The phone rang, and the moment I picked up, a voice burst through the line with infectious energy:
“Aaaaallooohaaa, Raechal!”
Not exactly the quiet, solemn greeting I expected from a monastery’s prioress! But then again, nothing about Sr. C.C. was what I expected!
I had called to request a visit to the monastery, nestled in the lush beauty of Honolulu. What I didn’t realize was that I was about to meet a woman who embodied both peace and purpose—a rare combination that made me rethink what it means to live a life of faith. I expected a quiet, contemplative retreat—a place of stillness and solitude. But as I would soon discover, this monastery wasn’t just a place of prayer—it was a place of purpose, where faith and action moved hand in hand.
A Different Kind of Sacred Space

When my husband and I arrived, the monastery felt like an oasis—not just of serenity, but of motion. Monks and volunteers worked in quiet harmony, tending to the land, preparing meals, and keeping this sacred place running.
And at the center of it all was Sr. C.C.—formerly a flight attendant, now the visionary leader of this community. She greeted us in person just as she had over the phone—vibrantly. If some people ease into a conversation, she skydives into it, full of energy and purpose, pulling you into her world before you even have a chance to catch your breath.
At first, I thought I was just using a figure of speech. But then she casually mentioned one of her favorite pastimes—actual skydiving. The same woman who leads a peaceful monastic life also jumps out of planes for fun. And honestly, it made perfect sense. Everything about her exuded a sense of boldness—a deep trust that whether she was launching herself into the sky or into a new idea, she’d be caught by something greater than herself.
Where Healing and Hard Work Meet
As we walked the monastery grounds, it became clear that healing wasn’t something passive here. The monastery wasn’t just a place to escape—it was a place to restore. Every part of the land, every task, every moment was infused with purpose. The community worked together not just to maintain the monastery, but to create an environment where people could step into a different rhythm—one that allowed both reflection and renewal.

Sr. C.C. spoke passionately about how important it was that guests not only find peace but also have the space and support they need to heal. That healing looked different for everyone—some found it in quiet contemplation, others in working alongside the community, contributing to something bigger than themselves. Faith here wasn’t just about stillness. It was about movement. About trust. About taking the leap, even when you don’t know exactly where you’ll land.
A Final Aloha and an Invitation
Before we left, Sr. C.C. gave me one last exuberant “Aaaaaalloooohaaa!”—a farewell, but also an invitation. An invitation to bring that same energy into my own life.
So now, I’ll pass that invitation on to you: Where in your life do you need both peace and purpose? How can you create a space—not just to retreat, but to restore?
From my heart to yours
Until next time
Raechal!
(I’d love to hear your thoughts—drop a comment below! 💛)

Great post! Sr. C.C. sounds like a hoot! ✈️