What is Lay Consecrated Life?

Just checking in to update you on how the journey to Trinidad is going! A little over 6 months ago, I began fundraising to help with my student loans so that I could join Living Water Community as a consecrated woman. Thanks to generous sponsors, I have raised $37,665 towards my goal of paying off/covering as much of my $90,000 in student loan debt. This assistance will allow me to move to Trinidad to freely discern life as a lay consecrated missionary giving my life back to God.

So if you have been part of this process through prayer or financial assistance, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you! I keep you in my prayers daily.

So, all of that being said, what exactly does it mean to be a lay consecrated living in community with Living Water? It can sound a little confusing if you aren't familiar with the lingo, so here is a quick breakdown:

Living Water Community: A community formally recognized as a lay association of Christ Faithful
 that serves those in need throughout the Caribbean. The communities mission is "is to be in the world today a presence of God's unconditional love, mercy forgiveness healing and peace."*

Consecrated Woman - A lay person who is consecrated to serve Jesus and the Catholic Church community by living the evangelical counsels (poverty, celibate chastity and obedience).**
Household Member - "means sharing life with others in the Community where everything is shared in common and lived as family, and “called to live a way of life that will lead them to holiness of charity through the observance of the evangelical counsels..."**

Hopefully this breakdown gives a little insight into what, God willing, I will be doing with my life!

*Taken from the Living Water Community Statutes
** Taken from the Living Water Community website

Simplicity of Joy and the Beauty of Saying Goodbye

 I have learned that giving pieces of your heart away never limits how much you can love, but instead increases it. The pain that you feel is not heart break; it’s what happens when your heart is full.

I don’t often talk about my daily life for work, because for me it is rather … well, daily. But this week, as I refocused my energy, the uniqueness of what I do every day was unfurled. It’s not so much that caring for babies in Costa Rica is any different than taking care of children in the U.S., but more the perspective that I brought to the job. As I refocused myself, I realized two beautiful parts of my day that I hadn’t quite tapped into before – the simple things that bring forth joy and the beauty of hellos and goodbyes.

First things first – joy. It’s amazing what can spark joy in a little child. The instant I walk into work every day, I visit the halls to say hello to all the different kids. As Lauren and I walk in, the kids yell our names and run towards us. They are joyful that their playmates have come. As I feed the kids their lunch, they smile and giggle as I make silly noises. They are joyful just because someone is taking the time to give them attention. As their moms come to pick them up for merienda, lunch and to go home, I see the kid’s faces light up as the get hugged up by their mom. They are joyful because they have hugs and love. It doesn’t matter the situation – a toy, juice, a song – these kids are joyful. It is my favorite part about going to work every morning, is just the fact that every simple thing brings a smile to their faces. I think it is also a lesson we need to learn. Joy doesn’t have to be a complicated mess of making yourself joyful. It’s as easy as looking at some things with the eyes of a child. I’m learning slowly through my work at La Posada that by celebrating the little things – baby snuggles, hugs, jokes with the moms, community – as little rays of sunshine, joy comes so much easier.

This little girl is just full of joy! The two girls in the foreground are fighting, and she's all smiles!

Now, work isn’t always a joyful affair. Girls leave La Posada for a lot of different reasons. Sometimes they get in trouble and are asked to leave, sometimes they turn 18 and leave, sometimes they are able to return to their parents. Sometimes they run away and sometimes they know they are leaving for days. People keep telling me that after so many goodbyes you get used to it. I’m not sure that’s true. I love each of these kids and their moms with everything that I have to give them, as I try to with most people, which means that every time I say goodbye a little part of my heart goes with them. That being said, we said goodbye to one of the moms and two little girls that I’m truly fond of. It was in saying goodbye that I got to truly appreciate the time I spent with those girls. They will always be in my prayers and my heart, but I truly got to appreciate the gifts that they gave me.

And in saying goodbye, there is room for more girls at Posada.  It’s hard to say goodbye, but seeing that new girls get to come is beautiful. Posada offers something unique to the girls that isn’t offered in the other homes throughout Costa Rica. They offer a place for both the mothers and their children to grow in an environment that is directly oriented to their needs. As much as I might get frustrated with my work some days, it’s amazing to keep that in mind. While some occasions when the girls leave are less then desirable, there is always the silver lining of welcoming new people. It’s a lesson I’m learning over and over, the relationship that ends when saying goodbye opens up room for new life to be given. I’ve learned that giving pieces of your heart away never limits how much you can love, but instead increases it. The pain that you feel is not heart break; it’s what happens when your heart is full.

Saying goodbye to my two girls. Love, tears and hugs

Just Because They Are

dig·ni·ty/ˈdignitē/ -- the state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect

Today in Washington D.C., people from all over gather together to give voice to those whose very lives are threatened by abortion, euthanasia and the death penalty.  Even more importantly, they are marching for the recognition of something that cannot be taken away.

Dignity.

It is not something that is earned or that we as a human race can give. It is within each and every human being. Not because of who or why or how they are but just that they are. That they were created and given life. That the divine that is in you and I resides in every person. It doesn’t matter who they are – whether the person is a small but growing fetus or someone dying in a hospital or someone who committed an unthinkable crime. No matter the person, dignity is inherent. The March isn’t just about stopping something – it’s about recognizing why its worth stopping. Calling people to recognize this worth and come forth to defend it.

Though I’m not marching in D.C. this year, I march for life every day in Costa Rica. Hogar Posada de Belen (The Inn at Bethlehem) is a home for mothers, ages 13-18 years, and their children. It is a pro-life effort of the Episcopal Conference of Costa Rica to help aid mothers in choosing life. While the mothers live at the home, they also are given the opportunity to take classes, participate in extracurricular classes like dancing and music, as well as work experience like working in a restaurant or a beauty salon.

At work, we march for life every day. Like I said, dignity isn’t something you can give, but something that you can recognize and guard and that is what I feel we do with our niños. We honor their dignity by loving them with all we have to offer. Listening to their stories, telling them I love them every day (every few minutes really J ),  affirming the good they do and even correcting them when they misbehave are ways that we show them that they are worth time, effort and love. When they do something wrong and are being punished I tell them I love them but what they did was not okay, hoping that the kids learn that their worth does not lie in their actions but in just being.

But being pro-life is more than just ensuring that the baby makes it out of the womb or even just building up the children who are in these challenging situations. Limiting the pro-life to just abortion changes the entire ideology of the movement. Womb to tomb, conception to death, whatever catch phrase you’d like to use, being pro-life is about recognizing that inherent dignity in every person that you encounter – and helping to create a system that values that life as well.

 Here at Posada, the pro-life initiative doesn’t stop when the baby is born. The mothers are brought in and given the support they need so that they can leave La Posada with a way to care and provide for themselves and their children. One of the things that I love about working at La Posada is that these girls are not merely their story. While some of their stories are heart-wrenching and definitely difficult, they are so much more than that. They are loved and cared for. They are part of a community. They are listened to and given opportunities. They discover their own worth as they learn to take care of their child, they discover their gifts and talents, and as they learn to love and respect the girls they live with. I believe that we “march for life” as we sit with these girls and hear their stories, as we walk with them on their journey of motherhood and of growth. It doesn’t matter what decisions led them to walk through the door at La Posada, they are worth it. For me, this has become part of my mission – Helping the girls to realize that they are worth it. Worth a better future. Worth good and holy love. Worth waiting for. Worthy of being swept off their feet. Just because they were brought into being and created. Just because the God who resides in you and I resides in them. Just because they are.

The Reality of Falling in Love

The kids I work with are just like other kids I’ve worked with. They drive me crazy and at the same time, they warm my heart with one hug. They exhaust me, but somehow when I go home, I miss being climbed on. They need diaper changes CONSTANTLY and just like all kids, they throw temper tantrums and call me names like fea (ugly) and caca (poop) and sometimes things so much worse. They are truly like every other kid.

But then again, they are not. They are children of adolescent mothers. Today, I had lunch with a 15 year old who is the mother of two beautiful little boys.  Fifteen and having given birth twice! Can you imagine? I look around the cafeteria during lunch and it seems like a bunch of high school girls playing house … but they are not playing. This is their reality. Do you remember being fifteen? I do. I know that I was nowhere near selfless enough to be a mother. Science tells us that our brains are not fully developed until we are 25, and as a 23 year old who constantly makes ridiculous decisions, I stand as living proof that this is true. These women aren’t living together because they feel that community is a beautiful thing, but because they need this program to give them a chance with their children. My culture shock of the day was that these girls need this program, not only to flourish, but to simply keep their children in some cases.

Today, I saw a young woman – a 15 year old – lose the one place that she and her daughter might have had a chance. When we walked to the cafeteria and saw all the girls crying, of our friends told us that a girl had been having some trouble and was being sent home. My first thought was how are she and her daughter going to make it without the support and education they receive at Posada. It wasn’t until a little later that I found out her daughter, one of my “favorite” little girls with the big smile and cuddly personality, would not be going home with her mother but was being taken by social services. The decision this teenager made did not just have consequences, but it meant that her child was taken from her.

I know I’m pretty much reiterating the point over and over, but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around the weight that these girls have to bear. Now, I’m not taking the responsibility off her shoulders entirely, because she clearly made enough trouble that she was asked to leave. But honestly, who didn’t repeatedly make stupid decisions when they were a teenager. My heart goes out to these women in such a huge way. I cannot imagine holding the weight of someone else life on decisions I make. I hope and pray that someday I can be as courageous as them. I hope and pray that one day, if I’m called to be a mother, I look into the eyes of my child and all else falls away. I hope and pray that, just like I would do for these kids, I fall so far in love that nothing else in my life is the same.  

Life's Little Lessons

Here’s for the important stuff. You know, the reason you all helped me out? I’m hoping to share a little bit about my life here in Costa Rica, but most importantly the work that I will be doing. Instead of doing this in the biggest blog post ever, I’m going to introduce my life through the little lessons that I learned.

Life’s Little Lessons: Living in Another Country

1.  There are many different dialects in the Spanish language – Ten cuidad!! Watch out, because you can say something that you don’t mean to and it can be very bad. Here’s a pretty hilarious video that explains what I mean:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LjDe4sLER0&feature=youtu.be&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D4LjDe4sLER0&nomobile=1
2. It rains – a lot. I don’t just mean there are a lot of little showers. There are a lot of torrential downpours with big booming lighting. It’s beautiful and a little nerve-wracking at the same time. Running (or in my case attempting to run) up a street – that has many potholes –with ankle deep amounts of water while soaked is quite an adventure.
3.  Speaking of adventures – it is absolutely important to learn the bus schedule early. Standing 20 minutes in the rain after running up said street is not easier. Waiting for 45 minutes for a bus, that you think might be coming any time now, is pretty frustrating. Every single bus looks like yours … except for the one that you don’t flag down which is, in fact, your bus!
4. Don’t judge a book by its cover – I continuously learn this lesson. Our guardian Friar at first glance seems stern and a little intimidating. But then, we ate dinner with him and we realized he is HILARIOUS! We have such a great time. He also has the heart of a grandfather and is seriously making sure that we have more than we need and are taken care of.

Life’s Little Lessons: Mi Trabajo (My Work)
For those of you who do not know, I’m working at a home that serves around 100 teen mothers. These mothers are given the opportunity to work (they have a restaurant, a beauty salon and some other things they can help with) and have an education. Their children, ages 0-5, are live on the property with them and are together in daycare. I’ve only been there two days, but so far I have been helping take care of children who can walk (1.5 to 5 yrs). This is what I have learned:

1. Never say never – After changing my major from Education, I said I would never be a teacher. Well, I may be teaching music to the mothers who are forming a choir! I may be helping lead said choir. I may also be helping pick out instruments for the very same choir! How might you ask does this have anything to do with daycare, well …
2. Be careful what you PRAY for – I’ve always been worried that I wouldn’t keep up with my music and that there would always be better musicians than myself who could do a much better job. Well, I prayed that God would find a way to let me use my music. When we arrived at Posada de Belen, the VP asked myself and Lauren (the other volunteer), if any of us played guitar. I hesitatingly said that I played a little. Well, it then came out that I play a few different instruments and sing … and generally know about music. That ended with the VP saying that we were God’s answers to her needs and that she was going to use all that we had to offer. This could get interesting.
3. Learning patience is good, learning confidence is necessary, learning indifference to certain bodily fluids is a miracle. I never thought I’d be looking up Spanish phrases for “Is that pee?” “This child’s diaper leaked through his pants” “Stop putting your hands in your pants” “Stop climbing on the tables” “DO NOT CHOKE THE BABY!” and many, many more phrases. I also never thought that I would be wiping pee from children’s hands and feet as they played in the puddles of pee left over from another child during nap time.

My final little lesson for you:

• Love can be quantified – I’m not saying that when a kid says “I love you this much”, he or she only loves you as much as the space that they leave between their arms. What I’m saying is that love is so physically visible. It’s palpable. When you sit down and a little girl wants nothing more than to sit on your lap and watch the world. When someone is so dedicated to their call to serve others that they are so generous they leave me speechless. When, after a long day of doing everything wrong, you tell a little boy that you are so proud of him for sharing his book and doing something good that he smiles so big and then runs into your arms. That’s love. Tangible, breathable, over-the-top, love. 

Bienvenido a Costa Rica, FrancisCorps 15

“It’s OK if getting exactly what you worked and prayed and fought for — whatever it is — scares you like hell. It’s OK, but know this: there is a place inside you — this dynamic, living, breathing, transformation-in-progress that you are — where something constant can and does dwell. That constant is God.” – Caitlin Kim

Looking through my blog, I noted that I often start my posts by marking time that has passed. Partly because it gives a time frame for what’s happening in my life and it’s an easy lead. But also, because I feel like time passes so quickly and it’s often a whirlwind of activity that pushes me to post.  Well, it HAS been a whirlwind of activity since the last blog I posted, but I think I’m going to start this one off with a quote.

Right before graduation, a friend recommended this blog on transitions. I didn't quite take it seriously until I stumbled upon this quote – which I've been reflecting on ever since.  It is so appropriate to how I've felt these last two weeks.  I've been excited about the adventure that is coming my way. I've been a little sad because I've missed my family, friends and Trinidad so much. But mostly, I've been a little scared. I was blessed with a great vacation with my family to help me relax, but that didn't stop nerves from setting in as we pulled up to the house in Syracuse. It wasn't even the thought of moving away for a year. That hadn't really set in yet. It was the unknown of the community members that I was about to meet. Well, those fears were all for naught, because our community (both those in Syracuse and my community members in Costa Rica) are AMAZING! They are all such beautiful and supportive people. We spent a week getting to know each other – a couple days on retreat in New York and a few days at the Jersey shore. It was such a great time of fellowship, quotes and awkward accents.

Like I said, it took me most of that time to realize that I wasn’t staying in Syracuse to do my work. After working two days in the Food Pantry, it was really hard to believe that our community was splitting up and that I was leaving the country for a YEAR! It really hit me on the plane ride on Wednesday when I realized that when we landed, I was expected to speak Spanish. All. The. Time. Needless to say I was absolutely scared out of my wits. My stomach was in knots (that might have been because I left my Kindle on the plane and was freaking out) and my head was spinning trying to remember anything I’d ever learned in Spanish class. Well, all was well. We have enjoyed three meals with the Franciscan Friars that are sharing their space with us and even though I often get lost, they are patient and helpful and think my inability to speak Spanish is hilarious. Good example, the other night a Friar was sitting alone with the pizza and I asked “Por qué estas soltero?” which means “Why are you single?” NOT “Why are you alone?” He thought that was quite hilarious.

So, while the anxiety is fluctuating with every new experience, I’m coming to peace with the adventure of life here. Remembering that God is at the center of all this and I am sure that it is His will that I’m here and He will always remain faithful. Hope in transition. Anyway, I’m unpacked and settled in, although I’m still not sure I realize how long a year is despite how quick it might go. We are starting to talk about community life and expectations and all that jazz, so all is on the way. Our director will be here in a couple of hours to get our Costa Rican orientation started and we’ll move forward from there. I’ll update again soon and let you all know about my work site, but for now here are a few pictures of my new home.

Our house from a distance

La entrada al Convento
 (The entrance to the convent - we call this the tree of life)

Gorgeous bushes everywhere!

The view of the mounains from the chapel at the Friary. 

It's not "Goodbye", its "See you Later"

I’m sitting on my bed here in the house I’ve called home for the last two months in a situations that’s become all too familiar. Sitting on my bed, looking out at my things scattered around, wondering just how the heck I’m going to fit it all in my limited space … and even more importantly, how I’m going to get on that plane and say goodbye.

 In just a year and a half I’ve visited six different countries and graduated from UD. That’s a lot of hello and goodbyes. For the more significant visits, when I went to say goodbye, there was something that was holding me back from going forward. In Italy, it was a fear of what was coming my way and saying goodbye to the laid-back lifestyle I had into a time of personal discovery and development. In El Salvador, I felt the call to mission – to allow Christ to use me as His vessel to bring peace and love to the world. From UD, there was a fear of leaving what was familiar and settled for the unknown ahead but an excitement of all that my future held.

Preparing to leave Trinidad is no different in the fact that I don’t want to leave. That doesn’t mean I don’t love and miss my family, I do! But my heart isn’t ready to leave. Unlike the other goodbyes, I haven’t quite discerned out why it is so hard to leave a place that I’ve spent two months to go to a place where I’ve spent most of my 22 years. I think it will take some time away to figure out what hold this country and this community have on my heart, but there are plenty of reasons that come to mind. I’ll share snippets and hopefully I can catch some of you before I’m off to the next adventure and “home” to share more reflection.

God & Prayer: To say that God showed up seems woefully inadequate and inaccurate. He moves and makes Himself known on a daily basis in my life. To say that God showed off on this trip is a little more accurate, but it wasn’t because He performed miracles or because I had some extreme conversion of heart. It was in the quiet and slow way that He pervaded my days. Just some of the ways that our relationship changed:

• Praying the Liturgy of the Hours daily: This helped me delve into some of the scriptures that I might not have read on my own and to really enter into praying as (and for) community
• Anointing my day in prayer: truly the only reason I could wake up in the mornings and go do ministry J
• Quiet: this was a struggle for sure, but even the small amounts of time I was able to be quiet with God showed me how faithful God is and that I really need to stop doing prayer right
•  Laying of hands for Life in the Spirit: This was truly a confirmation of all the ways that God was speaking to me in the quiet that I was hesitant or questioning.

Community: Even though I never got to the post about the type of community I’ve been living with, I’ll share the joys of living in community. For the past two months, I’ve been living in community with consecrated lay women and one priest. They make promises to live chaste, simple and obedient lives while serving in their community. To read more about them, check out this site: http://www.lwctt.org/index.php/about-us. I have so much to say about each individual that I have met in this community, but I will leave it at this.

• They challenge and love. I felt challenged in some way every day of my trip here. It wasn’t always big, maybe a reflection on my prayer life or a conversation about how games affect our understanding of reality, but it was impactful.
• They loved and supported me every step of the way, and that love is reciprocated. I truly feel like this community has become my family and will miss them so much.
• Even more important than the love and challenge that community life presented, the Holy Spirit is moving here in a profound way. I have truly been walking among saints whose powerful love for Jesus is transforming the community and those they come in contact with. I’m constantly in awe of their faith.
• Fun: It wasn’t all depth and seriousness. This community is a hoot. I remember my first dinner with all of household, welcoming those who returned from their pilgrimage in Italy and wondering how I was ever going to finish my dinner. I spent most of the meal laughing.

Ministry: Since this post is already log enough, I’ll just let you know that ministry progressed well. I’m going to miss the kids and teens that I worked with here. It was extremely hard say goodbye to the ministries that I visited and participated in while here. I’ll be thinking and praying for them (and hopefully being kept updated on what is going on … hint, hint).

Well, that was fast and a lot, but I just have to say, I’m so thankful for this opportunity. If I had to choose one word to describe my time here, it would be TRANSFORMATION. I will not be going back the same way I came, and I definitely will not forget. I felt truly alive and authentic with this community and I pray that God was able to use me in some way during my time here. Thank you Sr. Angela Ann, Living Water Community and mom and dad for allowing me such an experience. Although I’m only home for a few weeks before I head off to Costa Rica, I hope to see as many of you all as I can.

As for my new Trini family, I love you and God willing, I’ll be back as soon as I can. (In the meantime, I’ll be studying Côté ci Côté la)

Love,

Cass

Taking on Mission Impossible

“There are so many problems, so many problems, there are difficult times, Jesus had many of His own! But always with that confidence: ‘The Lord has called me. The Lord is with me. The Lord has made me a promise'”

~Pope Francis, 6/25 Homily

This quote from Pope Francis’ Homily this morning is in reference to the fact that we are all called to be Christians. We didn’t accidently become a Christian, and we definitely didn’t just inherit this faith from our parents. We are each called one by one. But at the same time, Pope Francis is recognizing that this call is not easy. There are so many problems … difficult times … BUT yet we are called, the Lord is with us and the Lord is faithful. It is with this hope in the Lord that I write this post about my ministry experiences here in Trinidad.

For the past month, I have been working in a bunch of different ministries to get a small taste of what this community is up to. Let me tell you, they never stop going. Living Water Community supports various ministries throughout Trinidad, as well as missions on the other Caribbean islands. During the week, I spend mornings at Mercy Home (AIDS Hospice), Cancer Hospice, Ave Maria House (feeding the poor), working in the food bank and spending my morning with the children at the Halfway house. In the afternoons, I help with teen and children’s ministry, and I spend a few hours at the halfway house. We spend time working in the community coffee shop as well. Though it’s a busy schedule, it is padded with prayer and time in community.

To be honest, ministry can be hard. There are days that are long and tiring and I’m ready to go to bed right after night prayer (9:30). Those are the days that I pray when I get dropped off in the morning, I have enough energy to be positive, uplifting and loving to the people I’m with. There are days when it can be intimidating and when my prejudices really come out and I’m not sure if I’m cut out for ministry. I find this happens most often when I’m at Ave Maria house serving breakfast to the poor. It’s difficult for me to find the balance that is needed when talking with some of the men that come to Ave Maria. I want to hear their stories, but it’s not necessarily information that is offered up over breakfast. I also often find the halfway house difficult. Sometimes it’s because the children are driving me crazy, and other times it’s because I see that they are often aching for attention.

At the same time, I find that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Moments like this morning when I went to Mercy Home and sang the Divine Mercy chaplet with a patient and he kept nodding his head encouraging me to continue, even though he couldn't talk. Moments like when I walk into Hospice and sit with Granny as they are changing her dressings and we talk about everything from how much she loves Christmas to our common love for Country/Western music. Or, the day that I had six kids circled around me trying to plait my hair. Trust me, I didn’t love it because they did a really good job … my hair was actually a mess. I loved it because I saw the joy that it brought to their face. The fact that even on the hard days, I miss seeing the people that I get to work with. Those moments when I learn so much about how God gives joy to those who have the least. The ones that keep me from giving up on myself and what I feel God is calling me to.

So, as Pope Francis said, “There are many problems.” So many that sometimes it feels like I’m not doing anything to help, that there is too much to fight against. But it’s not really about working towards an end we expect to reach soon, but more about working towards the world we hope for. It’s moments like the ones I've mentioned above that I realize I’m called into ministry. Called to walk with people in their hurt, and that in those moments, God will strengthen me on my way. That, for me, is worth continuing on a journey, one that I was intentionally called to, even during the moments that it is overwhelming.