Where God finds me

by Sister Patricia Mulvaney, CSC

Many years ago at the beginning of a long retreat, my director suggested I consider the question, "Where were you when God first found you?" I liked the question because I was not the one doing the seeking. God was.

And where did God find me the first time? God found me on Casper Mountain when I was about 3 years old. The family had gone on a Christmas tree search. I recall quite clearly the majestic beauty of the mountains. I knew my father and others were close by, but I was alone. For the first time I experienced God's presence.

At that same retreat the director posed a second question, "Where were you when God found you today?" This question and my response recur from time to time when I pray.

I was fortunate to grow up in a family of faith – the fourth of seven children – four boys and three girls. My parents moved to Casper, Wyoming, from Chicago shortly after they were married, and it is there that my father began his law practice.

There was hardly a time when Holy Cross was not part of my life. The line between family and community is still somewhat of a blur. As an infant I was held in the arms of my aunt, Sister Richardine, and my grandfather, Professor Seidel. Both had enormous influence on me in my growing-up years and both were part of Holy Cross in unique ways.
	Patricia (age 3) and sister Mary (age 5)

My grandfather taught music at Saint Mary's College from 1890 until the early 1930s; his daughter entered Holy Cross shortly before I was born. Their visits to our family are among my cherished childhood memories. Following a stroke and resulting blindness, my grandfather came to live with us, and my mother made sure each of us had a turn in caring for him. I usually enjoyed this responsibility and thus was born my love for the sick and elderly.

When I was 8 years old I experienced death for the first time. I can recall the disbelief I felt when baby Ted died suddenly. Eight years later my oldest brother, Vin, was killed in World War II. These two losses had a profound effect on me and the other members of our close-knit family. But I learned something about acceptance. I also learned that I had a lot more to discover about the mystery of life and death.

I was in high school during most of the Second World War. Many of us wanted to help in some way. I was thrilled when the opportunity came for me to work as a nurses' aide at our local hospital. I had thought about studying nursing and this was a great time to test the waters. I was 15, a junior, and earned $100 a month working after school and on weekends. I felt I was helping the war effort. Most of all, I wanted to be a nurse.

During the post-World War II years, there were Catholic youth rallies throughout the country. While attending one of these rallies, I was encouraged to pursue the idea of religious vocation. I was halfway through my nursing program and wanted to complete it. Three from my class were advised to enter religious communities with the understanding that we could complete our education after our religious formation.

My sister, Mary, had entered the novitiate the year before and so I decided to visit her. Although neither of us had any contact with Holy Cross except through our aunt, there was no doubt that God called us to this particular congregation ("the call within the call"). The Sisters of the Blessed Virgin Mary had given me a sound elementary education. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth had a very positive influence on my desire to pursue nursing. How to explain my desire to enter Holy Cross? Indeed, how to explain God's mysterious ways?

Two things had a positive influence on me as I began my formation: first, the opportunity to care for our sick and aged sisters; and, second, the invitation to sing in the choir. Assisting in the infirmary gave me the chance to meet many sisters who had lived religious life and were eager to share stories of their early days. I was a willing listener. Being part of the choir was a privilege. Sister Marie Cecile was the embodiment of the saying, "Those who sing pray twice." Here I learned that music was a link to God. That link sustained me over the years as God continued to find me in sacred and other types of musical forms.

A School of Nursing was an integral part of our healing mission, and I was assigned to teach there. Teaching would not have been my choice, but in the 1950s we were not given choices. Fortunately for me, I learned to love the students and enjoyed teaching basic nursing for four and a half years before I was assigned to pursue graduate study at the Catholic University of America.

The three years following graduation, I directed the Holy Cross School of Nursing in Salt Lake City, Utah. I then returned to Saint Alphonsus in Boise to serve as superior and administrator.

The following nine years were life-giving ones for me. My studies had prepared me for nursing administration, but not hospital administration. When I voiced concern it was met with, "It's all God's work. You are just an instrument."

Still, I had some trepidation about such a challenging assignment: How would I balance work and prayer? Would the doctors be intimidating? Would I be "God's instrument" in this ministry? These fears were not erased the first day, week or even the first year, but gradually I had a sense of God's finding me yet again – in the support I felt through the community of sisters working together to accomplish the mission and in the adversity which surrounded the plan to build a new hospital at a different location.

Those years (1963-1972) were pre- and post-Vatican II. We experienced many changes in our lives. For example, our convent was a wing of the hospital. Once we walked through the door, we were on the medical unit. Everyone knew us by our habits, our religious names, our daily schedule. It was a time of growth, trying to balance new forms of prayer and retreats with all the external changes we experienced.

Two family events took place in the mid-1960s that affected me with sadness and with joy. My dear aunt, Sister Richardine, died to enter eternal life. My dear sister, Beth, entered Holy Cross to begin life in community. God was very present in both these very different experiences.

During the mid 1970s and 1980s, I was involved in community and health system leadership. In 1975 I had the unique opportunity as western regional superior to learn much more about the ministry of education as I visited many of our sisters in various school and diocesan settings. I admired the impact so many made on the youth they taught, but I never developed an ease in visiting a classroom similar to the "at home" feeling I always had in a sick room.

I served as project manager for the addition and renovation of Saint Catherine's retirement community in Ventura, California. I also served on several local boards of trustees and later as president and chief executive officer of Holy Cross Health System. One of the many challenges of these years was to be rooted in God through some turbulent and unsettled times. God always provided just the right companions on the journey. There were some very traumatic events, and it was not always immediately evident where God was or "where God found me today."

The next large renovation project of which I was a part was Rosary Hall, an assisted-living residence, and Saint Mary's Convent, a nursing facility for our sick sisters. During my term on the Congregation's General Council (1989-1994), these projects were completed with the objective of having places of beauty to try to ensure that the sisters' external environment would be conducive to their interior peace.

	When I returned after a year away to take on the duties of local superior to the sisters in Saint Mary's Convent, I did not want the total concentration to be on the external environment.
Sister Patricia's Golden Jubilee Celebration in 2001 (L to r:) Sister Beth, brother Dick and his wife Jeanne, Sister Patricia, and brother Pete and his wife Sue

The chaplain and I worked out a program we called "Aging in the Lord." It provided an opportunity for sisters to share with one another the action of God in their lives. We presented the program three or four times in as many years and felt it was a wonderful way of recognizing God's presence and love in the lives of our community members. During those years (1995-2000) I was also privileged to be with many sisters when they died.

I learned so much about a "good death" at Saint Mary's, and I realized the sisters had a community of support as they went through the dying process. After prayer and spiritual direction, I felt drawn to return to Saint Alphonsus in Boise to see how we could improve care at the end of life. I am now in my third year in this ministry and feel it is very life-giving for me. My personal experience of family death, including my dear sister, Mary, in 2001, helps me to understand what others are experiencing. In addition to this work, I am also serving on a number of committees related to the building of a large addition to the hospital. How many people have the opportunity to return 30 years later and contribute again to beautifying the structure so people can receive the best of care in a healing environment? I am fortunate that the administration is most supportive of my efforts and the efforts of the other sisters in ministry at Saint Alphonsus.

In reflecting back on the events of my life, I become aware of God's finding me in all aspects of my journey. I am grateful for the strong faith of my family and for the hope I experience in my life in Holy Cross today.