Audio: Mary Rose Kreger reads.
My black “sensible” shoes squeaked on the linoleum as I paused outside Sister Grace’s* door. The entrance to her basement office was grey and unmarked.
When I knocked, Sister Grace opened the door and gave me a tired smile.
“Sister Mary Inez,” she said in greeting. “Please, take a seat.”
I walked past a neat stack of chairs, then found my usual seat across from Sister. Her office was beige, non-descript, and doubled for a storage closet. The humble setting offered no outward sign of the good things the Lord had accomplished here. All the healing I had experienced, the ways I matured, the wisdom I gained: none of those graces could be seen on the grey walls, the scuffed tiled floor. Everything was hidden within.
Sister passed me her tiny vial of holy water, stored in a container the size of a Chapstick. I took a few drops from the top and made a careful Sign of the Cross.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…
After we’d prayed, Sister Grace met my gaze.
“So, Sister.” Her voice was gentle. “How are you?”
Five months ago, when I first met Sister Grace, I wouldn’t have been able to answer this question. I didn’t know how I was doing, or how I felt, about almost anything. I’d spent so many years ignoring most of my emotions, I didn’t know how to recognize them.
But Sister Grace had taught me how to feel again. She gave me a Feelings Chart with dozens of names for different emotions—good, bad, and neutral ones. At first, just allowing myself to feel anything, even for a few minutes, was excruciating. Still, it got easier and easier with time.
When I did start to feel, I also began to heal. I learned how to identify and accept the wounds from my past—wounds that had caused me physical back pain for almost 12 years.
Let the Lord into those dark places with you, Sister Grace had counseled me. Let Him enter, so He can heal you.
My fingers tingled with the touch of the Holy Water, and my senses sharpened with the rich scent of Sister’s coffee.
I had no words to describe what happened then, when the Lord entered my darkness. Like Sister’s unassuming office, all His graces were hidden within. What I could say was this: my chronic back pain was gone.
“How are things going for you?” she asked again.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Sister, sending out that letter last month really helped, and then getting an answer—wow. I’m feeling better, and I’m so grateful.”
Sister Grace sat up straighter, waiting. She was in her forties, perhaps, with a pop of auburn hair sticking out below her crisp black veil. She had clear blue eyes and a sad, determined set to her jaw.
“Have you thought about what I suggested during our last visit?” she prompted. “Are you ready for this to be our final appointment?”
The thought of ending our meetings filled me with dread.
“I’m healed, Sister. My back pain is gone, and I can feel again.” I sighed. “So why am I so miserable?”
Sister Grace gave me a long look.
“Sister, what do you desire?”
I stared behind her, into the grey. “I want…a tangible kind of love. I try to give it to my sisters here, but no one wants it.” At night, I’d peer into the bathroom mirror, just to confirm I was still there. I felt invisible. “I want…to be seen, known, loved.”
“What does that sound like?” she prompted.
The answer came to me all at once, abrupt and startling. “Oh…Marriage. It sounds like marriage!”
In that moment, I knew right away that I wasn’t called to be a sister. I was supposed to get married! No one could have been more surprised than me. I felt so much joy!
I smiled and leapt to my feet. “I have to go home, Sister. My husband is waiting for me!”
#
I left Sister’s office a hundred times lighter than when I’d entered it. Both Sister Grace and Sister Anna, my novice mistress, cautioned me to wait a week before leaving the convent, but I had no doubts. I called my family, made flight plans to Detroit. My convent angel, Sister Joanna, took me to Target to buy some regular clothes. By the end of my week of waiting, I had packed my few remaining belongings and was ready to leave.
#
The night before, my novice mistress gave me permission to see Sister Grace one last time. I hurried downstairs to her office after dinner clean-up.
Sister Grace was waiting for me.
“I’m going home tomorrow!” I said, with a huge smile. After a moment’s hesitation, I gave her a hug. “Thank you so much for helping me, Sister Grace. All this time, I thought God wanted me to be a sister, but now I know I’m supposed to get married!”
Sister Grace smiled in return. “So you’re certain this is what you want to do?”
“I know this is what God wants,” I answered. Then I remembered something from dinner. “Tonight, the Gospel reading at table was, ‘Go home and tell your family all that the Lord has done for you.’ That was for me, Sister.” I paused, hoping she would understand. “That’s what God wants me to do!”
Sister Grace went quiet for a moment. She seemed happy, but also surprised. I had a feeling my reaction was not typical.
“You are a simple, beautiful soul, Sister.”
I hesitated. A few months ago, I would have torn such an affirmation to pieces, convinced that there was nothing truly good about myself.
But God has healed you, Mary. And if He has chosen to make your soul simple and beautiful, there’s only one thing left to say.
I took a deep breath, then dipped my head. “Thank you.”
Sister Grace’s eyes lit up this time when she smiled.
“God bless you, Sister. I’ll be praying for you.”
#
*Name changed
Thank you so much for reading! Join me next week for a major reality check upon my arrival home! 🙂
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