How to explain the inexplicable?
My last convent story was posted on 11/20/04 Link
(I still don't know how to link correctly. Slow learner! Not your fault Blue Dev!)
I was having a difficult time coping with the arid circumstances of my convent life, which I compared to a desert. At that time in my life I was not very well rooted in my Christian life. I still had miles to go, many lessons to learn, many obstacles to overcome in my openness to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit. I was still very young (24) and immature. Why was God so slow in transforming my mind so that I would see the wisdom of His ways?
In Psalm 1:3 the word of God tells us that we are to be: …”like a tree planted near streams of water, that yields its fruit in season; Its leaves never wither; whatever they do prospers.”
I needed to plant myself by the river of God’s grace to become firmly rooted in His life by letting Him influence every dimension of my life. I knew that He loves every person with an everlasting love and that He will always remain faithful to us, even if we can’t understand His overall plan. The powerful rivers of His grace will rush in and erode all the old ways of thinking and living. It will allow Him to point out areas where we are not choosing Him and help us make the necessary changes. This is the way to maturity. It wasn't easy!
I felt more like the chaff that the next verse of Psalm 1 goes on to describe. I felt blown about with roots. Try as I might, I could not always understand what the good God was trying to accomplish in my life. Patience… in His way He would teach me. It was painful. My mother would again be the beacon that would show me the right way to face difficulties.
And here came the next sand storm in that desert place in my life:
I made my yearly day visit with my parents. There I learned my youngest sister, Mildred, who had married Roger Ball and who was living in Alaska was pregnant again with her third child. My mother told me that she would be coming back home to have her baby. Robert Arthur Ball was born on October 1, 1953 at LaMoure, ND.
One day my sister Mary came to the door of my classroom in the middle of a school day. She beckoned for me to come out in the hall so she could talk freely. I asked the children to stay quietly in their desks until I came back. I knew from the worried, sad look on my sister’s face that there was bad news. With tears in her voice and eyes she related what had happened.
Shortly after Bobby was born Roger and Mildred were traveling back to Alaska. Their life in Alaska was tough and Mildred had not wanted to go back there. Since that was where her husband was making a living, she agreed reluctantly to go with him. Near Helena, Montana, Mildred had her first nervous breakdown. Roger called my mother to ask what he should do. Mother asked my brother-in-law, Harold Gleesing to go with my brother, Paul, to Montana to bring her back home. Some of Roger’s relatives near Montana kept the children.
Mary begged me to ask permission to come home to comfort my mother as she prayerfully waited for Mildred and the men to arrive. Surprisingly, my superior, Mother Germaine Marie, quickly gave her permission. She didn’t even call Valley City to see if it was all right. She got a substitute for my classroom and I went home with Mary.
When Mildred and my brothers came through the front door, I took one look at a very disheveled woman who did not really resemble my baby sister at all. I turned and went out the back door sobbing my heart out. I couldn’t believe that my sister had been going through such horrific trials that she had attempted to take her own life while she and Roger were traveling back to Alaska. She was completely depressed and she could not get out of that depression by herself.
Instead of being a comfort to my mother, my mother had to comfort me. She settled Mildred down to the dining room table and tried to get her to eat but Mildred was far beyond the point where she would eat. Dad and mom decided that they would take her to the hospital in Oakes.
Since I was not allowed to stay overnight at home, I rode along with them to the hospital. I tried to compose myself so that Mildred would not see how distressed I was. She was too far out of it, to take any notice of me. At the hospital she was given a shot of some kind to quiet her. As she became more restful, we began to talk. She had many confusing ideas circulating around in her head. She talked of a musician, Whoopy John in one sentence and about her baby boys in the next. She continued to ask about their situation and who was caring for them. Finally she fell asleep. Dad could not understand what was happening to his little girl. He didn’t know where to turn for answers. Mom was the strong one comforting him and me, never thinking of herself at all.
I returned very late to my protected life in the convent. Sleep would not come. I could feel all the anguish of the day. This was my first experience with mental illness and it struck with horrifying intensity since it concerned my sister whom I so dearly loved.
The next day, my mother called to ask if I could accompany her and Gene to the Cities where they had found a hospital that would treat Mildred’s condition. I was given permission to do that with strict instruction that I had to find a convent in the Cities to spend the night, if I had to be gone for more than one day. My mother reassured my superiors that they would follow their orders to the letter.
The trip was uneventful until we stopped some place in MN to get something to eat. Gene parked at a fast food place that was very close to a lake. He went in to get some carryout food. He left the keys in the ignition. As we sat there with Mildred in the front seat and Mom and me in the back, Mildred kept eyeing the keys. Mother told me to go up in front to sit with Mildred. Mildred laughed and said, “Mom, don’t worry, I am not going to drive us into the lake.” It was the first time we heard her laugh since she had come home the previous day.
After eating our lunch in the car, we continued on with our journey until we arrived at the hospital in Golden Valley. When Mildred saw the building she realized that we were going to leave her there. She did not want to get out of the car. The attendants came and forced her to get out. We watched helplessly with intense feelings of sadness as she struggled to get away from them. Finally they had to subdue her with another tranquilizer. Sobbing quietly she relaxed and let herself be carried into the hospital.
We stayed with her until she was asleep in her room. It was late afternoon. Mother was worn out but she said that we had to find lodging for me. She wanted to stay overnight so that she might talk to the doctors the next day. Mom, though thoroughly exhausted herself, saw that I was hurting. My head was pounding. I had not slept at all the previous night. Gene looked in the phone book for convents that might take me in. After several calls to Catholic rectories we found a place for me to stay for the night. They dropped me off and they left to stay at one of my sisters’ places for the night.
The next day we visited Mildred again. She was not very happy with us or with this place. This was very understandable. She was ill with post-natal depression. She was feeling guilty about things over which she had little control. We tried to console her and assure her that her boys would be cared for. She remained there until the doctors felt that she was ready to face her world again.
My life went on but my view of things had undergone a change. Before witnessing Mildred’s illness, I easily saw the humorous side of life in most events. Now I grew much more sober. I had been whining and bellyaching about the austerity of my life. I had no clue about what was going on in the world around me.
Some truths about life began to emerge from this experience. My conclusions included these truisms that were usually fairly evident to most mature people. They now became real for me. These newly learned truths were: Life is short and sometimes very tragic, and each day we are reminded of our finiteness. Mildred’s suffering caused me to reflect on my own mortality. It made me realize anew what I really wanted out of life. I want to grow in my trust of Him and His plan for my life and for the lives of all I loved. I knew that He wanted all of us to stay close to Him. I believed that God is good and all knowing—nothing catches him by surprise, not the car out of control, the malignant tumor, the hurricane, or mental illness. He does not cause these things. So even as I wondered and questioned the cause for Mildred’s illness, I knew that God knows and that in everything, He is working all things toward good.
Jesus instructs us, “Do not be worried about anything.” Jesus knows about this life and its pains. If He had remained in heaven, perhaps I would not have paid as much attention to this advice. However, because God stepped down to earth and wrapped Himself in human flesh and human problems, I knew that I could trust Him even in those events that I couldn’t understand. I realized that I could not control the future. I couldn’t even add one day to my life. While I knew that I had to take responsibility for who I am and work to make my life the best that I could, I had to remember that I can only control my life up to a point. After that, I have to trust in God’s mercy and in His loving plan for those I love and for me.