Catherine's Cafe Vocation Blog

The cherry tomatoes on my sister Molly’s plant make my mouth water!     The first two tomatoes I pick are so beautiful; I do not want to eat them.     The Saturday morning farmer’s market during these last weeks of August is an experience in abundance.  Each fruit and vegetable demonstrates the mystery of sunlight and rain, of earth and air.  Hidden seeds become luscious food. As Dominicans, we are called to praise and to bless.  The taste of a crunchy cucumber, the tartness of a blueberry, or the drippy sweetness of a slice of watermelon make it so easy to exclaim God’s goodness. This past Sunday’s second reading from the Letter of James says, “Humbly welcome the word that has been planted in you…” Even as this pandemic rages forward and the international scene speaks of injustice and oppression, James reminds us that we are called to be the harvest of God wherever we are, in any way possible.  The harvest of God’s love, mercy...

A few days ago, I celebrated my seventy-fifth birthday. Seventy-five is a robust number, a solid number. After all, it’s three quarters of a century, isn’t it! I have nothing against the number, but to have to attach it to my person seems bizarre.     When I think of a seventy-five-year-old woman I think of my grandmother, but that’s not who I am. There must have been some mistake in the records. But wait! What’s wrong with being seventy-five? I now have seven and a half decades of experiences to hold onto. I have, as we say, been there and done that. My bucket list is getting shorter, and I feel a deep sense of satisfaction in the realization that my life has been fruitful. I give thanks for friends and family and for my Dominican Congregation that supports me more than I deserve. Seventy-five is a ripe age and it’s time for the harvest – drawing in the wisdom and the gifts as well as the challenges that have shaped me into the woman I am. Come to think of it, I like being se...

For me, September always feels like the beginning of a new year.  It might be those years spent in a classroom where I absolutely loved getting ready for school, setting up my room, eagerly preparing for a new beginning. But it’s the change of the seasons that makes me truly feel a new year is starting.  I loved my years ministering in Alabama and Louisiana but this Minnesota girl always ached for the change of seasons.  That first day I smell autumn, feel it in a cool breeze, savor the warmth of jeans and sweatshirt, I know – it’s time to begin again, it’s time to be open to change, to letting go. The trees teach me this, as do the shorter days, the harvesting of crops I’ve watched grow all summer long, the long shadows at sunset. I can’t stay in the past, but how I need God’s grace to help me move forward!   What challenges do you face this new year? What does Autumn ask of you?  And where do you find the grace that always finds us?...

That was the big Spring announcement when, as kids, we found the Burpee Seed Catalog in our rural mailbox at the end of winter.   Eager for anything colorful, we poured over those pages - fodder for dreams of garden flowers and foods, for new life and the promise of a new season.   Now, hovering in mid-Lent, my dry soul/garden needs a version of the Burpee Catalog and I realize I have one, we all do   – it’s called the Gospel.   But unlike a package from the seed catalog, we don’t have to wait for it to arrive, we don’t have to be in the best possible condition to plant or harvest.   Because our God doesn’t work that way;     God’s mercy and grace abound even when we feel like we’re in a perpetual February or snowy March.   Gardens of every kind appear everywhere in scripture and the Holy is found there in all times and all seasons.   Take the time to ponder, sit with, and image these words of Catherine of Siena for your...