A friend of mine said something that hit home. She said, “Melanie, perhaps you don’t have the grace to live the kind of life you are living. Perhaps you have the grace to live a different kind of life.” This comment went in. I knew there was truth in her words. But what to do?

I figured this also was God’s problem. He’s supposed to know everything, isn’t he? So I told him, “You get me where I’m supposed to be.” And he did.

I never heard of Madonna House until 2001. Then I heard about it, over and over again. Different people, different circumstances, but it kept coming up. In my heart, I knew I was supposed to go there, but I kept putting it off. I lived in Arizona, and Madonna House is in eastern Canada. It seemed a long way to go and a lot of money to get there. It didn’t make sense.

But God has his ways and Our Lady, too. So in the spring of 2002, there I went for a week’s stay. It’s amazing what can happen to a person in a week.

My first day at Madonna House was the feast of the Annunciation, so there was a special festive supper. We had ham, and that seemed to be a very big deal. When I refused a second helping, the server at my table, one of the Madonna House priests, said to me, “Are you sure, Melanie? We haven’t had ham here since the 1970s!”

That seemed a bit strange, but what impressed me was the joy and gratitude that the staff found in what to me was such a simple thing.

The next day was my first workday. Some other women guests and I were sent down the road to St. Joseph’s House, Madonna House’s mission house for the local area. It was a rainy day.

That evening I wrote in my journal, “Tuesday: Lots of manual labor—raking and cleaning out the chicken coop. My shoelace broke and so did the plastic raincoat I borrowed. I decided perhaps Our Lady of Combermere was trying to break me, or at least rake me! And collect me for compost. But out of my crumbs, life comes. I find it very profound that absolutely nothing is wasted here.”

The days went by. No television, no cell phone, no Internet, no computer, no music, no distractions. It was like a detox center for modern culture.

I could hear myself think—a dangerous prospect! I wasn’t sure I liked what I heard inside, but at the same time, I knew that at Madonna House I wouldn’t be able to run. I would have to stop and deal with things, and I wanted that.

Poverty, chastity, and obedience: these are the promises the staff make. But, in a sense, so do the guests while they are at Madonna House.

There is the poverty of living in dormitories with very little personal space, of using outhouses during the day, of one shower a week. There is also the poverty of not choosing your work assignment, your schedule, the people you work with, or what you eat. The poverty of Madonna House is so multi-faceted that you are guaranteed to find something that, God-willing, will drive you to prayer and to your spiritual director.

Often it is the obedience intrinsic to all of the above that is itself the greatest poverty.
Obedience? I remember being struck by the humility of the leaders of the community, by their serving tables and taking orders from someone else during dishes.

“Servants of the servants of God.” This is the kind of leadership I saw in Madonna House, and this impressed me. Their obedience made sense out of the obedience that was asked of me. These leaders gave me a model I desired to imitate.

As for chastity, having lived “in the world” a while, it was a distinct relief and joy for me to discover a community where men and women lived together simply as brother and sister. Prior to Madonna House, I had begun to think this was impossible, and this discouraged me. It had seemed to me more and more, even in Catholic circles (and sometimes especially in Catholic circles), that it was difficult to be kind to a member of the opposite sex without it having some sort of repercussion.

But at Madonna House, I was proven wrong. The men were friendly, gracious, and encouraging. They opened doors for the ladies and served. And there was with no ulterior motive? Truly, I thought to myself, God is in this place.

What I discovered in Madonna House, during the span of a week, and even more when I returned for a longer stay, was a gospel way of life, a place where people not only talk about the Gospel, but also strive to incarnate it in the nitty-gritty of their daily lives.

It is a “messy” incarnation; it doesn’t always look good or feel good. And, because we are imperfect, it is often imperfectly done. But that’s all right, or at least I am learning that it’s all right.

 In my inability to live the Gospel as I desire to, I discover how poor I am, but I also discover God’s love. For I discover that, though I am poor, God still loves me. It is, in fact, this very poverty that draws me closer to him. This poverty is the gateway to his heart, if one but has the eyes to see it.

In October 2005, not long after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita and Wilma and the horrible earthquake in Pakistan, I had the opportunity to share with a group of teenagers the story I have just shared with you.

Struck by the fact that so many people had had the physical foundations of their lives ripped apart, I spoke to these teenagers about the importance of building their lives on a foundation that will last.

Citing Christ’s words in Luke 6:47-49 where he speaks of two houses, one built on sand and the other on rock, I challenged them to really look at their lives, and to ask themselves the following questions: What is the foundation of my life? What am I building my life on—things that will last, or things that hurricanes or earthquakes can rip away?

As for me, the foundations of my life were crumbling in 2002, and I knew it. It was “God’s way or the highway,” and I don’t think I could have survived the highway!

I thank God and Our Lady for leading me to Madonna House and to my vocation, which is Madonna House.

Now a staff worker in my second year under promises, I realize that this same poverty, chastity, and obedience which drew me as a guest continues to draw me ever more to the poor One, the chaste One, the obedient One, the One who is the only true foundation for anyone’s life: Christ himself.

What is Madonna House? Come and see (Jn 1:39).