A Passerby’s Trail

When I look back at several years of convent life, I feel awe for all the small and great things God has done in my life.  He was always there in my thoughts, in my prayers, in my ministries.  He was also there in my anger, my pain, my fears.

I remember that everytime I had to do something, whether it was a prayer retreat I had to give to group of seminarians, a school play I had to create and direct, or an important report I had to submit to the superintendent — God was always there giving me an unending supply of energy, inspiration and creativity.  All the successes people thought that I had accomplished wasn’t really mine.  I knew I could have not done them in the absence of God’s grace.

God to me was someone who knew my every need even before I could consciously think or ask for it.  He was this constant living source of great abundance and power, and the more I’d let Him do His way, the more I was able to reach out to others and affect their lives. 

Inside the convent, I have seen miracles happen before my eyes.  I have watched hardened hearts change and  discover love.  I have seen people’s lives being healed.  And I have witnessed prayers that were not granted because they shouldn’t be.

I felt grateful and humbled that despite my sinfulness and human imperfections God was working through me. And I experienced my greatest consolation during those times when all I had was peace and quiet in front of the blessed tabernacle. 

I missed those days of long prayer and silence, of being in God’s holy presence, of being able to rest my mind, my heart, my soul, my body.  Since I left the convent, I’d look back to those times and say:  “Those were the good old holy days of privilege…”  Now, I can only afford to grab bits and pieces of time for silence and conversations with God. And I still hunger for contemplation and prayer. 

Click here to read the First Part.