I am home, surprisingly exhaustion overwhelms, a disconnection. A woman from St Paul’s a former religious sister, made the comment leaving the religious life, reentering the world, everything seemed loud invasive, everything crowding in, too close and penetrating. I spoke with her and the parents of Sister Mary Joseph. Good people. After mass, Father Roger performed a healing service, anointing with oil. On Holy Thursday, he washed my feet. Now after retreat, he offers healing. It is good to be back under his care. Extern sisters inquired whether I could bring plenty of baklava from Aladdin’s for the open house on the 26th. Of course, I could. I am honored by the request. The Eucharist stands proud. Sitting in prayer before the monstrance that has sculpted its way into permanence, eternally affecting, I am home. Considerations present themselves, patience allowed, Thy Will be done. Sister Patricia, I will identify her as Sister from here on out–the hours we spent together were profound spiritual direction, applied a term fittingly, ‘hold it gently James, examine it, pray on it, yet above everything hold it gently’. The words refer to her identifying the fact I am an intense passionate individual. She praised the fact, yet warned it was detrimental, self-destroying if not tempered. I asked her if she had been talking to Dr. Nichta, many of the things she said advanced seamlessly with his sessions. ‘Hold it gently James, allow God to bring into existence solutions’. The situation troubling is my mother. There were many things causing concern regarding my visit Friday. I felt overall my retreat week was an immersion in female spirituality. On an advanced reflective level, identifying potentialities and realities, being a man was made evident within the surrounding of a mature aged feminine spirituality, formation of impressive womanly growth surrounding. It had nothing to do with physical beauty or sexual attraction. Real women of depth were provided. In silence they spoke, one providing guidance through words. My Holy Mother amidst, centering in prayer, and two lovely statues, was present. My natural mother was a part of everything. It made absolute sense I would break my retreat to visit with her. Her frailties and weaknesses were made glaring. Spiritually, she is crashing, practically she is struggling. She is not doing well alone. Mentally, she is chaotic, difficult to communicate with, making the impression of one broken, seriously spiritually out of tune. The mass was not a mass of intentions for my father. She had the wrong date. The mass for him was last Sunday. The mistake was not the concern. It was the resulting circumstances. It is evident Christ is not a part of my mother’s life. I feel a calling to take care of her, yet not sure it is God’s will. Speaking with Sister I was startled by my level of intent to take control of her life. Demanding daily mass attendance, the introduction of structure and socializing with spiritually mature people. Demanding she turn off the television set. She watches CNN and MSNBC continuously. It is the infliction of damnation. Putting aside opinions, left or right, a dualistic approach to life is spiritual suicide. I am convinced to become consumed with politics is to destroy one’s self. I was so impressed with the attending parishioners at OLMC. The church is where my mother should be centering herself. Sister told me to slow down. I did not slow down, expanding. Saying Sister it is done. I take care of my mother, three to five years, eliminating all debt and then I erect walls, slipping into the cloistered life. Trappist ways it will be onto death. I save my mother, and on into the monastery. Her response was James you are so passionate and intense. Establishing eye contact, effusing serenity, speaking soft caressing words, ‘Hold it gently James. Please be easy on yourself and your mother. You are so intense.’ God is good and giving. Counsel is a sweet consolation provided by the Holy Spirit, a gift. Final note. Departing, I broke silence with two of the sisters walking to my car. The sisters were all speaking freely this morning. The sister addressed pleasantly appealed with a thick Irish accent, making me think of Mother Catherine McAuley. Within the silence, individuals still emerged. We exchanged smiles throughout the week. She warned me a bit,stating I should be careful, informing me God is intently pursuing: God is coming strongly after you. I could only chuckle. Another closing note on the retreat. Parting hymn for mass last night was ‘Amazing Grace’. Commencing, one of the sisters turned to smile at me, as if saying it’s your song. As the words a wretch like me were verbalized, I admit, I scowled a bit, wondering what made the sister turn and focus upon me. It is seven forty-five and I lay down to sleep, after taking a nearly two hour nap today. It is a revelation to realize how exhausted I am contently preparing to reenter life. I reflect upon it alongside the incredible stress I felt the first day of mass at St Bernardine’s. I accomplished a lot during the retreat. Let’s see where God leads next.