I spent the first week of Advent at St. Andrew’s Abbey, the Benedictine monastery in the unincorporated community of Valyermo (Spanish: “Barren Valley”) located an hour and half northeast of LA in the Mojave Desert.

My history with St. Andrew’s goes way back. In 2000, four years after I came into the Church, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Who to turn to? How to face my mortality? Where to pray?

At the time I was barely acquainted with the “retreat” concept, but to get away by myself in silence and solitude proved to be a tremendous balm.

Without knowing much of monasticism, I was nonetheless drawn by the abbey’s generous spirit, bountiful table, and stunning natural beauty: the cottonwoods, Joshua trees, and chamisa; the deep blue sky; the birds.

It was at St. Andrews that I first learned of the Liturgy of the Hours aka The Divine Office, and that laypeople were also invited to pray the psalms and scripture readings throughout the day.

In the desert, and afterward with the guidance of spiritual advisors, I decided how to approach my cancer—a decision about which I wrote an entire book. Suffice it to say, I’m still alive and thanks be to God.

Over the years I made many other retreats at St. Andrews: some guided—”he Contemplative Life,” “An Introduction to the Desert Fathers”—but most of them private: three days here, four there. Grieving, I limped to the abbey alone for the Christmas of 2012, the year my mother died.

I never much intruded on the monks, but as I aged, they aged; and if they didn’t know me, they nonetheless became dear to me.   

Slowly the idea took root to become an oblate at St. Andrews. “Oblates of Saint Benedict are Christian men and women who strive to live in the secular world according to the spirit of the Rule of St. Benedict. They are not monks or nuns, but they draw inspiration from the Rule and from their ongoing affiliation with a particular Benedictine community for the task of living out the Gospel of Christ in their families and workplaces.”

The vows are of Stability, Reformation (Conversion) of Life, and Obedience.

I started the process in early 2019, attended several meetings, and met a couple of times one-on-one with Fr. Francis Benedict, my advisor. Early the next year came COVID, lockdown, and the disruption of life as we knew it.

My passion to become on Oblate didn’t die out but it simmered for a couple of years on a back burner. It reignited this past summer, during three months that I spent in Ireland.

How I long for a “spiritual home!” I was recently granted Irish citizenship through my paternal grandmother and though Ireland is a wondrous land, it’s not my land. I have roots there but it’s not my deepest home.

I grew up on the coast of New Hampshire, a place that is forever deep, deep in my heart.

But Southern California, if anywhere, is my home. I was confirmed and took my First Communion at the Church of the Blessed Sacrament on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. I quit my job as a lawyer to follow my vocation as a writer in LA. I’ve written for the Archdiocese for almost ten years.

Part of my commitment as an Oblate would be to pray in spiritual communion with the monks, wherever I might be: Vigils at 6 am, followed by a period of lectio divina, then Lauds at 7:30, Mass at noon, Vespers at 5 and Compline at 7:30.

I live alone and work alone and though I have a fairly serious prayer life, it’s kind of on my time and my schedule. I want to give all of myself but I also want to research this painter, or film, or book right now! I want to let my mind wander and explore this very interesting moral dilemma. I want to look at the birds and give thanks. There’s nothing wrong, at all, with any of that.

But if we want to give all of ourselves maybe the deepest thing we can give, especially those of us in the West, is our schedule.

On December 8, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I was “invested” as an Oblate Novice. If all goes well, in a year or so I’ll take final vows.

On a hill above the Abbey is a cemetery where the monks are buried. To the side is a section for Oblates. 

I climbed that hill often during my Advent visit. Surveying the surrounding hills, I kept thinking about how, the very first time I came on retreat at St. Andrew’s, what struck me was Compline: the last “hour” of the day.

The beautiful old-school hymns: “Day is done, but love unfailing dwells ever here.” The Canticle of Simeon: “Lord, now you let your servant go…your word has been fulfilled” The Salve Regina. A sprinkling with holy water before we leave and pass our separate ways in the dark.

The monks’ blessing reverberating in my heart that first night and, as it’s happened, through the years:

“May the all-powerful Lord grant us a restful night and a peaceful death.”


  1. Mary Flanagan says: Reply

    Thank you so much for describing your experience at St Andrews. That touched on an interest within me and I’m sure many other people…. And now I’m going to look up what the vow of Stability means.

    1. HEATHER KING says: Reply

      Yes, it’s interesting…stability coupled with an ongoing openness to change…doesn’t mean you can never move, obviously…

  2. Ingrid Christensen says: Reply

    Heather, I am thankful that you never stop pursuing God’s will for your life. God bless you, and Merry Christmas. Ingrid

  3. Colleen Llamas says: Reply

    May you have a blessed Christmas and a joyous 2024. I was surprised about you joining the Benedictine oblate, I thought you would join the third order of Carmelites. The book you wrote on St Therese was very insightful . Thank you for being a shining light in our beautiful faith.
    Colleen from San Diego

  4. Kellie Newland says: Reply

    I Cheer you on the path forward! A few years ago I went on a 3 day “retreat” in the Colorado mountains, taking with me a pile of books I wanted to read. One book I just threw in the pile was “The Rule of St Benedict” (By Fry). I attended mass during my personal retreat and learned that it was the feast day of St Benedict. After mass I stopped into a jewelry store to look over antique pieces and collectibles. My eye was immediately drawn to an old medal that the designer had turned into a lovely necklace. As I looked at the medal carefully, you guessed it, it was St Benedict’s medal. Of course, I bought it instantly. The message was too much to ignore… look at the rules, Kellie. Open your heart to this life.

    Ah, I’m so happy for you.

  5. Anonymous says: Reply

    St. Andrews Abbey is a very special place!

  6. HEATHER KING says: Reply

    Thanks and blessings to you all; I so appreciate the good wishes.

    From Esther de Waal’s “Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict”: “Benedictine balance and modertation…is no easy middle way. It does not mean playing afe; it is no recipe for mediocrity. On the contrarary, it is extremely demanding…What the Benedictine life can show us is the possibility of keeping equilibrium in the midst of polarity. The monk lives constantly at the point of tension between stability and change; between tradition and the future; between the personal and community; between obedience and initiative; between the desert and the marketplace; between action and contemplation. Yet this is in fact nothing more and nothing less than the paradox of the Christian life itself”…

    So I have my work cut out for me…Hallelujah.


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