What's in My Jambalaya?

I'm continuing to struggle with physical illness. I don't like to write about that here because I don't want to become that person you avoid lest you get constant updates on symptoms. However, if I focus through the grille, there should be little attention given to illness. Besides, God is teaching me marvelous things, and it doesn't seem fair to keep them entirely to myself. Nope, not fair at all.

So I shall talk about jambalaya.

I was recently told of a time when a hurricane ravaged an already impoverished area, and volunteers came to the devastated residents and made jambalaya for them. Every day they did this, putting aside their own wants and needs in order to help people who needed nourishing meals.

Not too many days had gone by before residents started grumbling.

Couldn't the volunteers provide anything besides jambalaya?  Tomatoes, onions, seafood, sausage, chicken, celery - same old, same old, day after day....wasn't there anything else?

The volunteers heard them, and they responded. They stopped cooking jambalaya. They stopped cooking anything. It seems that maybe a thank you would have been appreciated.

Since hearing this story several days ago, I've been considering my own spiritual "jambalaya." In the midst of physical challenges, God is providing nourishment of the very best kinds. Friends come to visit, people pray for me, gifts arrive in the mail. Bible passages show up just when I need them and they leap right off the page.  Am I paying attention? Have I noticed what small or large nuggets of grace are in my stew today?
 
One bit of holy nourishment I'm grateful for is writings of saints. On my physical down-days, I'm finding it (temporarily?) difficult to write and sometimes difficult to pray. So into my spiritual jambalaya, I mix in words of others who have been able to articulate what I cannot.

I thank God for voices who spoke like this...

 "O my God, let me remember with gratitude and confess to Thee Thy mercies toward me." St Augustine

"The secret of happiness is to live moment by moment and to thank Him for what He is sending us every day in His goodness." St Gianna Beretta Molla

"Thank God ahead of time." Venerable Solanus Casey

This Unchosen Cloister

You may have noticed that lately I've been absent from behind these cloister walls. I wish I could say I've been away on a long vacation, but the truth is far less glamorous. I've spent the last few weeks in a cloister not of my own choosing... within the little "cell" of a hospital room.

I hope to tell you more, soon, about this adventure. (I know you won't be able to wait). In the meantime, this is just to say "Hi! I'm back!" And I hope you're having a blessed Easter season.

'Thank God, there still remains one sanctuary, the sacredness of which no earthly power may violate…  It is the sanctuary of the human heart.  It needs no fixed place for its confines, no stated time for the opening of its gates, no particular hour of silence for its prayer.  A thought, a word, a moment of reflection, and by faith and by love, the soul is within the blessed refuge, and the gates are closed on the confusion of life with all its noise and tumult. It is secure against the bitterness and the pain of persecution, or hardship or trial, or hurt of body, or wound of earthly pride, or failure of worldly ambition, for there she is inviolable, sacred, impregnable in the fortress of her own spirit.' (From The Living Pyx of Jesus, Pelligrini and Co, 1941, p.101) 

'We cannot go to Jesus in the Tabernacle at every moment of the day, but we can turn inward to the Triune God at any moment, even in the midst of our day's worst difficulties.' (The Living Pyx of Jesus, Pelligrini, 1941, p. 27)

There Still Remains One Sanctuary

'The 'little gallery' for the infirm or invalid sisters is just above the grated opening of the choir, and from this the sisters can look down into the sanctuary. This little gallery is reached from the second floor by passing down a long corridor, on each side of which is a row of cells. Here, in the small room, we found wooden chairs, glistening with the polish of a hundred years or more... ' (A Story of Courage p. 35)

Wouldn't it be wonderful if, when we were unable to get out to Mass and/or Adoration, we could simply go to the end of our hallway and look straight into a chapel? 

Thankfully, Our Lord has provided help for those of us who do not live in monasteries. We can adore Him wherever we are, even from sickbeds and hospital rooms, in the cloisters of our hearts. 

'Thank God, there still remains one sanctuary, the sacredness of which no earthly power may violate…  It is the sanctuary of the human heart.  It needs no fixed place for its confines, no stated time for the opening of its gates, no particular hour of silence for its prayer.  A thought, a word, a moment of reflection, and by faith and by love, the soul is within the blessed refuge, and the gates are closed on the confusion of life with all its noise and tumult. It is secure against the bitterness and the pain of persecution, or hardship or trial, or hurt of body, or wound of earthly pride, or failure of worldly ambition, for there she is inviolable, sacred, impregnable in the fortress of her own spirit.' (From The Living Pyx of Jesus, Pelligrini and Co, 1941, p.101) 

'We cannot go to Jesus in the Tabernacle at every moment of the day, but we can turn inward to the Triune God at any moment, even in the midst of our day's worst difficulties.' (The Living Pyx of Jesus, Pelligrini, 1941, p. 27)

'To be with God it is not necessary to be always in church. We may make a chapel of our heart, whereto to escape from time to time to talk with Him quietly, humbly and lovingly.... Begin then; perhaps He is waiting for a single generous resolution.' (Brother Lawrence)  

This post is part of our series 'A Story of Courage.' To continue in chronological order, click this line.