Caroline - The Top 5 Lessons I Learned from My Journey Through Consecrated Life
At the age of 17 I left home and flew almost 10,000 miles away. I carried a huge load of love for Jesus in my heart and dreams of changing the world. Yup, you heard me, 17. In New Zealand we start school at the age of five and my parents started me a little early (at age four) because of an upcoming family trip overseas. That meant I finished school having turned 17 just four months earlier. So a month after finishing high school I jumped on a plane and headed across the world to give one year as a missionary, which turned into two. A few months after that I ended up making promises of poverty, chastity and obedience. For life.
Fast-forward 12 years when I find myself in bumper to bumper traffic on Mexico City’s Periferico highway. I had seen so clearly by now that I was not meant to be here, not just in this country, but in this vocation. My mother lay in a hospital, dying, halfway across the world. And yet those who were guiding me were encouraging me to “slow down” in this discernment. I had received waterfalls of clarity and insight about my life’s trajectory in a very short time. As in like, a few weeks. A prayer of desperation went up from my heart, “Lord, please help me. Why are you allowing this? Please can you just help speed up this process? I don’t see why I need to stay any longer now that I see it all so clearly…and I’m so worried about my Mum”. A gentle whisper spoke to my heart,
“Caroline, do you think I would let you come this far, just to let you go without healing you?”
God did an about turn on my perspective with those few words. Wow, I really hadn’t thought of that. Surrounded by Mexicans and potholes, I began to weep at the scope of God’s mercy that was so far beyond my comprehension. This was not about my vocation, this was about his love for me, and it always had been.
That said, it might sound funny or exaggerated to some, but I have not for a single moment lamented the 12 years I spent as a consecrated woman even though it meant I had a lot of catching up to do (and at 35 years old, I am still figuring a lot of stuff out...). I think the main reason for this is that I have always tried to love Jesus and comprehend his messages through whatever circumstances he has allowed for my life.
So here are my top 5 spiritual takeaways from the 12 year journey Jesus permitted me to walk through consecrated life.
1. You must always be the guardian of your own peace
It was September 2009. I had just finished four years studying inside a Formation Center for Consecrated Women in Rhode Island (see convent). The previous January we had begun to find out some of the truth about our Founder’s life (if you don’t know what I am talking about, just google Fr Marcial Maciel…you’ll find plenty). In a nutshell, our world was on fire...I arrived at my new community for my first full time ministry assignment in August. By September seven of the eight women who made up the community in June, were gone. I was far from secure - petrified might be a good word for how I felt beginning my mission as a member of this now disgraced organisation. Regnum Christi lay people were hurt and angry. And the encouraging words spoken to us by our directors didn’t work for them. One of the Regnum Christi Women in D.C. greeted me for the first time with “So you’re one of the replacements?” Ouch. It was tough. As I tried to navigate the waters, I realised that I had enough of my own anxiety and I simply didn’t have enough spiritual or emotional reserve to take on all the stress of others around me. I felt like I was drowning. I sensed that my heart was in danger. I was driving along one day reflecting on all this and felt struck by this thought, “You have to be the guardian of your own peace, no one else will do this for you”. I realised I needed to put a healthy wall around my heart and decide carefully who and what was going to come in and out if I wanted my faith and spiritual life to remain intact. And that this was no one else’s responsibility but my own.
2. Discover your conditionings
We had just finished our annual eight-day silent retreat. I walked into the dining room late one evening and joined my community who were seated together for dinner. I slipped into an empty seat just in time to hear someone say the word, ‘conditionings’. For some reason my ears pricked up and I felt a strong sense that I was meant to listen hard. “What are conditionings?” I asked. “They are anything that we hold inside us that prevent us from experiencing God’s love and giving it to others”. All of a sudden light bulbs flicked on inside my head. I’m sure there are many ways of describing this same idea, but for me that word, ‘conditionings’, suddenly seemed to hold so much meaning. I realised my perfectionism was a form of control, a conditioning on God’s freedom to act in my life. Limiting beliefs were conditionings for me; mental barriers which prevented the truths of the Good News to really penetrate and transform my heart. The ways I adapted myself to please others for the emotional security their acceptance gave me, was yet another conditioning. All these things were obstacles to allowing God fully into my life and to give him the space to speak, act and lead me to true interior peace and freedom. It is painful, but if we ask Him, God will reveal the conditionings that prevent our growth, joy and freedom of living fully in His love.
3. Wherever you go, there God is
It was about four years into my six year assignment in Washington D.C.
I had done everything I could think of, but I was struggling mentally and emotionally with ongoing challenges in my community and ministry. It felt like something had to give, either the circumstances had to change or my own well-being – and nothing around me was changing fast. How was I supposed to know when the line was crossed between something God was allowing for my spiritual growth and when it was time to take initiative with my God-given intellect and free will and remove myself from a life-depleting situation? I was wrestling with all this each day in prayer and eventually shared my struggle in confession. The priest listened kindly, encouraged me in my discernment, and simply left me with the penance of praying Psalm 139.
“You have searched me Lord and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
You perceive my thoughts from afar…
You are familiar with all my ways…
You hem me in behind and before,
And you lay your hand upon me…
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?”
The psalm continues beautifully in this way. As I prayed these words, I felt God speaking to my heart through the words of Sacred Scripture. He was gently showing me that I was indeed free to ask for a change of community and change of mission, if that is what I felt I needed. But also that - once the dust settled in the new place - He would be waiting there for me, we would pick back up where we left off and He would continue the work of transforming my heart. And if I stayed where I was, it would be difficult, but perhaps the spiritual ‘lessons’ would be learned more quickly. It was also painful realisation, if I was serious about this following Jesus thing, then it made sense. There were things I had to learn, but God was giving me the freedom to set the pace. I stayed. Who knows, maybe that is why I ended up experiencing the amazing healing discernment journey when and how I did.
4. God is always aiming at your heart
This was a phrase that a wonderful priest used to say when he preached to us. It remained with me, and often came to mind in the most difficult moments. It still does. Whatever I am struggling with; people in my life that I don’t want to be there, circumstances I can’t change, health situations that don’t seem fair, or just my own anxiety and frustration - whenever I remember this, it always brings calm and flips my perspective on its head.
Here’s why: because when shit hits the fan, it’s very hard not to focus on the smell, and the mess, and well, the graphics are there. But when you ask God the question, “What are you wanting to do with my heart through this?” It completely shifts the focus from the external stuff that you can’t change or get away from, and makes it about You and Him, which is all it was ever about in the first place. The problem is, you have to be open to that paradigm shift. If you are, it can bring a peace and perspective of the bigger picture that, frankly, nothing else can. So whatever your deepest and most painful “why” is in this moment - Why do my husband and I struggle with this? Why am I still single? Why did this relationship fail? Why do I have this child with this particular challenge? Why this situation in my family, finances, job? …You fill in the blank. What if God knows that this is exactly what you need for a gentle, slow, constant, deep and abiding conversion and surrender to Him? He is always aiming at your heart.
5. Trust that God speaks to your heart
Possibly the hardest, richest and most beautiful lesson of all. I’m not sure, but I think the confidence to listen to the Holy Spirit’s voice through one’s own conscience is something we learn from others who model this for us, and encourage us to perceive His voice and sense His presence in our lives. I think my upbringing, personality and culture, as well as the organisation I became part of, all channelled me toward a very dogmatic approach to faith and spirituality. So when I was coaxed into a life-long commitment at the age of 20, I was deeply influenced and pressured mentally, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually by what I perceived to be ‘good’, ‘holy’, ‘God’s will’ and the ‘vocationally superior path’ etc. I also listened solely to people who told me what God wanted of me, and I was actively discouraged from listening to the voice and inhibitions inside my own heart. Looking back, that voice inside only spoke of fear, dread and uncertainty, but it wasn’t something I had learned to listen to at all.
Fast-forward almost 12 years and I could no longer ignore the persistent restlessness and anxiety that nagged at me inside. Overnight I went from a busy school ministry in Mexico City, to two months of relative solitude on returning home to look after my mother who was terminally ill. During those two months at home, I had the interior space and freedom to finally walk into what felt like a dark tunnel of questions about my past and how they related to my present. I instinctively knew that this was not a journey I could walk with friends or family, I was too vulnerable to the influence of others and a desire for security and approval. It was the beginning of learning the painful yet unbelievably freeing lesson of listening and responding to God who spoke to my heart.
As I ventured more deeply into these unknown waters and eventually discovered that I was not called to consecrated life, but instead to a lay vocation in marriage, there were friends who couldn’t understand it and no longer walked with me. It required a deep acceptance that sometimes others will not understand what we know to be our next right step in following Our Lord. Other friendships continued and have grown and remain a profound treasure.
To this day, I sometimes just want someone to tell me the right thing to do, think, pray, or how a Christian is called to react in certain situations. At times, it would be so much easier. However I realised that for me, community life provided a sort of safety blanket, whereas out here it’s just me working it out with Jesus in the day to day of life. In community life there were fountains of opportunities for spiritual renewal and growth that could potentially give a sort of false spiritual security; safeguarded times for personal prayer, the sacraments being so easily accessible everyday, frequent contact with different spiritual leaders and mentors. It is all about calling. For me it is a paradox that while I naturally like certitude, I clearly felt a call to return to the ‘world’ and live “a hidden life with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3). It both excites and terrifies me to walk out this journey of life before God alone, trusting that He will continue speaking to my heart.
