Reflections
Reflection for the Vigil of the Fourth Sunday of Advent
Each of our stories, individually and as a community, has been written one word at a time, revealing the struggles, uncertainties and fragility that defines the human experience. They were not written in black and white because life has more gray areas than we might like. At least, that’s true for me.
Life is more of a mix of light and shadow, where we can see God transform our darkness into light. I’ve witnessed this firsthand.
Seven years ago today, I lay in a hospital bed in Nairobi, Kenya, filled with fear and feeling completely alone in the world. I needed a life-saving surgery that could not be performed there, and no one was sure I would survive. It never occurred to me then that seven years later God would lead me here, and I would get to refer to you as “my sisters.” Life unfolds in the in-betweenness of doubt and certainty, fear and courage, and brokenness and grace.
“The Lord commands death and life, consigns to Sheol or raises up.”
This truth, revealed in Hannah’s prayer (1 Samuel 2:1-10) and Joseph’s response to the angel (Matthew 1:18-24), shows how God works through ordinary people who trust Him, even in the midst of uncertainty.
Hannah’s journey began in profound grief. She longed for a child, and her pain consumed her. Her prayer in the temple was raw, almost desperate—it was a cry born from the tension between her faith in God and the stark reality of her barrenness. Yet, Hannah didn’t turn away from God. Instead, she brought her brokenness and surrendered her deepest desire.
When God answered her prayer with the gift of a son, the gray areas did not entirely disappear for Hannah. The joy of Samuel’s birth was deeply felt as was the bittersweet reality of the promise she made to dedicate him to God’s service. Hannah’s story is not an immediate transition from sorrow to joy. Hannah lived in the tension between holding on and letting go. Her song of praise reflects this paradox: the God who humbles is also the God who exalts.
Have you ever had a moment when God answered your prayer and you experienced both sorrow and joy? God doesn’t respond in black and white—He works in the gray areas, reshaping our lives in ways we might not fully understand.
What we read in the gospel today is the response of God- the promises fulfilled to both Elizabeth and Mary because they believed. However, Mary’s story began with confusion and heartbreak when Joseph learned of her pregnancy. His love and compassion for Mary is in direct conflict with his confusion, hurt, and fear of public disgrace. He considered a quiet solution, one that seemed kind but avoided fully confronting the difficulty of the situation.
The angel’s message didn’t immediately solve everything for Joseph. It only invited him into a deeper uncertainty—a life that defied social norms and a role he hadn’t imagined. Saying yes meant embracing a future full of unknowns, relying on faith rather than clear answers.
His response didn’t erase his fear but showed his choice to act in faith despite it. His quiet courage didn’t eliminate the struggle but gave him the strength to support Mary in the unfolding mystery of salvation.
Have you ever had a Joseph moment? Have you ever faced decisions that defied logic but required obedience to a call from God? For me, my call to monastic life felt beyond my capacity. Like Joseph, I wrestled with fear and uncertainty, yet stepping forward in faith has brought incredible blessings.
Both Joseph and Hannah live in the tension of the in-between—unfulfilled desires, uncertain futures and lives marked by pain and promise, just like you or me, or any other person on this planet. Yet, it is in these gray areas, God meets us, not with clear or instant answers but with an invitation to trust.
As a community, we find ourselves living in this same tension, invited to trust in God despite our aging membership, the decline in vocations, and the uncertainty of our future. Sr. Liliana Franco, president of CLAR and a Sister of the Company of Mary, reminded us during the Congress in Argentina that this moment in the church calls us to
“embrace that tension between death and life, between steps that move us forward and paralysis that keeps us from walking, between intuitions and calls of the Spirit that propel us beyond, and shortsightedness that roots us in the comfort of the familiar.”
Let us not stay there. This tension does not diminish us; it transforms us. We are called to let go of what holds us back and open ourselves to the Spirit’s guidance, trusting that God will continue to reshape our lives and mission even as we journey through gray areas. Together, we step forward in faith, knowing that, just as God was with Hannah and Joseph, God is with us in the journey ahead.