue his work despite the persecutions. It is a pull that has spanned the centuries...yet also a pull that is unique to each and every one of us.

Joy....

On a warm feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe feast day, I walked into the Divino Niño convent, dragging a large suitcase, now an aspirant. Soon after Christmas, I would don the blue pleated jumper, white blouse and navy vest/sweater. Six months later, I would walk out of the Divino Niño convent, dragging that same suitcase but in the opposite direction, now dressed back in my T-shirt and sweatpants. Following me were Sisters and my companions in formation, who loved me so much, despite my decision to leave, to send me off at the airport.

Hermana Paula, me and Sr Mary Elko, an
American Daughter of Charity I met during
aspirancy

It's been four years since that Guadalupe feast day when I entered that community. After waking up this Sunday after a very late Mañanitas dedicated to the Virgin of Guadalupe, I thought of those Sisters, that community.

It gave me an immense joy for two possibly contradicting reasons. It gave me joy to think of them, Sisters I love very much, some of whom I regard as my closest friends. That morning, I was also able to coincidentally talk with Hermana Delia, one of those close friends. Just a year older than me, we've had many adventures, laughed a lot, cried together and now she is in El Salvador, preparing for her perpetual vows.

But it also gave me great joy to reflect on how I've truly found a home with the Daughters of Charity. While these Sisters aren't as young as I am, they are an amazing group of wonderful women. I've fallen in love with their spirituality, the Founders speak to me, their service and ministry is inspiring and I have the complete freedom to be myself.

God gives us joy in different ways. As someone 'in waiting' so to speak, it was wonderful to wake up with this joy sent by Him and to rejoice at His presence in my life. It was Gaudete Sunday, after all.

Little Laura Vicuña and the Injustice Against Our Saints

I don't remember what possessed me to Google information about Blessed Laura Vicuña a few days ago, but what I found shocked me. They have recently discovered a photograph of her. A photograph. As in what she actually looked like. Not some European painting of her, based on what one person said she looked like or really based on little at all. (St. Therese, for example, we do have a few photographs of her but little paintings of her actually looks like her. How does this look like this?! It always bugs me)

The photo next to an old painting
of her. From the article
"The Real Features of Laura Vicuña"

Laura Vicuña, in her actuality, really struck me. Because she reminded me of the girls I worked with in Bolivia. Her facial features are even similar - after all, Chile is Bolivia's neighbor. For me, while it's true Laura doesn't look happy in the picture, I can see the pain in her eyes - the pain of being abused, the pain of being regretted by the Sisters she loved because her mother lived with a man she wasn't married to (though, at the time of this photo, I don't think that had happened yet). Laura is a Salesian blessed, whose story I have conflicting feelings about, but one whose name was so important for those years I worked with the Salesians. I even lived in the Dormitorio Laura Vicuña.

The discovery of her photograph got me thinking about my unhappiness with depiction of saints. After all, the European painting of Laura Vicuña on the right looks little like what she actually looked like. I especially thought of those most important to me now - Vincentian saints. To my knowledge, we have no photographs of any Vincentian saints, besides the Daughters of Charity Blessed Lindalva Justo de Oliveira and maybe Blessed Giuseppina Nicoli (I can't tell if that's a photo or painting) In our defense though, some of our most important saints lived before the invention of the camera.

But, nevertheless, we need better depictions of our saints. St Elizabeth Ann Seton, for one, is always so serious and emotionless in any depiction of her. St Louise is always so plain. St Vincent can even be depicted as mean sometimes. In any depiction of St Catherine Laboure, you would think that all she did was pray all day, instead of working with the poor while spreading the Miraculous Medal around the world. And there are more Vincentian saints, whose depictions as boring and serious, don't correspond at all with their amazing story.

These saints deserve better artists to paint/draw them. If you're out there, artists, I beg you, even if there's no photograph of them like that of Laura Vicuña, please give justice to our great saints!

The Daughters of Charity & the Salesians of Don Bosco...Connected?

So I know what you're thinking..."what do these Sisters and these priests have to do your formation with the Daughters of Charity"? Or, even more realistically, you're thinking "who the heck are the Salesians?"

Like the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity, the priests were founded first. Don Bosco founded them under the name "Society of St. Francis de Sales". St. John Bosco founded them in 1859 to care for children and youth in nineteenth century Italy. They quickly spread around the world. A few years after founding the priests, Don Bosco met St. Mary Mazzarello, who encouraged him to found a womens' religious order under the same charism. (After all, behind every great male saint, there's a great female saint!) Together, they founded the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians (FMAs) and those Sisters also quickly spread around the world. Eventually, the Salesian family grew as more religious congregations and lay groups were founded. Today, there are about 28 groups that count themselves among the Salesian family! Strangely enough, you could substitute "Don Bosco" with "St. Vincent de Paul" and "Mary Mazzarello" with "St. Louise" and you'd get almost the same story!

Anyway, there seems to be no connection between the Daughters of Charity and the Salesians, right? Founded in a different country, founded in a different era, founded with a more specific mission in mind, etc. The only real connection is that Don Bosco founded it based on the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, who was actually a buddy of St. Vincent de Paul and someone St. Louise de Marillac deeply admired. Other than that, I got nada.

St Mary Mazzarello, founder
of the FMAs

So why am I writing about this? Well, after college, I was a volunteer in Bolivia with the VIDES program, a long-term volunteer program with the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians and I worked alongside members of the Salesian Lay Missioners (both are programs I would HIGHLY recommend) as well as the Salesian congregation I would end up joining. The Salesians play a huge part in my vocation story. Like, probably more than I give them credit for.

Because of them, I was able to see the beauty of religious life. During my orientation with VIDES in New Jersey, hanging out with the FMAs "woke me up" again to the idea of being called to religious life. I've had many "wake up calls" throughout my vocation story and another one is when I was spending time with my old community (Salesian, but not the FMAs) this past summer.

Because of the Salesians, I saw the joy there is in serving others, particularly children and youth. It can be a frustrating job but all the Salesian Sisters and priests I've met take it all in stride - they keep on smiling and keep being joyful, despite it all. They love children and youth and have a dedication to them that I had never seen before. Despite how exhausted they may be, you'll find them jump-roping or playing baseball right along with the kids. They are one of the many people in my life that showed me the definition of service.

And of course, there's always divine intervention. When Don Bosco's relics were making their world-wide tour almost a year ago, I went to visit them in New York. In front of him, in St. Patrick's cathedral, I prayed "St. John Bosco, I know I'm not called to be a Salesian...yeah, sorry about that, but hey, that's God's fault, not mine. But please help me find my vocation. Pray that I may find the way." And well, you know the rest of the story.

If you're interested particularly in serving children and youth, either as a lay person or a religious, I suggest checking them out. I wasn't called to be a religious with them for many different reasons but they really are great people and I don't regret for a minute being a Salesian long-term lay volunteer.

If you're already a religious (Sister, priest, or brother!), is there a religious community besides your own that influenced you in your vocation story?