My initial reaction to Matthew West’s latest single "Modest is Hottest" was amusement. Although I love his music, I didn’t quite understand why the lyrics needed to carry a legalistic grip to convey the message on modesty. Besides, the word "hot" is burdened with sexual undertones and only serves to objectify women, in a different way. Having served young people for more than a decade now, I can safely say that this pietistic approach to modesty will only escalate shame, seeing our bodies as sources of temptation that must be hidden, rather than what they truly are. Clearly, there is a chasm. Clearly, we are struggling to convey truth in a post-modern, godless culture. How do we celebrate the female body without objectifying women? In the midst of this moral wasteland, how do we practice modesty? The Language Of Clothing I have always loved fashion and have fond childhood memories playing dress up with my sister and admiring my mother’s chic fashion tastes. My journey to modest fashion, however, took on new meaning only after my conversion. I fell away from Faith and chose atheism in high school, when I needed it the most. The turbulence at home, combined with an anemic faith, propelled me to choose "pretty" and "cool" without a moral compass. I slid down the slippery slope of immodesty and promiscuity, and my identity crisis showed up in my clothing. With constant battles that left me feeling undesirable and unlovable, I was dressing for attention and drowning out my pain with addictions. Today, as Christ continues to heal my self-worth, I am able to see gaps that result from a fragmented view of God. My broken lens altered the way I saw my body. Just like other material objects, fashion became an undue attachment to fill a cavernous void within. I was chasing imitation beauty and settling just to "fit in." Pope Pius XII says: Society reveals what it is by the clothes it wears. There is a language of clothing that communicates messages and reveals secret aspirations that can either build or destroy our future. Over the years I have learned to ask: What message does this outfit carry? Why do I want to be validated by the world’s standards? Why don’t I want to be free from vanity, and the all-too-common “look at me!” attitude? Worth, Not Wardrobe For a long time, I saw modesty as a pseudonym for unattractiveness. Following my conversion, I encountered self-appointed modesty police furtively checking what everyone was wearing. Many were women. I remember emptying my entire wardrobe and settling for "traditional" attires lest I looked too "unspiritual." Though Modesty is often presented as adherence to a legalistic set of rules, it is so much more. The Catechism affirms: Modesty protects the intimate center of the person. // CCC 2521 Modesty adorns our bodies in a way that reflects who we really are: living tabernacles and temples of the Holy Spirit. We are the crown of creation. And, we are beloved daughters of the Creator of authentic beauty. All the emphasis on do’s and don’ts can miss a fundamental mark. Modesty is less about an item of clothing than it is about virtue. Our worth does not come from wardrobes, but from God. Our inherent identity in Christ is what gives us dignity and direction and it begins first with our interior self, the inner sanctum of our hearts. Do I see myself as God’s beloved, beautiful and worthy of love? Under pressure how many of us compare ourselves with others and lose touch with who we are? Rather than celebrating our uniqueness, how many of us covet only to lose joy? When we lose our identity, our lifestyle choices are the first to be derailed. Clothing is not meant to be only about us. We could be dressed with the right credentials, covered by the latest fashion and yet be enslaved. If anything, modest clothing should serve as a reminder that we are sacred, that we made for more and that we exist for influence and impact. [bctt tweet="Modesty adorns our bodies in a way that reflects who we really are: living tabernacles and temples of the Holy Spirit. #BISblog //" via="no"] Modesty Inspires True Masculinity Being a long-standing ministry leader, it is no secret that I have had to deal with issues concerning inappropriate clothing. Even today, so many women see dress and devotion as contradictory. As Catholic women, we need to challenge the status quo that portrays a scantily clad, inordinately thin woman as confident. And we need to challenge men to see themselves as reflections of imago dei. The journey to a safer, more whole society requires the morality of both men and women. I have encountered men in ministry who have been won over to faith by the modesty and lifestyles of their girl friends. These women carried an aura of grace that directly pointed to the light within, driving out their darkness and helping their male peers admire and love the female body for its sacredness. They testified of a beauty that was radiating when women carried themselves with a sense of interior peace, confident in who they were and who didn’t need to play up to modern media to demonstrate their worth. A Two-Way-Street of Demand Pope Saint John Paul II rightly declared: Genuine Love is demanding, but its beauty lies precisely in the demands it makes. Far contrary to the culture that asserts that a man’s lust is his problem, it is modesty that saves, sustains, and sanctifies. It is modesty that fosters dignity in the other person. It is modesty that wills the good of the other. It is modesty that inspires true masculinity and it is modesty that produces mature love. A man knows he can take a woman seriously when she isn’t occupied with her body or clamoring for his attention with external adornments. Such humility is powerful. It is freeing. How can we expect anyone to respect us and even love us heroically if we do not offer ourselves the grace and dignity we deserve? Modern Day Influencers But just like faith, style that elevates true femininity is a journey. Fashion will change over time and so will our bodies. We need a vision beyond the here and now. We are made for so much more than attire and adornment. Women have an irreplaceable influence on their cultures and modesty can serve as a soulful endeavor towards sainthood. Why not pick a patron Saint for our next shopping spree? Our Saint sisters want to accompany our journey of beauty. Saint Rose of Lima is a patron of beauty and Saint Margaret of Scotland understood the importance of fashion. A New Witness of Modesty Sisters, we need to rise above the toxicity of this culture that objectifies women. We need to counter the legalistic and lax attitude that measures modesty by the hemline rather than the heart. We need freedom from competition and comparison. We need modern day influencers, who can redefine fashion from a biblical worldview. We need to celebrate our uniqueness and live out our creativity. And we need the diversity of styles in the sisterhood. [bctt tweet="We need to rise above this culture that objectifies women. We need to counter the legalistic and lax attitude that measures modesty by the hemline rather than the heart. We need to redefine fashion from a biblical worldview. #BISblog //" via="no"] Modesty is always going to be challenging in our hyper-sexed world and giving up a lifestyle that brings a sense of belonging will always be painful, but think about incomparable gains. Think about freedom. Think about interior peace. Unlike the catch and costliness of well-marketed fashion, the robes given by Christ are free. How invigorating it is to come to Him without costly costume or pretense. How liberating it is to exchange everything we have collected from this world to cover our self-importance and security for garments of salvation and righteousness. How awe-inspiring that underneath the array of exquisite clothing is a beautiful woman, capable of changing the world.   [bctt tweet="The Heart of Modesty #BISblog //" via="no"]

I will never forget that ecstatic feeling, as we sat on top of "First", the minor summit above Grindelwald, Switzerland. We were a troupe of 10, making our way to the 50th Charismatic Jubilee celebrations in Rome and had stopped to soak in some Swiss splendor. One morning, I made my way alone to a tiny hill where we gathered for our early morning worship. As I walked amidst the serene, still, gigantic landscape, I heard it. I raced uphill, my heart pulsating with what felt so familiar, until I saw it—a river—gushing forth from the mountains, flooding my sight with sensational awe, as the words "current of grace" inundated my spirit. That afternoon, I learnt that it was very unusual to sight melting snow in May. Current of grace, indeed! Made for Heaven I really think this is why Jesus did it, why He showed a glimpse of His heavenly glory to Peter, John, and James in the Transfiguration and why He continues to woo us with beauty, truth, and mercy on earth. We are made for Heaven. In this feast, we are invited to those “thin places” where the membrane separating Heaven and earth becomes transparent and Jesus is seen "unveiled". Standing with Moses and Elijah, His face shone like the sun, His garments glowing with light, as a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from Heaven thundered: This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him! Who Do You Say I Am? The favored disciples saw what always was, what we rightfully profess in the Creed: “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God.” But there is so much more than just dazzling light on Mount Tabor. Jesus reveals who He is. In a world of quick fixes, addictive lifestyles and moral abandonment, to consider a kingdom Jesus offers, leaves us with a question we cannot escape: ‘Who do you say I am?’ (Matthew 16:15) Jesus is not asking, “What have you heard about me?” He is not even asking, “Who does the Church say I am?” Rather He asks, “Who do you say I am?” The question is personal. It is life-changing. Do I know Jesus? Have I encountered Him personally? While the disciples may have recognized Christ as the Messiah, they often failed to act in proper reverence. It is only when they walked intimately with Jesus that their response moved from a posture of familiarity to one of faith. Pope Benedict XVI reminds us: The essence of Christianity is Christ, not a doctrine, but a person. This is what the Transfiguration is: a "getaway" to know Christ, to encounter Him and to be transformed by His light. Only Jesus Remains As suddenly as it all began, it also faded. The patriarchs disappeared leaving the disciples with no one, but Jesus. Only Jesus remained. Only Jesus remains. “Listen to Him” the voice of Heaven demands. We live in an age where listening is drowned out with noise and busyness. Listening demands time and stillness. No wonder we settle for doing rather than listening. Peter’s impetuous suggestion to build shelters could well be ours. How different he is from Mary whose quiet pondering enabled her to sustain her pilgrimage uphill Calvary? Are we taking time to listen to Jesus? I received the word "linger" for 2021. It didn’t take long to realize that my life was consumed with crammed calendars and unsurpassable schedules, robbing me of the solitude my soul demanded. I comprehend today that the Lord was requesting my "getaway" to prepare me for months that followed, months heavy and hard, months flooded with trials and tears. A Time of Preparation How gracious that the Lord prepares us for such. How kind that He beckons us to come so He can listen to and comfort the one He calls beloved. Saint Ignatius describes this as spiritual consolation—an interior movement within, where the soul becomes inflamed by Grace. We are called to soak up and store these Divine consolations so that they may sustain us in the future. I have been spending time reliving consolations. How desperate I am for this current of grace that floods my soul each time I remain, linger, and listen. When I listen, I can recognize Jesus, when I listen I can follow Him more closely. Descend to Discipleship While the trip to Switzerland left me with mountain-top wonder, the journey downward to Rome reminded me why. We gathered at Circus Maximus, with people from across the world, listening to Pope Francis charge, "the harvest is plenty, the laborers few. Go, the world needs you." Those words dispelled any romantic notions I had about discipleship. I realized how easy it is to live in the ecstasy of being chosen and forget the mandate of being commissioned. How tempting it is to cling to mountain-top euphoria and want to control where I am going. But discipleship isn’t about going or even arriving, it is about following. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. // Matthew 16:24 No matter how high we ascend, the Cross still shines. What does it mean to follow Jesus? Will I go where He leads? Am I willing to descend to the most unlikely places? Am I willing to live with ambiguity, insecurity, and vulnerability? The Transfiguration reminds us of Who we follow. He who gives us wings to soar on great summits also accompanies us in the valley of the shadow of death. As we follow Him to "Jerusalem", we who are surprised by His Glory are unavoidably transformed by His Grace. [bctt tweet="How easy it is to live in the ecstasy of being chosen and forget the mandate of being commissioned! #BISblog //" via="no"] You are the Light At the end of the stunning experience, the disciples came down the mountain, where they witnessed and ministered. This is our journey, too. Transformed by Light, we carry light. Who in your "Jerusalem" needs Christ’s light today? You are the concrete sign of the Transfiguration: a light for the world, a city on a hill. Flooded by currents of grace (see Ephesians 3:20), you are a vessel of hope and healing to a world weighed down by suffering. You are the light because Christ’s light is within you. Even on the darkest of nights, Jesus, your lamp, will never go out. Community Sent Forth On days when I’m tired and when the glow of Mount Tabor remains but a distant memory, I lean into my community. In the sisterhood, I have found fellow travelers who are willing to walk with me, linger, and listen to my woes. Together we discover that our earthbound experiences, however pleasant, are temporary. We still suffer, but we don’t have to suffer alone. We don't have to wake up in the dark. We can share our burdens. We can share our consolations. We can share our light. And yet, all the mountain-top experiences are nothing compared to what awaits us as Children of the Light. When all is dimmed this side of eternity, we will stand face to face, before the real, risen, and radiant One, who took on the longest journey there ever will be, to bring us to Heaven, to bring us home. There we shall live on Mount Zion with Him. There we shall see what no eye has seen. There we shall touch the trophies of His Grace. There we shall be transfigured with Him. We will be like Him because we shall see Him as He is. // 1 John 3:2   [bctt tweet="On the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord #BISblog //" via="no"]

“I was one way … and now I am completely different. And the thing that happened in between … was Him.” These are my favorite lines from Season 1 of The Chosen TV series that portray with artistic imagination and dialogue, the back-story of Jesus’ ministry, and in this episode, the life of Mary Magdalene. In this scene, Mary, who takes on the name Lileth, is plagued by demons that have thrust her into an immoral life. She is seen clinging to Isaiah 43 remembering how, as a frightened little girl, her father would reassure her with the words: Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. No One Can Help Mary Magdalen But Him As torment engulfs her life, she is visited by religious leaders including Nicodemus who, although caring about her, is incapable of helping her and acknowledges that only God could cast her demons out. Then, in a single moment, Jesus encounters her and calls her by name. Completely thunderstruck that anyone would know her "real" name, she turns to look and the intensity of His gaze pierces her darkness and the demons are cast out. She is free. The words of Nicodemus ring true: “Only God Himself could have drawn them out ...” Today we celebrate the feast of Saint Mary Magdalene, a "true and authentic evangelizer". Pope Francis’ appreciation for this “apostle of the apostles” inspired him in the Year of Mercy to elevate her place in the Church’s liturgical calendar from a memorial to a feast, drawing attention to her life, her faith, and the overwhelming grace of God extended to unworthy sinners like us. Demons and the Deliverer Mary Magdalene’s dark, deranged, and desperate existence is manifested in Luke 8:1-2. She is introduced as one cured of seven spirits. At first glance, it appears uncanny to be remembered this way in history, yet, this is precisely what sets her life apart. Her wounds become the place of her victory. Jesus met Mary at her worst. He gave her freedom and she gave Him her fears. Mary knew personal resurrection, not when the demons were cast out, but when she invited Jesus in. Only then was she permanently free, made spiritually new and given eternal life. Demon-possession is a difficult concept to grasp in our 21st century yet we are aware that we all struggle with our demons. There are days where the pull of sin is too strong; other days we wrestle with our past, our failures, and our defeat. In my own life, I’ve had to deal with the terrifying oppression of darkness following my conversion from atheism. I had deep wounds and too many demons to confront resulting from a godless existence. In my desperate pleas before a God who hears, I encountered the only way to freedom made available through Jesus Christ. “Only God Himself could have drawn them out ...” The demons are real but so is the Deliverer. You can trust Jesus to heal you. Which part of your history, your sin, that accident, that mishap, or that relationship needs to be named? There is no lingering surprise before God’s throne, only freedom bestowed. [bctt tweet="Saint Mary Magdalen's wounds become the place of her victory. #BISblog //" via="no"] Called by Name In John 20:11-18, following the crucifixion, Mary woke up early to anoint Jesus’ body, wanting to see Him one last time. She witnessed His miracles before. Could she hope for one even now? Worn out from Good Friday and with strength worn to a thread, Mary was frantic as she searched for Jesus' missing Body, mistaking Him for a Gardener. How profound that is! Jesus is the Divine Gardener, restoring the first garden that was fractured by Adam’s sin. As Mary sought for the One Who was dead dead, it is He who surprised her with life, calling her by name. “Mary!" Don’t we desire to be called in this most intimate way? The greatest event in history did not resound with a thunderbolt; it began in the calling of a name. Mary didn't have to wait until Heaven to experience the Resurrected Christ, she encountered Him in the ordinary, and so can we. Called Forth in Freedom At my moment of conversion, the brother who laid hands on me was praying in tongues, but I heard: “Michelle, I am here.” Astonished how he knew my name, I went to inquire only to find out that he didn’t know me at all. He concluded, “It is God calling you.” Over the years, the memory of that whisper remains etched in my spirit. But I am also aware that the thought of God knowing our names can be startling and frightening. We may live under the illusion that our flaws, fears, and fragile memories can stay hidden. But how might it change if we imagined God calling our names in the midst of it? Would we run and hide, afraid of being "seen" where we were once hidden? Or would we take a risk for freedom, found in the very Presence of One Who sees everything and still calls? Mary found herself in the midst of the greatest miracle. A new love song burst forth. It's a new beginning. The risk for the freedom Christ offers is worth it. It is worth turning, again and again, to find it. Christ calls us from within, only to propel us forward into freedom. Go and Tell Do you doubt that God can call you? The One who marks us with His own Name also trusts us to tell of the love that transforms. Who would say that a demon possessed woman would be entrusted to "go and tell"? Yet this is our story. Like Mary, we discover both a life beyond the grave and the freedom to go forth as the light, in the Name of the Light Who offers every sinner an opportunity for sainthood. There are no recorded miracles and signs by Mary in the Gospels but this we know: Mary was a lover, a faithful lover. This is how she is remembered. This is how we must be remembered. Sister, your past is not a barrier for God and your poor choices cannot derail His plans. The Resurrection can begin right here, right now, the moment you turn to look at Him. Hear Him call your Name. Hear Him whisper, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you ...” See Him offer you your own personal resurrection and then thank Him for the opportunity to go and tell: “I was one way….and now I am completely different. And the thing that happened in between… was Him.” Saint Mary Magdalene, pray for us!   [bctt tweet="The Thing that Happened in Between #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. “Am I going to continue to trust God, even if He never fulfills the longings of my heart?” The news devastated me. I had low estrogen levels, coupled with chronic PCOS. “It may be a long wait,” the doctor said. Waiting! Again! We had spent the previous two years waiting for our residence permit through endless cycles of application and rejection. It had taken a toll on us emotionally, financially, and spiritually. The diseases of guilt and shame devoured me. Was God punishing me? With my long history of irregular periods, it was no surprise that we spent over two years trying to get pregnant without success. The doctor had asked us to give it another six months and if nothing happened, that treatment was inevitable. The dull ache to fill a cavernous void caused by infertility is hard to comprehend. Every month feels like a new heartbreak. It left me feeling wounded, alone, confused, and angry. Infertility is so much more than just emptiness of the womb. It greatly challenged my relationship with God. Moreover, seeing the evident blessings of others affected my self-worth, even my marriage. I searched for every Scripture on barrenness and was consoled that its pages were layered with reminders of the Lord’s plan that surpassed any vision we could ever have for our lives. The profound words uttered to Hannah, “and the Lord remembered her” (Samuel 1:19) brought comfort and confidence to radically trust God. One afternoon, while praying, I remembered something that was spoken over me early in my conversion journey. I had encountered Jesus but didn’t know what it all meant. At a retreat I was asked what I would like prayer for and I blurted out “I don’t know” and began to weep. The Presence of God was palpable and as hands were laid on me a prophetic word was given: "The Lord is placing a call on your life," followed by, "Also I see an image, two children: the oldest is a girl, then a boy." In my despair, I remembered the prophecy. I opened my notes and read again, "I see two children." I sensed God wanting me to partner with Him, calling me to own those words, calling me to speak them aloud in prayer. The more I lamented, the more I began to see myself, know my value, and understand my identity as His beloved. Several months later, I found myself in the midst of my miracle. It wasn’t in my ability to bear babies. It was finding freedom in surrender; it was finding merit in suffering. I vividly remember the day we visited the doctor to discuss potential treatment. A week prior to that I was asked to take some medication to regulate my cycle and was supposed to bleed after the 5th day... but I didn’t. Another complication? As I waited at the clinic, something felt different; something was sacred. Life felt new and potent with promise. I was acutely aware that what happened over the next few minutes could change my life forever. Yet, the words "and the Lord remembered her" entered my spirit, even as the words, "I see two children" reinvigorated me in new ways. In the examination room, as the doctor moved the ultrasound wand around my belly, we heard it… a tiny heartbeat! Almost certain that she made a mistake, she tried again and again, uttering under her breath that I couldn’t have gotten pregnant under the medication I had taken. In a moment, everything changed; in a moment everything was new. We were standing on the threshold of an uttered prophecy. I was going to be a mother. God’s promises were indeed yes and amen (2 Corinthians 1:20). Nine months later, we held her, our vivacious little girl. We named her Kristen which means "belongs to Christ" because she belonged to Him – the God of miracles, the God who keeps His promises. Four years later Nathan arrived, a testimonial of God’s faithfulness. I know how hard it is when the famine of infertility strikes at the soul. I know how the heavy crosses of unmet expectations, unfulfilled longings, and the inexplicable “not yets” can weigh us down. Yet this is our hope: we do not shoulder these crosses alone. We partner with Christ. In the Son of God Who became the very embodiment of suffering, we can be assured that even our brokenness can turn into blessing and our suffering into reservoirs of His grace and mercy. God collects every tear (see Psalm 56:8) with a promise that all will be made new one day (see Revelation 21). But for here and now, you can lament, you can mourn for the child you don’t have. The Lord allows these emotions and He desires to transform them into virtues. He isn’t callous or indifferent to your cries and He’s not ignoring your wait. He loves you too much to answer your prayers at any other time than the right time. Sister, you are not any less of a mother than I am. You are called to be a Christ-bearer right where you are and you can love those God has placed on the peripheries of your life, freely and without hesitation. And as the Lord’s plan beautifully unfolds before you, you can trust He will remember you; yes, He will keep His promises. If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Healing After Infertility #BISblog //" via="no"]

We were on our usual weekend double date when Angie told us she was pregnant, her first. I was pregnant too, four months, my second. Our husbands beamed as we chatted about symptoms and cravings, hopes and dreams as preparations made their way to our due dates. Four months after I gave birth to my son, Hannah entered our world, giving us plenty of reason to sing. Songs have been such an integral part of my relationship with Angie. As long-time music ministry members, they have strengthened our friendship through our common love for worship. And here, beholding those angelic lips and precious hands, as new songs filled the room, something unexpected happened. Hannah was diagnosed with jaundice, contracted a severe infection and was immediately isolated. Suddenly everything was falling apart. The stress and anxiety of a new mother only added to nursing challenges, delaying Hannah’s progress. We were grieving and desperate for relief. Sisters in Joy and in Sorrow One afternoon after praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet, something crossed my mind. The doctor made his regular visit and I probed the possibility of nursing Hannah every day. He immediately agreed, explaining how this was common in Middle Eastern cultures with large families. Angie and I rushed over and I held Hannah. Her latch was immediate and our relief indescribable, almost sacred. I could feel my body unclench with deep sighs and stillness as hot tears flowed. In a few days, we were home, carrying with us a memory that could best be described as our own personal "visitation" moment. The feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary invites us to look deeply into this dynamic of love, this innate capacity inside us women to draw others’ out of despair into joy. As Mary and Elizabeth meet, Saint Luke reveals that there is more going on than just a happy family reunion. There is history being made as their stories intersect: the younger one Mary pregnant with the Christ Child and Elizabeth carrying His forerunner, John the Baptist. Both pregnancies are challenging. Both are miraculous. Arise and Hasten Drawing from Luke 1:39-45 as Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country to meet Elizabeth, Pope Francis says, “She (Mary) is the virgin of readiness, Our Lady of Haste.” The difficult journey uphill to Ain Karim could have tempted Mary to stay home seeking her own comfort but Mary moved forward with urgency. She arose. “Arise” is a verb. “Go”, Jesus told his disciples (Matthew 28:19-20). Arise—it’s a call to action. It speaks resurrection; it is an awakening to new life. This is the mandate of evangelization. To go forth! We live in a generation of the "here and now", following quick fixes and hastening our way to our dreams. How often do we hasten our needs and ignore our sisters living next door? Mary teaches us “haste”, but not the kind of haste where we don’t know what it means to wait; rather, haste to share and haste to serve, even at great risk. Mary’s missionary journey leads her far from home, compelling her into places alien to her daily habits. Make Haste In a hurting and broken world, where is God calling you to make haste? Perhaps hasten to visit a friend you know is suffering? Perhaps hasten to reconcile with a family member? In following the trail of the young woman of Nazareth, don’t we discover that such paths only lead to a better, fairer, less cruel and a more humane world we all long for? My Own Visitation In Luke 1:46-55, following Elizabeth’s greeting, we read that Mary bursts forth into song, or canticle, that we know as “The Magnificat”. In her book, Manual for Women, Danielle Bean says, “This is us. Even in the darkest of places women bring life. We bring love. We bring hope to a fallen world.” We bring a new song. Who in your life needs your song today? Where is God calling you to give someone a reason to praise even in suffering? A Mystery of Joy Pope Francis says, “The mystery of the Visitation is a mystery of joy,” because Mary carries Jesus with her, the Source of joy. He is the reason for her song. The beauty of this feast lies not only in Mary visiting Elizabeth but also in Jesus visiting Elizabeth. And Jesus visits us, and, in Him, we too can live and relive our own "visitation" moments. He visits us in conversations we didn’t really want to have but knew we needed. He visits us in the birth of new babes and beginnings. He visits us in moments of doubt and despair. He visited me in the hospital as I shared in Angie’s burden; He has visited me this past year through my mom’s illness. He visits me now. Jesus visits you now. Jesus is hidden within us, within every person, in what Saint John of the Cross calls our deepest center. Celebrating Together The Visitation teaches us that when Christ becomes the source of our joy, He is uncontainable and worth celebrating. In contrast to our individualistic world so focused on competition, comparison, and celebration of self-accomplishments, Mary shows us how to celebrate “our thunder” with our sisters. Mary received the greatest honor in Salvation History, but desired to celebrate Elizabeth’s miracle. Elizabeth bypassed the joy of her own miraculous pregnancy to honor Mary’s good news. This shared joy allowed both women to be edified, supported, and celebrated. Mary and Elizabeth’s soul-bearing friendship teaches us intentional discipleship. Our common love for Jesus must lead us to recognize each other’s vocation and gifts. We need each other to achieve our common goal of sanctity. We need frequent pauses in our fast-paced world to step in and celebrate, even without "reason". We need to celebrate women who celebrate us. Perhaps as you pray the second joyful mystery of the Rosary, slip in an extra prayer of thanksgiving for women in your life who are special to you. A Church Alive In January, I launched my ministry’s first women’s community. We had women from across 25 countries and from different backgrounds, ethnicities, and experiences. We had one common goal: Jesus. It was humbling to see grandmothers and moms, teenagers and women who had been impacted by infertility, miscarriage, abuse and loss come forward to serve. It was also incredible to witness older women devoting their lives toward younger women. Such a vivid picture of the Church. Isn’t this what the Visitation must lead to? A Church alive. A Church bursting forth into songs of triumph and transformation. Sister, are there people in your life who need your time? God has placed them in your path for you to do life with, to share and strengthen, and to invest in deeply. There are friends who need a coffee moment and those that need you to "hasten" to them. There are friends who wait to "visit" Jesus in you and those who desperately need the light of Easter, a Church alive within you. My prayer for you is that, as find your own sweet visitation moment, you have the courage to carry your song to a broken friend. And I pray that, as you sing together “the Almighty has done great things”, you might rest—trusting the Promises of God and knowing deeply that the best is still ahead.   [bctt tweet="Friendship on the Feast of the Visitation #BISblog //" via="no"]

It was an ordinary day at work. Svend was frantically shuffling through the papers, his eyes fixated but his body language giving way to the tension that filled the air. In my new role as HR Business Partner, I quickly learned that Svend occupied the position of Drilling Manager for a reason—he was one of the brightest minds in the industry. But I was also aware that he was rough, rude, and curt. That morning, I heard that his son was critically ill. As the sound of papers filled the air, my heartbeat grew louder. After much resistance I finally uttered, “I heard your son is ill. I hope he is alright.” I often think back to that moment and wonder why I struggled to speak. Was I afraid to lose my job or afraid to look too "religious"? How could I show integrity without hiding parts of myself? As a believer I didn't want to live with two lives: my work life and my spiritual life. I wanted my life to be integrated. A Mission Mindset From Jesus, we learn courage and faithfulness at the workplace. The Gospels beautifully portray Him working as a carpenter, giving us a glimpse into His "secular" labor. Think about the men He chose. They were called straight out from their workplace with no "religious" credentials. The biblical command is clear: we are to reflect Christ in our day-to-day lives. How much more, then, at our workplaces, where we spend the majority of our adult lives? How can we use that time wisely? Second Vatican Council’s Gaudium et Spes states: One of the gravest errors of our time is the dichotomy between the faith which many profess and the practice of their daily lives. The biblical worldview leaves no room for secular-sacred dualistic thinking. Saint Paul iterates: Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. // Colossians 3:22-24 The world is desperate for witnesses. We need to see our workplaces as mission fields if we desire opportunities of influence. Having a mission mindset will also allow us to see purpose in our work, our co-workers and our stewardship. Witnessing Versus Witness Working in a multinational company with people from different religions has allowed me to think deeply about how my actions reflect Christian principles and how I can be an example to others. As a new believer, I was tempted to be radical and assertive: avoiding people who were not like-minded and using Christian jargon to ensure my spirituality was evident. Over the years, God has been teaching me to maintain a strong God-honoring character both in my personal and professional life. He has used the many challenges and conflicts at work to teach me what it means to be a “witness”. Pope Francis says, “Today’s world stands in great need of witnesses… It’s not so much about speaking, but rather speaking with our whole lives." We can confuse witness with witnessing. Witnessing is doing—say this; do that. Witness on the other hand is being. It is organic. We can only be who God calls us to be and rest knowing that it is God who changes hearts. The question is not, "Did you witness?" but rather, "Are you a witness?" What Do Others See? In the last 10 years, I have served bosses of other faiths. My present boss is Muslim, a remarkable woman through whom I have learnt integrity, commitment, and consistency. We have shared many experiences, even spiritual, without imposing our beliefs on each other. I have been intrigued by her appraisal of my work, which she often attributes to my Faith. Our good attitude matters. Faithfulness, selflessness, and charity are markers of Christian influence. On the other hand, dishonesty, unpunctuality, gossip, desire for power, and inappropriate language can rob us of being the light that Christ desires. Deadlines and profits are important but we must be careful that they do not fuel competition and comparison, causing us to work in silos rather than in unity. Our colleagues will recall not only how well we did our job but also how we treated them in the process. Do those around you see a positive reflection of God in your work ethic? Spirit-Led Conversations I am learning to ask, “What do I want people to remember about Michelle?” I mentioned about Svend and how I reluctantly inquired about his son. "He’s not too good; thanks," was the cold response I received. At first, I was tempted to end the conversation, but I could sense the Holy Spirit asking me to surrender that moment. As I yielded, Grace took over and I responded, "Svend, I will pray for him. God heals." That afternoon, Svend sent me a thank you email expressing that no one had ever said that to him before. That conversation was the beginning of a lifelong friendship with this man who was twice my age, a widower who lived alone, and who I discovered as one of the most generous men I would ever encounter. Over the months, Svend accepted Jesus as Savior and eventually came to the Catholic Church. Ways to Witness in the Workplace This experience taught me to invite the Holy Spirit into my conversations to discover the human person before me, beyond skill and work experience. Instead of getting stuck in the “me versus them” mentality, I have been intentional to practice regular heart checks. How can I work with people whose worldviews are different from mine? Where do I need to give up control and let God in? I need the fruit of the Spirit in my witness. I need His Presence to see opportunities as they arise. Here are some ways you can grow in your witness at the workplace. 1. Prayer Begin your day with God. Pray sincerely for your boss and colleagues. Even a simple prayer like, “Come Holy Spirit,” can help you mindfully walk the path of freedom and holiness. 2. Honesty If someone invites you to a gathering that clashes with your commitment at church, instead of saying, “I’m busy,” simply say, “I have to go to church.” Just be honest. 3. Heart Checks When you are tempted to lie, exaggerate, or altogether avoid people, reflect: why am I behaving this way? Am I a witness? 4. Excellence True success and fulfillment requires that we develop and practice the virtue of excellence. You can witness powerfully with your reliability, punctuality, hard work, and humility. 5. Forgiveness When you face conflict, it is essential that you seek resolution, face-to-face. Asking for and extending forgiveness is a gateway for God’s peace and His wisdom into that situation. A Higher Calling Let’s face it. Bringing God into our workplace is a challenge. Even so, we can be freed to embrace successes, challenges, and failures while resting on the blessed assurance that we are held in the loving Heart of God. Dear sisters, whether you are qualified or have no degree, whether you are a business woman or struggling to make ends meet, I urge you to invite the Holy Spirit into your workplace daily. We need His Power to break through the narrow limits of biases, religions, and cultures. This Lenten season, let Him drive your witness with selfless (agape) love and lead you to your higher call of holiness. Your workplace needs your witness and your time begins now!   [bctt tweet="Being a Catholic Witness in the Workplace #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Blessed Chats series! Each month, we will dedicate an entire week of blog posts to a topic that affects many of us. These conversations often come up in our Facebook groups and in our real life friendships. We want to share a variety of perspectives on the topic at hand, so we've asked women to share their stories and how the teachings of the Church have guided and comforted them. In this series, we're talking about college. We'd love for you to join the conversation! The Saving Graces, written by Patricia Gaffney, is a story of four girlfriends who for a decade shared deep affection that helped them deal with the ebb and flow of life, uniting them as years went by. Their story profoundly impacted the way I viewed friendship. I was deeply enthused by their depth, loyalty, vulnerability and how quickly they chose to forgive. I have often wondered why such stories leave indelible marks on our soul . What is it about such relationships that invoke in us a deep desire for belonging? Why was I drawn to it? Being The Beloved In 2019, following my talk on relationships at a youth conference, a young girl came to me saying “I don’t have any friends, what is wrong with me?” Her question brought a myriad of memories without delay. During college, I had superficial relationships and very few that resembled "friendships." I floated between different groups across campuses, trying to fit in but was shattered many times by girls who elevated themselves by tearing others down. On the other hand, my broken home, coupled with my atheistic lifestyle, prevented me from seeing myself as a "gift." It left a deep void within me. I constantly tried to fill this emptiness with the comfort of shallow friendships, those who knew me only by my appearance, not my heart. I was the queen of comparison, constantly seeking validation, settling for mediocrity. I set unrealistic—if not idolatrous—expectations on friends, expecting them to comfort, provide and love the way I wanted. The Healing of Christ When I encountered Christ in 2004, my view on friendship still needed work. Having lived my whole life with a performance mentality, I entered ministry life as well, approaching people like programs, finding worth in “doing” rather than being. I experienced hurt and heartache, many from women, leaving me wondering if authentic female friendships were even a reality in the Church. My healing journey with Christ has taught me that I cannot give from an empty well. Hurting people hurt other people. I need to first receive my deepest identity as a beloved of the Father. The more I abide in His friendship, the more I am able to see friendship as an overflow of His love. The more I see myself as the beloved, the more I am able to embrace people as Christ does, without destructive expectations. How fitting that in the grand story of salvation, then, wounds are not erased, they become tools that God uses to tell His story, bringing Hope. As Christ continues to heal my heart, I’m learning to ask: How can I love like Him? How can I be that true loving friend? Sustaining Digital Friendships Life Coach Jim Roan says, "Show me five people you hang out with the most and I'll tell you where you'll end up." We don’t just choose friends; we also adopt their lifestyle and worldview. We become who we choose. As a Youth Mentor, I am aware of the challenge to sustain friendships in our digital age. With so much focus on connection and so little on communion, young people tend to confuse strangers with friends—people who have access to their feed, but don’t have access to the deepest parts of their story. In Hebrew the word for friend is very closely related to the word “secrets” because a friend is someone we can trust not just with information, but with our life. But think about how easy it is today to violate trust. It takes a second to text or tweet something confidential but a lifetime to repair the damage. How do we sustain lifelong relationships as pilgrims on the digital highway? In his encyclical Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis writes, “Life is stronger than death when built on true relationships and bonds of fidelity.” It is no secret that we have been wounded by female friendships. But it is for this very reason that the sisterhood needs the authenticity of our witness to create a culture of encounter where trust and truth can foster faith, friendship and commitment in relationships. WRITE + PRAY We invite you to sit with the Word and unpack it in a uniquely personal way, finding your own story. Discover your story within His. GET WRITE AND PRAY Love Beyond Borders Friendship in its purest form is love. But what do we mean by love? I love chocolate, I love my sister, and God loves me. Are those the same kind of loves? A friendship which requires moving beyond the ‘self’, toward others is perhaps the most overlooked opportunity in our busy world. We need encounters of love, discovering beyond what we can see, being open to dialogue and being better listeners. In Mary’s life, we see how God’s love not only permeated her innermost being; it also propelled her forward for the good of another. Following the Annunciation, Mary didn’t run first to the leaders or her parents or even the man she was promised to marry. Despite the cost, she went in haste to Elizabeth (Luke 1:39), to bring affirmation, to testify and to burst forth into song, together. This is the beauty of a soul filled with love; this is sisterhood—going beyond oneself, building bridges, emerging stronger. Mary’s friendship is a timely reminder for our modern friendships. She invites us to challenge the cultural status quo that says, "What can I get out of this," to arrive at, "how can I be a friend to you?" I have begged God to bring holy women into my life and after much heartbreak I am so grateful for my inner circle today, women who not only call me higher, but continually lead me to Christ’s Sacred Heart. Their willingness to call me out in truth is such a tremendous gift. It is life-giving, transforming and therapy to my soul. We are tempted for quick wins, but deep friendships take time, they are born through shared adversity, deepened through forgiveness and consistent vulnerability. We need connections that bleed love. Jesus, Friend Forever Sister, if you are struggling in your friendships, compromising under pressure, or grieving the losses of friends gone, I want to encourage you. God sees your heart and your ache for authentic sisterhood. You are not alone. The manger and eventually the Cross are the supreme reminders of God's involvement, intimacy, and saving graces on our journey. Remember, Jesus had three close friends who professed to love Him all the way, but at the most crucial moments of His life, they abandoned Him. Yet, He called them friends (John 15:15). He gave them access to His heart and offered them His trust. Take heart, knowing that in our moments of loneliness, when we turn to cry out in abandonment, we find ourselves face to face with a tortured, bloody man on a cross, in whose death our friendships are redefined and redeemed. Even in the deepest moment of abandonment, we meet the one who is called "God with Us" Ask the Lord for Good Friends in College This is the work of the Holy Spirit, conforming us to the One who is Love and setting ablaze our hearts to love like He does. His fire runs deep, purging our selfishness, helping us forgive, burning away fears and breaking down filters that prevent us from being the friend we’ve always wanted. Pray for good friends. And consider how you can be a good friend today.   This is just one of many stories about college life and discernment. We want to hear YOUR story. Please share in the comments below! And if you want more help with finding your own story, our popular Write + Pray course offers 9 topics, nearly an hour of guided video, and almost 50 Scripture verses and questions for you featuring Managing Editor Nell O'Leary. Find your story today.   [bctt tweet="Blessed Chats: College // Authentic Female Friendships #BISblog #blessedchats //" via="no"]

One of my favorite memories of Rome was when I visited the Basilica of the Chair of St. Peter in 2018. This was my fourth time there. We were delegates from 75 nations, and had assembled for the first CHARIS global leaders meeting with the Holy Father. As a ministry leader, this experience was life changing. Roaming and Rome I have to admit that I never really thought that I needed to see Rome or the Vatican to deepen my faith. I often chide and say that I had two conversions—one from Atheism and the second to Catholicism. After my conversion, having been heavily influenced by denominational churches, I did not practice Catholicism, as I was opposed to many of its dogmas and couldn’t relate to its practices. Therefore, I always consider my time in Rome as a time of healing and restoration. I am grateful today for the power of the Holy Spirit at work in the life of the Church and the gift of community that helps me understand our history, heritage, and the Truth that brings hope and joy to millions. During that visit, the magnificent paintings displayed at the Basilica left me completely in awe of sacred art. I stayed there lost in time, mesmerized by the mysteries of Salvation as they unfolded the goodness, truth, and beauty of an omnipotent God through the work of human hands. One such beautiful masterpiece stood in a small church near Piazza Navona. Painted by the late Renaissance artist Caravaggio, the painting captures “The Calling of Saint Matthew” exhibiting rich and royal hues of 16th century finery. An Encounter With Light Reflecting from Matthew 9:9-13, Jesus is seen entering the world of Matthew and his tax collector friends. Matthew (called Levi before) is seen seated at the table with his comrades, lost in counting the day’s proceeds. They appear caught up in themselves, unaware of others and oblivious to the stranger in their midst. There is a look of enthusiasm in their faces, yet a profound sense of emptiness in their eyes. They seem to have it all, yet show unease, a sense of lack, searching for something more. Jesus’ gaze is upon Matthew. He looks him in the eye and points to him. Caravaggio paints this gesture intentionally, drawing attention to the hand that reaches out to God the Father, as depicted in Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel ceiling. There we see the hand of Adam reaching out for God as creation is fragmented in sin. Now, Jesus, the New Adam is calling Matthew to new life, desiring to make him a new creation. This is a moment of illumination. The canvas captures the light pouring in, streaming into the darkness where the tax collector sits. He has this incredulous look on his face. Surprised by the intrusion, perhaps even dazzled by this sudden light, Matthew gestures toward himself with his left hand as if to say, "Who, me?" Arise to New Life The stranger calls out, “Follow me,” bringing Matthew to the point of decision—that pivotal moment between Matthew the tax collector and Matthew the disciple. What will Matthew do? How will he respond to the invitation of light? I have often wondered what went through Matthew’s mind as he felt the tug to “come, follow.” I wonder if he reasoned at the new possibility before him. In my own journey from Atheism to Faith, I cannot look back without denying the shadows of the One who relentlessly pursued me, even when I wasn’t "looking." Yet when I sensed the invitation, I fought with reason, afraid of what would become of me. I was desperate to find freedom from my life of shame and endless worries but I also feared what this new life would demand. ‘What would my life look like if I came into the Light?’ ‘What would I lose?’ ‘What would I see?’ And therefore how fitting it is that we enter every new year with an invitation to “see.” In the liturgical celebration of the Epiphany (meaning “manifestation” in its Greek origin), we are invited to see and experience our own paradigmatic shifts. Where am I? What am I doing? What is God calling me to see? Where in my life do I need to reorder and reorient myself? Where is the Light? Jesus came for Matthew and called out to him. And Matthew responded to the Light. There are no recorded words between them, all we know is that he rose and followed Jesus. This is the same verb that is used to describe the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead. This is what conversion means—a rising from the dead, an elevation to New Life. Matthew responded to that invitation and entered into the Power of Jesus’ Resurrection. He received new life. He became a disciple and an Apostle. He became a vessel of the Light. His life bore witness to the brilliance of Christ’s love. So bright and powerful was this love, that the man who once "took" from people, did not hesitate to "give," even his own life. What about me? How will I respond to this invitation? Come, Follow Me Perhaps for many of us, this is a moment to rekindle our faith and think about the moment of our conversion. Have we been faithful? Do we need to return? Maybe for some of us, we feel unworthy with our sins and failure, finding it difficult to believe that God can even call us. For many years, I struggled, wondering if I had what it took to serve Christ. My own brokenness fueled comparison and competition for spiritual gifts, preventing me from truly seeing Christ and seeing myself in Him. But the good news is that Christ continues to come. He continues to manifest Himself. He is not deterred by our dirt and our darkness. His hand continues to point to us, calling us to discipleship, reminding us of our destiny. Dear sister, do you hear that call? Do you recognize Jesus coming to you in the most ordinary moments of your life, bidding you to “come,” “see,” and “rise”? Perhaps that voice comes to you in the restlessness that there has to be more to life than what you are experiencing right now. Perhaps it comes through your losses, failures, and shattered dreams; maybe it’s even through the voice of your child or your spouse. Perhaps you are sensing it right now. This is Jesus beckoning your heart, awakening your call, leading you to the Light. Will you rise and follow? If God can choose to make His Incarnation and redemption real to us through magnificent art, surely He desires to use His grandest art of all to make both His love and His light real to the world. This grand art piece, dear sister is you. You did not choose Him, He chose you (John 15:16). You are God’s masterpiece and you belong to Him. Hear him calling you “Come, follow me.” Here Him bidding you to rise and go forth as the light of the world and the salt of the earth.   [bctt tweet="Transformed By Light with Caravaggio #BISblog //" via="no"]

Rhythm is a dancer, it’s a soul companion; you can feel it everywhere. These lyrics by the famed German group Snap from decades ago immediately transport me back in time, perhaps even to a particular moment. The relationship between music and memory is powerful, and new research suggests how these memories can positively work even for therapeutic effect. Given my father’s musical background, music was deeply ingrained in me; however, the gift of music took on greater meaning after my conversion in 2004. On a Whim? I still remember that late evening as I waited for my husband to return from work. A friend had gifted me Don Moen’s live concert CD featuring the famous “God will make a way”. Being an atheist at the time, Gospel music meant nothing more than just pleasant musical accompaniments. However, that evening, quite unfamiliar to me, I felt a great tug in my soul for something deeper and reached out to play my friend’s CD. As I watched the live choir resound in praise, I also watched a teary congregation lost in something that seemed like deep peace, something so foreign to me at the time. Though my soul was so lost, I couldn’t deny the beckoning of God before me. His presence was so real, so palpable that I began to weep, not knowing why. As much as I resisted, I knew I was in the presence of Someone greater than myself. Overtaken with awe, I began to sing and inadvertently even raised my hands, experiencing a rich pleasure I had never tasted before, something I ardently longed for all those years. That was 15 years ago, and the rich pleasure of worship only continues to sweeten over the years. The Altar of Our Hearts The Greek word often translated for "worship" is proskunesis, meaning "to kiss, to prostrate or make obeisance”. Worship, then, can be literally perceived as ‘worthship’; giving God His rightful place. This revelation is crucial to our rightful disposition of worship, because how we see God will determine how we respond to Him. However, when Jesus presented God as Father, this revelation took on greater meaning, offering us the unique opportunity of intimacy in worship, teaching us that worship is first and foremost a matter of the heart. It is relationship. It is a call to adore God. But who can adore God apart from grace? It is impossible to worship in "spirit and truth" (John 4:23-24), without accepting the great love God has for us and the power of His grace with which He moves us toward Him. “Make an altar of your heart,” says Saint Peter Chrysologus. But in order for our heart to become an altar, we need to do more than just give things; we need to give ourselves. In my experience, I know that I am tempted so often to create an atmosphere, or set the stage for worship. Sadly I end up putting so much emphasis on creating the ambiance that I forget that my very presence is a gift for God. He longs for my worship and waits to sing over my troubled heart. A Broken and Contrite Heart How do we retain the integrity of worship when it’s easy to reduce worship to an experience rather than a way of life? Ever since the Fall, man has a natural propensity towards self. Modern tones and glamorous screens, however helpful, can lose relevance if all we have to offer is a place to be entertained rather than be edified. The Great Commission places on us an urgency to win souls. But we must ask—to win them to what? Because at the heart of worship, the world needs to hear not, “Come and have a good time,” but rather “Come and follow me.” The intent of worship is always discipleship. It is always sainthood. I started my journey as a worship leader, but it has taken some painful lessons over the years to learn the difference between being the gifted and becoming the anointed of God. A gift can take us places, but it is the anointing of God that sustains faith; a gift can entertain a crowd, but it is the anointing that breaks the yoke. In all these years of leading, I can painfully say that this "self" so often gets in the way, looking for every opportunity to steal the spotlight, waiting to rob God of His true "worthship". Turned Toward Him To worship from a contrite heart is nothing less than brokenness. The prophet Isaiah was broken in the presence of God (Isaiah 6). But this brokenness was not to destroy him, it was meant to strip him of "self" so that he could be set apart for God. There have been numerous experiences at conferences when worship has invoked a deep need for repentance, bringing to the surface of my heart attitudes and actions that had clearly offended the Heart of God. In my pursuit for perfection, I have often forgotten to bring the most valuable instrument my Father desires—my heart. In my pursuit to elevate "self" I have sought the applause of people rather than the affection of my Father. God desires a broken and contrite heart; this is an ongoing lesson in worship. I am grateful for the many delays and disappointments of life; they have taught me that I have some long overdue work to be done in my heart. I am equally grateful that God's hand of discipline is never without His Hand of tenderness. Broken Chords, Mended Hearts Two years ago I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease. After weeks of diagnosis, I finally found myself sitting in front of a specialist who began to relay the condition of this ailment as one that had no known cure. It was a terrifying moment that lasted several weeks. Would this condition ever be healed? What if this condition leaves me immobile and hampers my dreams? For weeks, the perfectionist in me began to search the internet for tangible signs of certainty and alternate therapies; I was longing for peace, but also wanting control. Singing through a situation like this was like singing through broken chords. It was not until I yielded my heart in worship that I began to learn that I may not have all the theological answers I need, but I always have a choice as a worshipper. I can choose to sing, even in this. God has been teaching me in this season how my suffering can produce fruits like endurance, character, and hope that others can come and feast on when they face their own songs in the night. Worship isn’t a place to forget our circumstances; it is a place to bring those in. There are an incredible amount of lonely, hurting, and wounded people in this world who need our songs to point them to the hope of a greater reality. Our songs can become powerful stories when we allow God to shape us through suffering. One thing that God is still teaching me through this uncertainty is that as a worship leader, as a mentor, I am replaceable; but as a daughter of God, I am indispensable and irreplaceable. There will never be another me. My song is unique and so is my story. My Heart, His Throne What is your story sister? How have you found strength to worship in the midst of pain? You may not have a stage to sing, but you have a voice to render. You may not be at the front of a platform, but you have a posture. When words fail and it’s hard to sing, my prayer for you is that you will remember that you are made for worship. How consoling is the truth that the God who draws near to the brokenhearted is not removed from human pain but has borne under it, in the flesh in Jesus Christ? If every human lament is a love-song, then Jesus is the embodied hope that God is first singing over us; reminding us that grief is not the end of the story, but latent with a promise that one day as all will be made new, we will gather with people from every nation, language and tribe, to worship before the throne of the victorious Lamb, joining with angelic choirs, and singing the salvation song that changed all of history, beginning first with our own.   [bctt tweet="The Heart of Worship #BISblog //" via="no"]   Michelle Karen D’Silva is a Catholic speaker based in the small little peninsula of Qatar. With an immense passion for discipleship and youth, she finds herself most at home when laughing and conversing with young people over karak and hummus. She is a huge (almost stalker-level) fan of Pope Benedict XVI who constantly inspires her to live out the “call to greatness” as a woman in ministry, wife to a doting hubby, and mama to two constantly hungry sheep. Find out more about her here.

In 2005, as secret-sharing apps like Secret and Whisper were making headlines, Frank Warren’s project PostSecret, a digital chronicle, was raking greater heights. New York Times even called it "the PostSecret phenomenon." What started off as a blog asking strangers to write their "secrets" on a postcard and send it to his home, became one of internet’s most popular communities. Evidently, even people with secrets feel the need to be seen, highlighting the fundamental desire within us to be known at deeper levels. Behind the Scenes I was no stranger to secrets. My childhood was turbulent, to say the least. Rage, verbal abuse, control, and resentment prevailed in my home. My parents were Catholic in name only. They constantly fought and threatened to leave the marriage. As a child, this affected me deeply and thinking I could keep the family together, I made every attempt to please them. These efforts were a resounding failure and only succeeded in piercing my young heart with deep emotional wounds. By the time I was 14, I learnt new ways to please and put on masks to hide the insecurities within me. Darkness became a haven and patterns like promiscuity, addictions, and buried anger propelled me to keep dangerous secrets. Reflecting back, I see how I tried to have my emotional needs gratified by others. Seeking marital or family therapy is taboo and therefore not an option in our Indian culture. We immediately reason “log kya kehenge” (What will people say?). It reigns supreme in regulating our decisions and drives to protect any vulnerability lest we be met with judgment. My secrets not only kept me enchained but also brought deep shame, creating a sense of worthlessness within me. I was constantly seeking to be seen, but constantly hiding. Empty and Void My life was devoid of a spiritual base. I lived in a polytheistic culture where it was easy to accept that different paths led to the same end. I concluded Catholicism to be a religion based on fearful obedience. Looking through my lens of brokenness, a God who cared personally for me seemed unreal. Yet the pain I felt was very real. I rejected God and chose atheism. Little did I know that when I rejected God, I rejected all that is beautiful, all that is fully human, and succumbed to a life of lies believing that purity was not an option and that genuine love was out of my reach. The more I sought to deny pain, the more it cut deeply into who I was. At 18 years old, I attempted to take my life. Not once, but three times. Truth Revealed I moved to the Middle East in 2004 where loneliness and depression took on greater depths. But it was here, amidst this spiritual wasteland, that God deeply intervened in my life. By divine orchestration, I crossed paths with a brother who candidly shared the Gospel with me. One afternoon, he poignantly pointed to the quest of my soul: “What do you want? Don’t you want more in life Michelle?" Those words pierced my heart like a sword. He was right. I had believed the lies for so long, but my spirit could not escape the unrelenting approach of the One who had pursued me all those years, whose presence I had so earnestly sought to hide from. That afternoon, God’s relentless love was palpable through the presence of this genuine man. I was tempted to refute God again, but found myself yielding, silently admitting that God was God and followed this brother to a prayer meeting. A few weeks later, I responded to an altar call and gave my life to Jesus Christ. In the moment of that encounter, as the elder laid hands on me, I felt an overwhelming surge of God’s love, the Power of the Holy Spirit pouring over me like an electric current, filling every sense of my being. Found I had learned to skillfully hide my emotions, but at that moment I was weeping like a child, weeping for my years of lostness. All that my intellectual mind had refuted about God, now in a moment of His Glory, the scales of my eyes were removed and I could see. God was real and He was Father. I was finally home; not afraid to be seen anymore. That dramatic encounter 16 years ago began many years of wrestling in prayer for this truth to permeate every part of my human existence and continues to this very day. Knowledge without Shame One of my favorite invitations to be “seen” is found in John’s Gospel where Jesus encounters the woman at the well. Her life could be my life. Hers is a life of many secrets, too painful to sit with in the open. Her shame is tragic even as it is scandalous, stemming from deep pain. She has been hiding from the crowds; hiding from her mistakes, her worthlessness, and deep shame. Yet in her brief encounter with Jesus, Who asks her for a drink, her secrets are exposed, not for the sake of shaming her but to bring her total and complete freedom. As Jesus uncovers the deepest parts of her well, she is able to “see” him. She sees because He has first seen her. Unlike the men in her past, this Man offers her something of incomparable worth. He has seen her at her worst, accepts her, and then gently allows her to see herself through His lens. She sees herself for the first time: worthy, significant, beautiful and dignified. She discovers that His love is authentic and fierce. He doesn’t just desire to address her wounds; He desires to restore her life. His love calls her out from within to call her forward into purpose, power, and destiny. Fully Seen and Fully Loved Notice what happens when shame and fear is gone: she is freed up. John 4:28 tells us that in exchange for the Living Water, she leaves her water pot behind, symbolic of her hidden life, and runs to the very place of her brokenness to declare a new kind of beauty. She issues them the same invitation: Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! -John 4:29 In Eastern Orthodox and Eastern Catholic traditions, this woman is venerated as a saint with the name "Photine" which means "the Luminous One." The Fire of the Spirit set ablaze not just her life but also the entire village through her courageous witness. Her name is so fitting—she is in the Light, not afraid to be fully seen, because she is fully known and fully loved. Brokenness to Beauty Have you had your epiphany moment? Do you need to see yourself with new eyes as did the woman at the well? Are you longing for a better way? Are you hiding? Take heart. Jesus does not play games with us. His knowledge brings dignity and His Truth brings freedom to be known at deep levels of our human complexity. He does not rewind our past, He redeems it. In the economy of grace, nothing of your life is wasted. [bctt tweet="Jesus does not rewind our past, He redeems it. In the economy of grace, nothing of your life is wasted. #BISblog //" via="no"] Today, God has used my brokenness to bring beauty to so many women whose lives are scarred with life’s bitter circumstances and mistakes, especially women in my culture. To be fully seen without reserve is liberating. I am humbled to see what God is able to do with our wounds. Wounds result in scars, but those scars become the very stories that can change our world! Made New We are made for so much more than secrets and brokenness. Healing and freedom are real and love is not a prize to be won but a sacred gift to be received and cherished. Running and hiding does not heal any hurt. Turning to Christ does. And as we groan within ourselves, waiting for the redemption of our bodies (Romans 8:23), waiting for the day when all will be made new (Revelation 21:4), here and now, we are invited to come to the Cross where true resurrection takes place. Here, we see a glimmer of that eternity that is ours, through the redemptive healing power of the Cross. Here we see even as we are seen, here we behold even as we are loved. Come and “see” a man who told me everything I have ever done!   [bctt tweet="Seen and Loved: My Conversion from Atheism to Catholicism #BISblog //" via="no"]   Michelle Karen D’Silva is a Catholic speaker based in the small little peninsula of Qatar. With an immense passion for discipleship and youth, she finds herself most at home when laughing and conversing with young people over karak and hummus. She is a huge (almost stalker-level) fan of Pope Benedict XVI who constantly inspires her to live out the “call to greatness” as a woman in ministry, wife to a doting hubby, and mama to two constantly hungry sheep. Find out more about her here.