Then, after the listening to the Word, we shared stories of our beloved dead – sisters who somehow encouraged us to follow Christ in monastic life. I listened. It’s not that I don’t have stories or a short-list of ammas without who I would not be in the monastery. I just needed to listen today – to drink in the love my sisters have for this life. Sometimes I come to prayer thirsty for the faith of others – in need of some grace that is eluding me – some way of seeing things that keeps me on the path. I heard such a story this morning. It was Sister Trinidad. She spoke with such love about several sisters I never knew – how they nurtured her vocation. One, she said, would bring her “sisters’ unfinished work” and she would try to learn the stitches and finish the piece. [First, I do not sew. I can do a button in a pinch, but that’s it. It took me a few seconds to get that we were talking about material – an altar cloth, a vestment, etc.] But once I got it I was stunned by the truth of what she was saying – how this sweet memory conveyed something of the essence of our monastic life. It is ours to finish what our sisters have left undone. From generation to generation, from Bavaria to Elk County, PA, from the great city of Richmond to Bristow – we take up where they left off. And one day when I die surrounded by my sisters, I know that the mission will continue – that good women will continue to seek God in this community through prayer and ministry. I don’t have to do it all. I don’t even have to understand how my part fits. I just have to trust that my life – my love – is needed here and God will do the rest.
