A Double Rainbow

Well, it's a not a double rainbow exactly, but this is the time of year best for seeing the colorful reflection of our stained-glass windows in chapel. The sun needs to be out for the full display of this most wonderful sight, an increasingly-rare occasion as the winter months arrive. Saturday happened to be one of those days graced with light.

It never gets old.

The lovely weather also afforded us a perfect day for our first walk on the trail at Winter Green Gorge. It sort of feels like "the Wissahickon of Erie," as I have decided to call it. It made me feel like I was back in Philadelphia at my favorite spot in the city.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Celebrating the In-Between

Yesterday we celebrated an "in-between" moment of our community history as we marked the 50th anniversary of the Mount, the monastery where we live today. Fifty years ago the community moved from its inner-city motherhouse on East 9th Street seven miles east to Harborcreek. We can call that period an "in-between" time because the move occurred amidst Vatican II and the renewal of religious communities.

By entering into a new home, it called for renewal of customs and traditions that had been familiar to the sisters. This allowed the community to create a much more open way of life. Hearing the stories of this time gave me, yet again, a deeper appreciation for the sacrifices of our sisters to turn the Mount into the welcoming and loving monastery it is today. I especially appreciate the Sisters '66 show that was a fundraiser for the project.

Happy Birthday to our home!

It is also very much an "in-between" moment in the year as noted on a long, sunny walk yesterday afternoon.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Listen With the Ear of Your Heart

I was happy to come across a nice article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about some work being done in Philadelphia by some people I know. Can radical listening transform prison culture? The project is called Just Listening and works to bring listening hearts to places where those ears and hearts are greatly needed. Very good stuff.

This weekend I enjoyed a little getaway with a friend in State College—a welcome change of pace: lingering mornings, quiet evenings, quality conversation. A gift.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Glass work, Firebird by Etsuko Nishi in the Palmer Museum of Art at Penn State

Glass work, Elegance by Danny Perkins

The Harp by Augusta Savage (replica)

our own masterpiece, a fall feast!

a quirky pumpkin in the front yard

Preparing to Hibernate

Yes, even though we can still feel the warmth of our sun in the afternoon, we are definitely preparing for winter. The clocks have turned, and this weekend we put out the bird feeders—with even more locations this year—in the inner courtyard, too! We are hoping the birds will come to greet our sisters and bring some much needed winter cheer and light.

This year we’ve also “enhanced” our feeder collection! One cathedral-like home given us by another sister, as well as another caged feeder that advertises as “squirrel-proof!” Fingers crossed!

And even though it isn't officially winter, this poem always helps me as I linger in many layers through the cold months.

The Winter Wood Arrives
Mary Oliver

I think
     I could have
          built a little house
               to live in

with the single cord—
     half seasoned, half not—
          trucked into the
               driveway and

tumbled down. But, instead,
     friends came
          and together we stacked it
               for the long, cold days

that are—
     maybe the only sure thing in the world—
          coming soon.
               How to keep warm

is always a problem,
     isn’t it?
          Of course, there’s love.
               And there’s prayer.

I don’t belittle them,
     and they have warmed me,
          but differently,
               from the heart outwards.

Imagine
     what swirls of frost will cling
          to the windows, what white lawns
               I will look out on

as I rise from morning prayers,
     as I remember love, that leaves yet never leaves,
          as I go out into the yard
               and bring the wood in

with struggling steps,
     with struggling thoughts,
          bundle by bundle,
               to be burned.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

what I believe to be fothergilla