At the close of a packed weekend at the National Catholic Youth Conference (NCYC) in Indianapolis, the question was posed to me: "What was your take-away from the event?" I do believe I truly received a valuable message from this energy-filled, yet exhausting experience. Although I was not prepared to articulate it at the time, I will attempt to share it here. Even though I am not a high school student, some of the words spoken to them "spoke" to me as well. A theme that I picked up from speakers was an echo of Pope Francis' thoughts, shared in the recent letter to youth Christus Vivit. It was a reminder of something I'm sure I knew already, but it touched me on a very personal level: I am invited to friendship with Christ. I am called, personally, to be His disciple. I might ask, what does this mean to me? There are several points we can take from this. Here are a few:
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For some reason, of late, I've found myself frequently mouthing a simple, ancient prayer:, found as far back as the book of Revelation: "Come, Lord Jesus!" As we approach the end of the liturgical year (and the Advent season thereafter), this prayer is especially appropriate. The gospel readings are reminding us that He will come again. However, I find that I am looking for His coming sooner than that - whenever that will be. I find myself whispering this petition toward Him, on occasion, during my daily work. He is so close! He's just down the hall in our chapel, and I pray, in my heart as well. I need His presence, His coming, on various levels. Sometimes, it is because I am feeling the need of a companion and friend. Other times, I am asking for guidance. Whatever the occasion, the prayer "Come, Lord Jesus" suffices. During this month of November, with added emphasis on prayer for those who have gone before us, I have also found myself thinking a bit more about what that day will be like when this life is ended. Having experienced the amazingly grace-filled death of my dad eleven months ago has made this pondering especially "close to home." It has increased my hope (and spurned me on to live accordingly). Praying "Come, Lord Jesus," can also serve to renew our hope for the day when He will ultimately come again and "wipe away every tear." I pray that He give me the grace, and stay with me, that I live in such a way as to welcome Him readily when the time comes.
This morning, after finishing Office in the chapel, I headed off to Mass, looking forward to a brisk walk. I've grown to love the combination of exercise and prayer (walking while praying the rosary, chaplet, etc., on the way to and from morning Mass).
Mentioning that it was only six above (with a six below wind chill), Sister Elaine asked me if I would be walking or riding. When I said I would walk, she left me with a parting instruction to "dress warm." This I did, wearing my new boots for the first time; my mom had given them to my on my recent home visit. (I'm grateful because my old ones have seen better days.) I also had some nice soft, fleece pants under my skirt, my heavy winter coat and a pair of gloves. I stopped back at the convent, too, and donned a scarf for good measure. Despite all of the above protective winter apparel, the wind still nipped my cheeks and nose (parts that are not protected by winter gear). I, nonetheless, enjoyed the walk. The new boots worked great; I had worn them to be safe, not knowing what the sidewalks and streets would be like. Things were fine, but it was nice to try out the new boots, anyway. Now, when the real winter comes, I will know that they fit nicely and help keep me warm. (Hopefully, we'll have a few warmer days before that happens.) I am grateful for an extra hour of light in the morning now that daylight savings time has ended, though I know that it won't last too long as the days continue to grow shorter. The second antiphon in this morning's Liturgy of the Hours spoke to me in an unusually powerful way. I was preparing to head back to Grand Forks after an eight-day home visit. As I faced the day, a bit of uncertainty dampened my spirits. Transitioning back into everyday life after time away can be a challenge; the problems left behind don't tend to disappear during one's absence. This verse of the Office, however, spoke comfort to my soul. I did not know what would await me on my return to "real life," but I did know Who would be with me every step of the way. I realized that, during this day, with its joys and challenges, I could "watch" for Christ's coming into my life. He would surely appear in the little events of the day ahead as I traveled. He would be with me, too, as I "picked up where I left off." Now, as I try to get odds and ends done (which still need attention), I am gratefully aware that He is with me still. I pray that I may be more watchful and aware of His wondrous comings in my everyday life. |
AuthorSr. Christina M. Neumann Archives
December 2019
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