DePaul faculty and staff, please join us for our annual Lunch with Louise honoring the life and legacy of St. Vincent de Paul’s great friend and collaborator, St. Louise de Marillac. This year, we are delighted to have as our featured guests Deans Stephanie Dance-Barnes, Martine Kei Greene-Rogers and Jennifer Mueller, Deans of the College of Science and Health, The Theatre School and the College of Education. We look forward to these university leaders gathering for a spirited dialogue about the challenges and rewards of their jobs as well as sharing how DePaul’s Vincentian mission has helped inform and guide their work at DePaul (and beyond) and their visions for the future. Please join us!
As part of Louise Week, the DePaul community is invited to celebrate the Feast Day of Saint Louise de Marillac with special campus Masses and a shared lunch. Join us in honoring her life of compassion, courage, and commitment to those most in need.
Join us for our 4th Annual VinnyGames for faculty and staff! Come to The Ray to build community and play games (no athletic ability required!) Make connections and have fun! Food and prizes are included. Feel free to just drop by or stay the entire time. Either way, we hope to see you!
The DePaul community is invited to welcome a new publication by Matthieu Brejon de Lavergnée, Beyond Frontiers: History of the Daughters of Charity. This book is rooted in our Vincentian mission and explores how generations of women shaped education, healthcare, and social justice through lives of faith and service.
Please Note…
Join us in a moment of quiet prayer for DePaul and our President
prior to his testimony before Congress.
Wednesday, May 7th 8:45 AM -9:00 AM
Lincoln Park: St. Louise de Marillac Chapel (Student Center, 1st Floor) Loop: Miraculous Medal Chapel (DePaul Center, 1st Floor)
Sadly, we have learned of the death of Dr. Hung-Chi Ku, Associate Professor of Mathematical Sciences.He passed away on April 26, at the age of 53.Dr. Hu joined the faculty at DePaul in 2015 and was granted tenure in 2024.
Written By: Rachelle Kramer, D.Min., Director, Catholic Campus Ministry
Each morning as I begin a new day, I find myself glancing at my phone and wondering what terrible headlines await on my news app. What denigrating actions have those in power taken today? What vulnerable populations are being targeted? My stomach churns, and I usually decide to postpone my quick perusal of headlines until after my morning routine, to begin the day on a more positive, if not hopeful, note. Moderating my intake of the news cycle has become an essential and necessary step to maintain my emotional and spiritual well-being these days, and I know I am not alone. These are, indeed, incredibly challenging and, dare I say, unprecedented times.
When I notice myself despairing and doomscrolling, I find it helpful to look to other inspiring figures who have also lived through challenging circumstances. One such individual—whom we celebrate at DePaul this week—is Saint Louise de Marillac, companion of Saint Vincent, co-founder of the Daughters of Charity, and trailblazer in her own time. Though living in a different era, Louise’s context in seventeenth-century France was also wrought with complexity and difficulty: wars, extreme poverty, political turmoil, and famine, to name a few. Not only that, Louise suffered tremendously in her life. An “illegitimate” child, Louise never knew her mother, and her father died when she was fifteen. Estranged from her family, she was denied admission to the convent (something she deeply desired), possessed frail health, had a son with special needs, and lost her husband in her early thirties.
Despite these challenges, Louise did not sit on the sidelines. Surrounded by overwhelming suffering and poverty, she got to work. Alongside her companion, Vincent, Louise used her tremendous leadership and organizational capabilities to found a religious community that, in a mere few decades, took charge of hospitals in Paris and the surrounding provinces; provided shelter for abandoned children, creating a whole new method of child care; oversaw ministries to the galley convicts; created a charitable warehouse that saved 193 villages during a period of famine; and started free elementary schools for girls in the Paris archdiocese, a stunning accomplishment during that time. [1]
How in the world did Louise accomplish all of this, given the many challenges and obstacles she must have faced, especially as a woman living in the 1600s? Without question, she was extremely gifted. But there is more to the story. Louise spoke often of her faith in God as her grounding for the work she did. Her spirituality was deeply shaped by the centrality of the Jesus crucified. [2] Having suffered tremendously in her own life, Louise had great compassion for those who experienced suffering, and she felt called to help alleviate it. In forming her community, she, “sought to fix the eyes of her Daughters on the suffering of Christ as the one whom they served in the poor.” [3] Thus, author Louise Sullivan describes Louise as, “a mystic with her feet solidly planted on the ground.” [4] How I love that image! She was a woman who lived in the world, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work, but that work was only possible because she was deeply rooted in something beyond herself—her faith. And it was that faith that provided the wellspring to continue doing the difficult work.
If there is anything we can learn from Louise during our present-day challenges, I believe it is this: we, too, can be “mystics with our feet solidly planted on the ground.” While we at DePaul do not all ascribe to Louise’s Christian faith, I do believe that we, too, need a well to draw from that is bigger than ourselves so that we can both persevere and take the actions needed during these troubling times. For some, that well is called God. For others, it is named in a sense of spirituality, or the interconnectedness of all humanity, or the inner conviction that living a life committed to justice, solidarity, and selflessness is worth living. Whatever that well is for you, hold fast to that. Be a mystic by taking time to pray, reflect, meditate, or sit in silence (lose the phone!)—whatever you need to tap into that Reality. We need this reservoir to get us through.
May the example of Louise inspire us to stay grounded in something beyond ourselves, to act, and to move forward in hope.
Questions for Reflection:
Are there any changes I might make to my daily routine that will help me remain grounded during this unsettling time?
What practice or practices would help me connect with that higher Reality?
[1] Louise Sullivan, “Louise de Marillac: A Spiritual Portrait” in Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac: Rules, Conferences, and Writing, ed. Frances Ryan and John E. Rybolt (New York: Paulist Press, 1995), 49–57.
Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute
Photo by Chaewul Kim
When you are always striving for something, it’s easy to think that what you are doing is not enough and to internalize things that reinforce that view. Although I am not Catholic, I attended 8 years of Catholic school, which required me to take several theology classes and reflect on the Bible. One of the verses that stuck with me was Matthew 5:48, which is one that perfectionists of all faiths or beliefs may find affecting or even disturbing. It reads, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” [1] As Vincent de Paul himself very relatably said, “That’s aiming high; who can reach it? To be perfect as the Eternal Father is perfect!” [2] This seems like an impossible standard, and it has troubled me for a long time. So, I began to research the verse.
It turns out that this is one of the most mistranslated and misinterpreted verses of the Bible. The Greek word that has been translated as “perfect” is teleios, which means “complete” or “mature.” Scholar Bonnie Bowman Thurston notes that the verse, which occurs within the context of loving one’s enemies, indicates a “perfection in love” that “contemplates all persons alike from the standpoint of God.” It is a call for “observable dedication to certain qualities of conduct. Perfection . . . does ‘not imply complete sinlessness and full virtue as matters of fact.’” [3] She adds that “perfection is not a completed state of being; it is not an abstraction. It is the person of Jesus whom we grow toward and follow after in order to complete or mature ourselves. Our perfection is, in modern parlance, ‘in process.’” [4]
Vincent had a similar insight. He observed, “Whom can we call perfect? No one on this earth. . . . Anyone who strives to know himself well will see many weaknesses and failings in himself, and will even acknowledge that he can’t help having them.” [5] He defined perfection as growing in holiness, which meant aligning a person’s will to God’s and imitating Christ’s behavior as much as possible. [6] Under this definition, we are always supposed to be striving, but we gain righteousness through God’s love, not through our own effort. In earthly life, the striving, the effort itself, is perfection because it’s as close as we can get to being like God.
You don’t have to be Christian or even believe in God to take comfort in the advice that Vincent gave his followers about pursuing perfection. He said, “True, solid holiness consists in this: doing well what you do.” [7] In a later conference he qualified it, adding the phrase “as far as our human weakness . . . allows.” [8] That is liberating for perfectionists. It is enough that we try our best while recognizing and accepting that we have limitations.
Reflection Questions:
What does it mean to “do well what you do” within the context of your work at DePaul?
How does your work contribute to your overall efforts to pursue goodness? If you’re a perfectionist, what are some ways in which taking stock of these efforts allows you to be gentler to yourself in self-assessments?
Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute
[6] For more on these ideas, see conference 180, “Observance of the Rules,” May 17, 1658, ibid., 12:2n5; conference 143, “Repetition of Prayer,” October 17, 1655, ibid., 11:286. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/; and conference 196, “Members of the Congregation and their Ministries (Common Rules, Chap. 1, Art. 2 and 3),” December 13, 1658, ibid., 12:93.
Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center
Photo by Mike Labrum, Unsplash.com
“I believe that you work with one another to grow in perfection in keeping with the divine plan. All the actions of our lives can serve this purpose even those which might appear destined to withdraw you from that intimate union with God which you so ardently desire. Very often this union is established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God and not as we would wish to imagine it.” — Louise de Marillac[1]
When I began my role at DePaul in the summer of 2017, I was excited but also nervous. As an associate director, I felt responsible to represent the Writing Center well. As I started attending meetings with people from departments across campus, I felt intimidated; everyone knew so much and knew one another quite well. What could I contribute to this tight-knit community as someone so new, practically still an outsider?
Fast forward to autumn quarter 2024, which was perhaps my busiest quarter to date in my time at DePaul. Now in my eighth academic year, I found this quarter offered numerous ways in which I could readily contribute as part of the vibrant DePaul community: teaching two courses on top of my full-time staff role, serving as chair of the Communication Committee for Staff Council, and completing training as a staff professional for FY@broad with Study Abroad. While these commitments meant significant time and seemingly innumerable meetings and tasks added to my calendar, they also shared something else in common. These opportunities, alongside my daily work in the Writing Center collaborating with colleagues and supporting our student employees, were purposefully busy.
I define purposefully busy as those tasks that are more than productivity; rather, they are people-centered activities that enable me to serve others through the work. All the while, I, too, am being fed through my interactions with students, faculty, and staff who offer care and collaboration. As Saint Louise de Marillac says in the quote above, we must work with one another to fulfill our purposes.
In my life outside of work, I was experiencing emotional difficulty during autumn quarter. I walked through the final denouement of a long-term relationship in which I’d long held hope for a shared future. The fullness of my days attending to the numerous purposes I engaged in at DePaul offered a meaningful focus, but the grief of loss lingered in the background, at times coming full force in my mind.
Then, grief showed up in perhaps its most recognizable form: on November 5, my Uncle Roger died. It was the day of the presidential election, a fraught, precipitous day for each of us, and all I could think was “My uncle died today.” While he had been in ill health for quite some time, it was one of those times where things moved quickly, in a matter of days, from hospice care to his passing. My uncle and his immediate family live in northeast Ohio; my closest family members live in the suburbs of Chicago. So, on a weekday, it wasn’t feasible to be together. I didn’t have anyone in the immediate vicinity or in the schedule of my day to hug me. I was deeply sad and felt rather alone.
But when grief shows up, so, too, does love.
In the days following my uncle’s passing, I shared with colleagues about the loss; I received more than one hug. I even shared with one of my classes, and a room full of students offered looks and words of compassion and comfort. On November 13, I attended the Gathering of Remembrance hosted by the Division of Mission and Ministry. While I feel like a well-connected DePaul community member at this point, this was the first time I had attended. I’d considered going in past years but hadn’t been able to fit it into my schedule. This year also required some schedule adjustment to make it work, but now that I was experiencing loss, this special event came just when I needed it most.
At the event, I saw many faces I know and many I have come to cherish. Most were people from various parts of my “extra-curricular” life at DePaul, that is, not part of my official job description in the Writing Center but connected to me through engagement in our community. The staff members from Mission and Ministry hosted the event with such reverence, grace, and hospitality. The love in the room, even amid our tears, was palpable and comforting. At that point, I hadn’t yet seen anyone in my family since my uncle’s passing, but there I was surrounded by my Vincentian family nonetheless.
My purposefully busy autumn quarter ended with great fulfillment for me. My students were largely successful in their courses, and grades have been submitted. The Communications Committee of Staff Council has collaboratively published three newsletters to date. The training for FY@broad is complete, and I am ready to begin winter quarter with preparing an intrepid group of students for our trip to Ireland over spring break. I continued therapy and reflection, and my heart has started to recover. I said yes to the beautiful invitation for community when faced with loss.
The people within my Vincentian family and the DePaul community are the throughline—the accompaniment we offer to one another is beyond what I ever could have imagined when I first came here. It must be, as Saint Louise believed, that our unions to God and to one another are “… established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God.” God knew what he was doing in bringing me to DePaul and in bringing the DePaul community to flourish in my life.
Considerations for Reflection:
How is being purposefully busy different from just being busy? Do you see yourself engaging in being purposefully busy?
How have you experienced love in times of grief?
Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center
Written by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute
Photograph by Akhil Nath.
Our mission here at DePaul focuses on helping others, especially those who have been historically underserved—the poor and the marginalized. It’s a wonderful mission, a noble mission. But I wonder how many of us also need help, and if we do, whether we are able to ask for it. Our own situations may not be as serious as those our mission calls us to aid, and we may not need advocacy or material support. But it’s likely that we need other things—assistance with work projects, perhaps, or, in our personal lives, help with caregiving, or managing burnout, depression, or grief. “Let me know how I can help,” we say when others are in trouble. But when we’re on the receiving end of such offers, we often don’t take people up on them.
In her book The Gifts of Imperfection, professor and social worker Brené Brown writes, “One of the greatest barriers to connection is the cultural importance we place on ‘going it alone.’ Somehow we’ve come to equate success with not needing anyone.” She continues, “Until we can receive with an open heart, we are never really giving with an open heart. When we attach judgment to receiving help, we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help.” Brown argues that it’s a mistake to “deriv[e] self-worth from never needing help and always offering it.” [1]
In reading Brown’s words, I was struck by how well they connect with the philosophy of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. Its founder, Frédéric Ozanam, once said that help “humiliates when there is no reciprocity” and “becomes honorable because it may become mutual.” [2] Ozanam and Brown argue that help has a spiritual value beyond what is provided by immediate assistance. It allows people to connect with each other (and, Ozanam would say, with God) in a profound and meaningful way. Because of this, there is as much dignity in asking for help as there is in receiving it. It’s a lesson that runs counter to our cultural expectations, but it’s an important one to remember and internalize. The next time we may be feeling overwhelmed or alone, we should consider how we might challenge ourselves to more readily ask for help.
Reflection Questions:
Is there anything that you need help with? Whom could you ask for help, and how do you think they might respond?
Can you think of situations in the past where someone has asked you for help? How did you feel about the request? Did it make you feel more connected to that person?
Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute
[1] Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are (Hazelden, 2010), 20.
We must be full reservoirs in order to let our water spill out without becoming empty, and we must possess the spirit with which we want them to be animated, for [we cannot] give what [we do] not have.[i]
There are times at DePaul when we think working in a “Vincentian” way means remaining tirelessly active, without regard to our own needs or what is actually effective. However, this is decidedly not what Vincent de Paul taught. In addition to the quote above, Vincent wrote to Louise de Marillac circa 1632, “It seems to me that you are killing yourself from the little care you take of yourself.”[ii] Their correspondence often included encouragement in both directions for tending to their mutual health and well-being.
We have learned much over the past couple of years about the importance of self-care and of remaining healthy. The pandemic has forced us to reconsider and reflect on work-life balance norms and habits as well as what it means to work effectively.
There are many ways in which hyper-activity can be harmful to us individually and as a university community. Sound decision-making and the fostering of innovation are far more difficult when we are tired or feeling burned out. We are also much less likely to cultivate the quality relationships that make for a supportive environment and that reflect hospitality and care for others, both of which are so essential to the “Vincentian personalism” we value. We may lose touch with the deeper sense of meaning and purpose that motivates our work. Furthermore, workaholism and the absence of self-care can accentuate an ego-driven pride within us about working longer and harder than everyone around us—and this serves no one in the end. When we are always busy, what we are modeling to others, particularly the students we seek to educate and serve?
In contrast to such a worker-bee mentality, Vincent’s image of the reservoir may serve us well. Sustained and quality work during busy times often requires us to “dig deep,” and therefore it is essential that we maintain healthy reserves to draw from. Our relationships are vital sources of energy and support when we face vexing problems, and therefore cultivating friendships and collegial networks is a life habit that makes our work more effective and sustainable. We might also imagine the life-giving reservoir replenished by remaining connected to a shared sense of mission or purpose through regular moments of reflection.
As we come to the end of the summer months, the intensity of our work and task lists are no doubt beginning to build up again as we approach the new academic year. Might we transition into the fall with a plan to integrate self-care, relationships, and ongoing reflection? Perhaps we might even work together with others to shape our collective organizational culture in a way that models these things, thus benefitting all in our community, including the students we serve.
One thing will remain certain: any mission worth working toward is not a solo act. We will achieve it only by regularly renewing ourselves through rest, reflection, and friendship—and with some intentionality these things can certainly extend well beyond the summer weeks!
What is a regular habit of rest or reflection that can enrich your ability to be creative and to remain energized in the workplace?
How might you integrate the cultivation of relationships more intentionally in and through your work?
What might you do—even for a few minutes a day—to remain rooted in and nourished by a deeper sense of the mission and purpose that sustains your work?
Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Assoc. VP, Mission and Ministry
There is great joy to be found in working as a community of people who are dedicated to serving others; it is both humbling and inspiring to see the depth of genuine care and commitment. With so much good being done, how do we ensure it is being done well? One answer is self-care.
When we are at our best, we maximize our impact. Selflessness—putting the needs of others ahead of our own needs—seems like a virtue. But isn’t it more laudable to increase our impact by taking care of ourselves so that we are able to serve others to the best of our ability?
Self-care is not selfish, it is essential; it is not a luxury, it is a necessity. As Vincent de Paul said, “We must be full reservoirs in order to let our water spill out without becoming empty, and we must possess the spirit with which we want them to be animated, for no one can give what he does not have [emphasis added].”[1]
We are served best by a balanced and individual approach to wellness, as self-care will vary for every person. Start with eating well and getting enough hydration, sleep, and movement in your day. Layer in fresh air, human connection, creative expression, communication, learning, and reflection.
Spend some time considering what you need to be your best self, and then commit to it. If it is difficult, post reminders that taking care of yourself means you can better serve others.
What will help you be better? Read a book. Write a letter. Walk among the trees. Meditate. Sing a song. Play a game. Get enough sleep. Eat more plants. Tell a joke. Share a personal goal with a friend. Dance to a favorite song. Drink enough water. Take a yoga class. Compliment others. Compliment yourself. Go for a swim. Donate your time or money. Hike a trail. Express gratitude. Listen deeply. Watch the clouds. Ask for help. Write a poem. Learn something. Call a friend. And, maybe, exercise at The Ray!
Reflection by: Maureen McGonagle, Director of Campus Recreation and the Ray Meyer Fitness Center, and a serving DePaul Mission Ambassador
Care for Yourself: DePaul Busy Person’s Online Retreat. Week of February 21st.
Life can be exceptionally busy and overwhelming, moving at an ever-accelerating pace, leaving you wondering if you can keep up or how you can remain grounded and at peace in the midst of the constant shifts and challenges coming at you. During the week of February 21st, the DePaul Busy Person’s Retreat will offer daily 15-minute reflections, inspired by our Vincentian tradition, exploring the richness of intentional time for pause, for meditation, and silence in the midst of the noise and busy-ness. We hope that you’ll find new meaning, tools, and inspiration to anchor your life and work, to deepen your understanding of yourself and your community, and to re-connect to what brings you peace. REGISTER NOW.
As a child growing up in London, before I would head out to school, my mother would often seek to entice us to finish up our breakfast by saying, “Eat up all of your breakfast before you leave. You’ll need energy for the day. It’s like a car; if you don’t give it petrol it can’t run.” Her words still give me pause for reflection these many years.
Where do we find sustenance for life?
In our time the importance of self-care is frequently emphasized. It makes sense. If you don’t take care of your body, mind, and spirit, how can they take care of you?
During their time, in their own way, both Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac embraced such seeds of wisdom. Because their ministry could certainly take a toll and came at a personal cost, these longtime, caring friends sometimes challenged each other and their communities to take a step back to replenish dwindling reserves. Indeed, as Vincent himself knew, “[I]t’s impossible for us to produce good results if we’re like dry land that yields only thistles.”1 After all, “no one can give what he [or she] does not have.”2
How will you replenish your reservoir this summer? As we combat a global pandemic, this question seems all the more poignant now in light of what has been, and continues to be, one of the most challenging periods in living history.
How are you being invited to nurture your mind, body, and spirit? And how will you recharge the spirit within yourself that invites all to flourish? The invitation awaits. How will you respond?
As dawn replaces darkness in Chicago and lake effect clouds rise, patrons stand on cold pavement six feet apart to order hot coffee along quasi-empty streets with boarded-up businesses. The wind bites customers who shiver as they stand waiting under the gloomy sky. What do they recall about this time last year? What has changed?
Filled with nostalgia, memories may surface of bustling commerce and camaraderie—the simple enjoyments of life prior to COVID19. Then we lived with some predictability, although our sensitivities were numbed by expectations entrenched in the social constructs of yesteryear. We had hoped a new era would be more kind, just, equitable and inclusive, but life changed unexpectedly. An invisible enemy destroyed normalcy. Forced to separate, isolate, quarantine, and trace contacts, an unknown adversary began to shatter families, relationships, and communities, forcing us to acknowledge our vulnerability. Swiftly, security morphed into insecurity and anxiety, heightened by fear of the deadly danger. Modern society is neither the first nor will be the last to respond to such a challenge. Nevertheless, uncertainty and dread have bred inescapable apprehension.
“There is nothing that bothers me more than uncertainty,” acknowledged Vincent de Paul, who was keenly aware of the unpredictability of life changing events and their impact on individuals and families.(1) Louise de Marillac encountered victims of the plague in France, prompting her to advise the Daughters of Charity to “take good care of yourself amid the great dangers.”(2) She imposed travel restrictions in one town and reported that the Sisters there had “stopped the visiting of the sick and the schools.”(3)
As a Vincentian community gathered for the sake of the mission, we are called to care for one another and ourselves. In order to overcome quarantine fatigue, “we must go forward without becoming discouraged.”(4) We need to acknowledge our current reality of living during a global pandemic. Louise knew the value of self-care: “I have great need of a few days to think about myself and be renewed.”(5) As those patrons who sip their morning coffee and savor the aroma, recall Vincentian wisdom: “Take good care of your health.”(6) “Health is the most precious treasure of life.”(7)
Take care of yourself. Take care of one another. Take Care DePaul!
Reflection Questions
How do I respond when dark clouds besiege my life?
What enables me to summon the courage to go forward?
What must I do for optimum self-care, or to be renewed?
1) 175, Vincent de Paul to Louise de Marillac, CCD, 1:240.
2) 411, Vincent de Paul to Louise de Marillac, 12 [December] 1639, CCD, 1:595-6.
3) Ibid.
4) 1307, Vincent de Paul to René Alméras, (3 January 1651), CCD, 138-40.
5) L.4, Louise de Marillac to Vincent de Paul, 4 September c. 1634, Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 10.
6) 411, Vincent de Paul to Louise de Marillac, 12 [December] 1639, CCD, 1:595-6.
7) A.92, (On the Duties of the Motherhouse), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 810.
I have never felt the pressing need for self-care more than I do right now. Occasionally, I find myself ruminating on the state of the world. Over six months of the Covid-19 pandemic with no immediate end in sight. Urgent social justice and human rights issues in our community and country which call us to face hard truths and work for change. A bitter national election entering its final stages. All in addition to the “usual” professional and personal demands that, on their own, seem just enough for the average plate to hold. All told, this is a lot. Why is it, then, that in the face of such challenges we often forget to treat ourselves with added care and compassion?
I am not sure, but perhaps if the instructions to do so came directly from Vincent de Paul or Louise de Marillac, we might be more mindful of the practice of self-care. To be sure, this was an instruction Vincent and Louise gave many times over, as seen in their voluminous correspondence. We witness Vincent urging a priest in his community, “Please do all in your power to stay well, Monsieur, and to take better care of yourself than you have done.”1 And, writing to a Daughter of Charity, Louise was even more succinct, “Take care of yourself, for the love of God…” she implored her.2
To borrow a contemporary phrase, Vincent and Louise were “creating space” for their community members to recognize their limitations and attend to their needs. Undoubtedly, they were motivated by genuine concern for them, but Vincent and Louise also knew that unless a person takes care of themselves, they will be in no position to take care of others. And, caring for others—especially the sick, the orphaned, the marginalized and poor—has been the mission of Vincentian communities since their beginnings.
For some of us, taking time for self-care may never be easy. But, it is so important! Maybe realizing the connection between our own self-care and how it affects our ability to care for others will help. Or maybe simply remembering that our patrons, Vincent and Louise, believed in self-care will be enough to make us believe in its importance, too.
Sit for a few moments in peace and quiet and ask yourself how, if at all, you may be feeling depleted? What can you do to replenish yourself? Acts of self-care may be big, or they may be small. How might you be called, in big ways or small, to care for yourself these days?
1 2905, To Louis Rivet, Superior, In Saintes, 13 July 1659, CCD, 8:31.
2 L.58B, To Sister Élisabeth Martin, 7 August (1641), Spiritual Writings, 56.
Reflection by: Tom Judge, Chaplain, Mission and Ministry
Have you shared your input on the Review of the DePaul Mission Statement?
During the current academic year, the Mission Committee of the Board of Trustees is undergoing a formal review of the statement. DePaul faculty, staff, students and alumni are encouraged to participate by sharing their input related to their understanding of DePaul’s mission, how it is reflected in the existing mission statement, and lived in practice. Please take a moment to provide your feedback through this survey.