I just returned from our annual six-day retreat at our provincial house in Hankinson, North Dakota.
Despite the fact that retreats are not always easy for me, I think it was, overall, a positive experience. (This actually fits well with what our constitutions refer to as “a wholesome unrest,” giving “us strength for constant renewal.”) One of the topics of the retreat was poverty, and not necessarily the material kind. The retreat-master spoke of our own interior poverty. I was able to better recognize some of my own “poverties” during these days of reflection. One of them, I guess, is that I am not able to sit still and quiet all day (during retreat). I need diversion. I found some of this by helping with dishes, helping a little in the kitchen (making rhubarb crisp and sauce), shelving some books in the library, and playing my heart out on the piano, not to mention occasional walks around the grounds. When I was not doing the above, though, you could probably find me in our little old/new chapel. It was the original chapel before a newer, larger one became necessary and was added sometime in the sixties. (In the past several years, the “old chapel” has been brought back to life.) I just love this little chapel. Now, the wall behind the sanctuary is painted to appear sky-like. I consider it to be a little piece of heaven, and love sitting in the front pew, as close as possible to the tabernacle, during times of retreat. Another aspect of the retreat, that had a heavenly beauty of its own, was the opportunity to have a daily Holy Hour of Adoration with my Sisters. Praying together in that small chapel was such a wonderful experience! This time of retreat also gave me more opportunity to process my grief at my dad’s death (six months ago tomorrow). I’ve wondered more in the past months what heaven is actually like for people. It’s different for me thinking about what reality is like, now, for someone I’ve known and loved all my life. I think that sitting there prayerfully, in that “heavenly” place, probably brought me closer to my dad and those others whom I hope are now enjoying that heavenly reality in its fullness. I hope they’re remembering me, too, and putting in a good word for me; I surely need it!
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AuthorSr. Christina M. Neumann Archives
December 2019
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