He Is My Home
Sr. iSABEL mARIA OF jESUS mY eUCHARISTIC sPOUSE, cp (hOLLY vIETAS)
Holly (right) with her older siblings Sofie and Joshua
At the top of the stairs in my house was a bookshelf we called the “prayer shelf.” Every day my siblings and I were supposed to have quiet time for 15 minutes, which meant as a child that I would go to the shelf and pull out a picture book on one of the saints or the comic book Bible. I would lie on my bed or on the floor and flip through the book until my time was up. As I grew old enough for chapter books, I devoured the stories of the saints. The idea of living so radically for God presented itself so appealingly, and I would dream of running away like St. Catherine of Siena to become a hermit, of giving my life courageously like the Jesuit martyrs, or entering the cloister at a young age like St. Therese. Not knowing what journalling really was, I would write out quotes from whatever caught my fancy from the saints or the Bible. Eventually I remember a specific moment when I finally realized that the purpose of quiet time was actually to pray. From my heart sprung an honest prayer of really wanting to know God and choose him not because I had to sit there during quiet time, but because I actually wanted to pray.
My journey was filled with small steps of growing deeper in that desire to know God. Along with that continued the dream of being a great saint, and especially of being consecrated to God alone. Of course, I had lots of other aspirations. Growing up in Cincinnati, as the third of seven children, I loved being in a big family and I wanted to have at least ten kids myself. I also wanted to have a farm, preferably somewhere in New England where my dad grew up, which would have lots of horses and pigs and cows and other animals which my older sister Sofie would take care of, because I was going to be very busy also being a religious sister and a nurse.
Holly’s First Communion day, with her godparents Bill and Stevie Johnstone
I always knew, from the example of my mom and dad, that the most important thing in life was to be a saint. Waking up every morning and going down the stairs, I was tremendously impacted by peeking into the living room and seeing my dad sitting there having prayer time, always on the same couch where he could see the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe on the mantel. He would let us little ones curl up next to him, and we would sit more or less quietly, though now I wonder how he ever managed to pray with our squirming and random questions. My mom was the same in her daily consistency in prayer. The foundation of my parents’ prayer life provided solidity for mine, and they always made sure we included prayer in our day. At meals, we always sang a hymn as part of grace, and every night we prayed together and took turns thanking God for our day. When my mom couldn’t make it to daily Mass, my older siblings started biking there and I joined in (reluctantly at first, but it grew on me) until it became a staple of every day.
On the day of my First Holy Communion, I felt like a bride on her wedding day, giddy with joy and almost unbelieving that I could finally receive Jesus. I didn’t realize until later how important this was in my vocational journey – Jesus Eucharistic took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. The desire to be only his always intensified in the Presence of the Holy Eucharist, as if the gift of Himself demanded the same from me.
Holly and family on pilgrimage in Fatima, Portugal
Religious life changed from a beautiful idea to a real and raw reality in my life when my older sister Sofie entered a congregation of active Dominicans. I was 13, about to start high school, and all of a sudden my best friend and sister was gone. Not only were we homeschooled and spent most of our time together, but I shared a room and even wore the same clothes as she did. Despite the full support of my family and our happiness for her, it was an excruciatingly painful period for all of us. I missed her so much. During this time, my desire for religious life didn’t leave. It was intermingled with wanting to be with Sofie, but even more I ached to do the same thing as she was doing. I knew how real it was, and I wanted it. After a little less than a year, Sofie discerned to come home, and now she is happily married with three cute little girls. This abrupt coming home, however, also marked me with a fear and uncertainty of what would happen if I entered religious life. Would I stay? Would I put a halt to everything in life, only to find that it didn’t work out? Would I feel called and then find out I was wrong?
I researched way too many religious communities online during high school, with phases of infatuation with particular communities that always fizzled out over time. Multiple times I had a priest tell me in confession that I should discern religious life. I even went to confession once and the priest advised me to look into the Passionist Nuns! I excitedly found our old website, convinced this might be it, but quickly lost interest when I saw the habits (at the time I didn’t like the peak at the front of the veil!) and the cloister. I moved on and completely forgot the whole thing until years later when I was a Passionist postulant! During this time of discernment, I was frustrated because I wanted Jesus to call me but it seemed like all the desire and effort was on my side, not his. I wanted him to propose to me in adoration with some dramatic words that swept me off my feet. Was this all my imagination and he didn’t really want me? At the end of high school, I hadn’t found “the one”…so I decided to go to Franciscan University of Steubenville for nursing.
Holly’s RA photo from Franciscan University
All seemed quiet on the vocations front until my fall semester of Sophomore year. I almost dated but I never brought myself to commit to it. I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t give my heart away. I wasn’t free. There was still that burning question deep down of whether I only belonged to Jesus. I didn’t know where I was called, but the Dominicans were the only ones I really knew, and that door hadn’t closed. I went back on a retreat, and in the end I applied to enter the Dominicans that summer. I was so excited…and then suddenly I wasn’t. What happened? Did I discern his Will wrongly? What should I do? I only had peace when I made the decision not to go. I didn’t know if it was right; I just knew I couldn’t do it. The turnaround was very confusing and discouraging to me, and I questioned whether I would ever really be called. In the end, the grace that Jesus impressed on me was to show me that I was chasing my ideal future with him when he just wanted to be with me in the here and now. If I won’t be with him now, what’s the point about worrying how I’ll be with him in the future?
During my college years, I made true friends who really spurred me on. I was in a household called Servants of the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, and my devotion to Jesus in the Eucharist only increased. It was inseparable from the reality of Jesus Crucified, who wanted to find a refuge in my heart amidst his lonely suffering. He my refuge, and I his. By the end of college I felt I couldn’t live without a daily holy hour. At the same time, working as a Resident Assistant in the dorms led me into all kinds of crises with situations that I felt powerless to fix. The same thing happened in nursing where I encountered deep loneliness and suffering in those I cared for. I found myself going to Jesus over and over in the chapel, pouring out my heart to him with all the secret needs of my residents and patients. I would visit him where he sat alone in the tabernacle at the hospital, abandoned as if living the isolation of those he loved. It was such a pattern that I gradually realized that maybe this was my place: to be the little one who can do nothing but who brings it all to Jesus; the one who simply lives with him and trusts in his powerful care.
The Vietas family at Sofie’s wedding (Holly is in green near the center of the photo)
Near the end of college my friend told me that one of her friends had been on a retreat at the Passionists here and she said, “Holly, I think you need to go. You really need to look into them. They sound like you.” I was very fearful and reluctant to jump back into discernment, but after delaying, I looked up our website. I was immediately so struck by our charism of bearing the Passion of Jesus always in our hearts. This was what he had already been calling me to! I was already a home for Jesus Crucified. The draw to simply be with him, especially in suffering, and the call to intercessory prayer finally made sense. From there, it was a series of gradual steps where each time I came here, Jesus gave me the grace and courage to do just the next little bit until I joyfully entered the monastery in December of 2022.
To round off our series of blog posts on Sr. Isabel Maria’s First Profession, we’re sharing the reflection that Sister wrote for her Profession Mass booklet. It’s a lovely meditation on the meaning of her Baptismal name, Holly, and we hope you find it as meaningful as we did!