09 September 2011

On Visiting the Dominicans

I had sent three religious communities a request to visit them and received a prompt reply from all three. I arranged to visit the Monastery of the Infant Jesus (Dominicans in Lufkin) in June of that year (2003); I would go to the Santa Fe Carmel and St. Benedict Monastery in Canyon in August.

Shortly before my Lufkin visit, I had a session with my therapist, S_. I told her of my impatience to have things "resolved"; that I feared the coming year at work was going to be very difficult, as it was already, what with not being able to go to Mass every day and having to focus so much of my time, energy, and thoughts on work—work that God gave me, yes, and I knew I should cheerfully do my best—but it was hard, when my heart and soul wanted to be somewhere else. I hadn't yet learned to do everything, no matter what it was, for the sake of God's glory, and so I felt torn in too many directions. S_ said that if I did get accepted to a monastery, then perhaps I could relax a bit and not feel so anxious. I would have something definite to look forward to, rather than wonder what my future held.

I also told her I'd been thinking a great deal about how I had gotten to that point, trying to see God's plan. I could now see that everything in my life did indeed happen for a reason; there was a pattern, a path. I saw the beginnings of my contemplative nature, the ever-present inclination toward reflection and solitude, as well as the deep need for the support of like souls. I saw God's hand in every step I took, every turn of my life, in decisions large and small, and in the things that just seemed to happen without my knowing the why or how of them. He had been there all along.

The following are excerpts from my journal written during my visit to Lufkin.

June 23, 2003, Lufkin.   My day began with an easy-paced morning of preparing for my visit to the Monastery of the Infant Jesus. I was a bit apprehensive about the kind of characters that travel by bus, until I saw among the people at the station an elderly sister in full black habit, who smiled in answer to my "Hello, Sister." I fgured it was a good omen.

The bus ride turned out to be quite entertaining, actually. Following L_'s advice, I sat at the front near the driver; behind me was a retired Viet Nam vet; across from him was an elderly lady with a Butterfly McQueen voice and Brillo-pad hair beneath a red knit hat. Both were regular bus travelers. The woman must know the names of everyone who has worked for the bus line in the past 20 years. She and the vet had a lively chat with the driver, a square-faced, rough-hewn, but amiable type with a crew cut and flinty eyes. He talked of everything from casinos to international relatons, tossing out his homespun philosophies in a voice fairly dripping with Good Ol' Boy syrup.

Upon arriving in Lufkin, I was met by a nice elderly couple who are friends of the sisters. It was just a short drive to the monastery. We pulled off narrow, tree-lined Lotus Lane into an even narrower private drive that wound through dense pines up to the visitors' parking lot in front of the main building. There I was greeted by the "outside" sister (they don't call it "extern" here), Sr. Mary Veronica, who showed me to the guest room which opens onto the front porch. We just stopped long enough to dispose of my suitcase, then Sister took me to one of the small visiting parlors, where I was to meet Sr. Mary William, the Vocations Directress. She was already there, smiling and standing with arms extended in welcome. There was no grille; just a low dividing wall between us. The Prioress, Sr. Mary Annunciata, came in a moment later and we sat for a get-to-know-you chat. I told them my history, a little about my family, and how I received my vocation. They put me very much at ease with their gentle smiles and soft voices, but I was a bit dazed -- it is rather an overwhelming experience, one's first interview with cloistered nuns. In fact, I felt dazed the rest of the day. Immediately after my interview we went in for Vespers. I sat in the public part of the chapel and just listened to the chanting and praying of the nuns. I couldn't see them, unless one of them came up to the sanctuary; the public section is perpendicular to the choir (the nuns' section), the two sections forming an L, with the sanctuary in the corner joining them. After Vespers I went back to my room to unpack, then Sr. Mary Veronica came to take me to the guest dining room for dinner -- salad, fried chicken, mystery beans, and homemade blueberry cobbler. Sister ate with me. She entered the monastery at the astonishingly young age of 16. After supper, I had another interview wih Sr. Mary William, then there was Compline and Benediction in chapel, after which was private prayer. I prayed a rather unfocused rosary. I hope tomorrow I will have gotten over this dazedness.

June 24, 2003.   Today I had another interview, this time with the Council, comprised of the Prioress, Sub-Prioress (Sr. Maria Guadalupe), Sr. Mary William, and four other solemnly professed sisters. It was a very lively chat, just to get acquainted, really. After Vespers, I met Fr. Michael Monshau -- the sisters are currently on their big annual retreat, and he's their retreat master this year. I introduced myself, and we sat down on the porch to talk. He was a tremendous help. One of the things he told me, after I said I'd heard about many other orders besides the three I'm interested in, is that at this point in my discernment it's probably not a good idea to overload on information; too confusing. The other thing he said, after I told him of my growing resentment of my job's deands, is that this time of conflict may be God's way of telling me it's time to make a decision.

But before making my decision, I still had to visit the Santa Fe Carmel and St. Benedict in Canyon. . . .

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