Far too many times, I’ve let Sundays be my catch-all days. My “I didn’t have time to get this done yet, so I’ll just do it today” days. Sundays, in my home, have seen the likes of grocery store runs, loads of laundry, and last-minute dinners. The Sunday Special It’s easy to let Sunday slip into the machine of the rest of the week. But Scripture is pretty clear when it comes to the sabbath. In fact, Jesus goes as far as commanding us to keep it holy. Rest. Do not do any unnecessary work. We’ve got the guidelines right in front of us. But often, Sunday can fall into the same pits as Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Keeping Holy the Sabbath As a young girl, I thought “keeping Sunday holy” meant it was extra important to pray a family Rosary or to read about the Saints. And those are great things to do on the sabbath! In my adulthood, I’ve added a few new methods of rest, leisure, and prayer. Read the Gospel before Mass. By reading and reflecting on the Gospel, either alone or with my husband, I am able to participate more fully in Mass. Plus, it serves as a moment of peaceful prayer time in the morning that can set the pace for my day. I like to make it extra enjoyable by pouring a hot cup of coffee and playing Gregorian chant in the background. By creating an atmosphere that feels holy and restful, I am able to invite the Lord in so that He can be glorified in a special way throughout my day. Dress for the King. On Sundays, I try to put a little extra thought and time into my appearance. Not out of vanity, but rather because I think it’s only fitting to swap my joggers for a sharper getup when I’m going to see the King! By dressing up a bit and maybe even wearing a little eyeliner, I remind myself of Who I’m going to see! It makes it feel like a special day. Take a drive. Sunday drives are one of my all-time favorite rituals. This started when I was growing up in a big family, living 25 minutes away from our parish. Often, my dad would take the extra long way home from Mass. Some Sundays it drove us absolutely mad. But I’ve come to cherish those memories, and seek to apply them to my own life. Taking a Sunday drive means more than tacking on a few more minutes in the car. It’s the interior posture of not being in a hurry to get somewhere, noticing the passing sights through the window, and maybe listening to music through the car speakers. Taking a Sunday drive cultivates a spirit of simplicity, gratitude, and rest. Bake. Baking is something I have always loved to do. However, at this point in my life, it’s hard to justify whipping up two dozen chocolate chip cookies every night of the week when it’s just my husband and I at home. So I’ve reserved Sunday as a baking day. I look forward to scrolling through my unending log of pinned recipes and carefully select one to test out. Baking on Sunday is about slowing down and being intentional. It is literally a measured activity; slow and steady. Baking fills the air with a sweet aroma that is both pleasantly hopeful and delightfully nostalgic. Whatever you do, make it routine. I know lots of people who keep their Sabbath holy and restful in a host of other ways besides the methods I employ. What I have found is that the rhythm of Sunday is crucial. It is, and should feel, so different than any other day of the week. Humans are habitual. Certain actions and habits spark certain mindsets and responses. When we put on our gym clothes, we can get in the mindset of breaking a sweat. When we brew the sleepy-time tea, we settle in for bed. In a similar way, building up a Sunday routine can assist in developing a spirit of prayer through our gratitude and rest! Sundays are not meant to be a stressful day of suppressing things we wish we had completed during the week. Rather, they are a sweet gift from God meant to order our days and reset our minds, bodies, and souls. How do you keep holy the sabbath? Share your ideas and rhythms in the comments below! [bctt tweet="Keeping Holy the Sabbath: Why It Matters + How to Do It #BISblog //" via="no"] Bridget Nohara is an Ohio girl who recently moved to Canada after marrying her policeman husband. She is a proud Franciscan University of Steubenville alum, loves low-key outdoor activities (no cliff jumping, please!), enriching podcasts, and cooking without a recipe.

I recently got a Netflix account. I know, it’s been around a while. But I have been trying to avoid it, as I have heard so many people talk about “binging” Netflix. What did that even mean? I quickly found out. Excessive Indulgence I’m a sucker for a good period piece, and the streaming services have no shortage of them. Some virtuous, many not. I found myself watching them for hours at night after the kids went to bed. One night, as I struggled to turn off the TV, I thought, "This is what they mean by binge watching." By definition, to binge includes “excessive indulgence.” Excessive indulgence of anything cannot be a good idea. But I thought that the evenings, after the chaos of putting the kids to bed, was my time and my choice, right? Or is it? Justification I felt myself wanting to watch the next episode of a series like when you read a page-turner and stay up for hours. I found myself tempted to watch during the day, and frequently did. Then I thought, I could be doing so many better things with my time. I rationalized. I work hard as a wife and mom and deserve a little “me time” or “down time.” I got hooked on shows only because my curiosity to see “what happens next” would nag at me during the day. I found myself watching TV while doing the dishes, folding the laundry, and even cooking. Something More In His loving and gentle way, God was calling me to more. To a better use of my time. Anything else is likely more virtuous. Mindless entertainment, which can be good at times, should be in moderation. And perhaps in much smaller amounts. [bctt tweet="In His loving and gentle way, God was calling me to more. To a better use of my time. #BISblog //" via="no"] How to Break the Binge Habit In reality, our time is not our own. It’s His. We are not our own, we are His. If you are stuck in a Netflix rut like I was, I suggest the following: 1. Pray about it. Follow the nudging of the Holy Spirit to take a break or cut back. Ask what He would have you do with your downtime that may be more life-giving to you and others. 2. Get real about your motivations. Are you trying to escape from something? Is there something in need of healing that you don’t want to face? Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal this you. Chances are you already know. Seek healing. Open His Word, it is living and active and will sanctify and heal you. Seek the Sacrament of Reconciliation if appropriate for your situation. Ask God to show you how to fill your soul and be recharged without “escaping.” He created you beloved, He knows what you need. Ask Him. 3. Run to Him. There is so much goodness our Father is waiting to give us, but we have to be ready to receive it. Are we using the gift of our time wisely? He has better things for you. Turn to Him. At the end of the day, when you feel like you have nothing left to give, before you turn on the TV, pause. Find a comfortable place to sit. Pour your heart out to Him. Open His Word, and be patient. Prune away the inconsequential fillers of time like Netflix or scrolling your phone for the extraordinary. He is waiting. He will open doors of refreshment that we have not imagined. But we must first turn off the noise. Have you broken a binge habit before? What worked for you? [bctt tweet="Breaking the Binge #BISblog //" via="no"] Amy Hobson is a Catholic convert who lives with her husband and three kids in the college town of Norman, Oklahoma. When she’s not taxi-ing everyone around, she loves being outside, strolling book stores, sipping lattes, and living life in community. Her husband calls her an ammeter theologian and her kids think she’s funny. When time and energy permit, she loves to write. Find out more about her here.

When despair grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting for their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. -Wendell Berry   This poem, "The Peace of the Wild Things", is one of Wendell Berry’s most popular and beloved poems, and one of my personal favorites. My grandparents have it framed in their kitchen and I stop and read it every time I visit them. I have reflected on it and read it numerous times. But recently, I realized why it appeals to me so much: it is full of Catholic imagery. Worry: A Universal Experience Berry, a Kentucky farmer and writer, is a well-known Christian, and his faith seeps into his work. This poem is no different. Berry begins his poem by speaking to a human experience that, Catholic or not, parent or not, everyone will experience: worry. We have all experienced the insomnia that is the result of late-night worry. Maybe the source of our anxiety was an unexpected diagnosis, an argument with a spouse, or injustices present in the world. Lying in bed feels helpless when we are worried. And, for some reason, wandering about in the night as we think seems more productive than remaining in bed, tossing and turning. Encountering God in the Wild In the poem, Berry wanders outdoors and feels himself surrounded by grace. As Catholics, grace is much more than an abstract concept, it has a very physical component. In the Sacraments, we feel the water poured over our heads, we hear the words of absolution, we taste the Bread of Life. I think the “grace of the world” that Berry speaks of is the presence of God in His physical creation. In Matthew 6, Jesus says: Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than they?   He continues on a few verses later: Learn from the way the wildflowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?   Here, Jesus tells us very plainly we can find grace in the natural world. In fact, I think He is saying it is one of His intended purposes for the natural world. It exists to bring us peace and rest and to ease our worry. How could we not feel His grace when surrounded by something He so lovingly created? The Peace of the Wild Things The magnificent Catholic churches I have seen all over the world were built to draw our attention to something—Someone—greater than ourselves. The splendor of the mountains, the green grass, the flowing stream, are the cathedral God built for Himself at the beginning of time. Just like Berry, I have felt grace present in the natural world. Gazing at millions of twinkling stars in the night has a way of making my problems feel smaller, less pressing, and finite in the presence of something so infinite. He can be trusted with our worries and our cares. Step Outside The next time you find yourself riddled with anxiety and unable to sleep, I hope you will read this poem, and then step outside into the night. I hope you will look up the stars and find hope in those twinkling lights in the dark. I hope each little star you count brings you closer and closer to the caring arms of Our Lord. Just as the love and grace God extends us is endless, so are the ways in which He can extend it to us. Berry’s poem is a welcome reminder that we are invited to “rest in the grace of the world.” [bctt tweet="BIS Reads: The Peace of the Wild Things #BISblog //" via="no"] Bond Strong lives in the mountains of southwest Virginia with her husband, Reece, and their two sons, Willis and Harmon. She owns a locally-focused food, gift, and antique shop. She is a former Methobapticostal, and her conversion story can be found here.

My friend told me he is gay. I love him dearly but he wants me to celebrate him coming out. What should I do? My sister wants to move in with her boyfriend. How do I tell her that’s not a good idea? My cousin swears and takes God’s Name in vain all the time. How do I tell him it bothers me? My friend gets drunk every weekend and hooks up with strangers. How do I tell her she is worth so much more? Called to Love If you have ever struggled with discerning whether you should speak truth in love or remain silent in fear of turning someone away from God, you are not alone. We are striving to be more like Jesus, and we all know people who live their lives in a way that is not pleasing to Him. Knowing His Heart can give us peace and confidence in His truth and allow us to be better examples of His love to everyone we love. We can come to know His Heart by coming to know Him. Every Sin Has a Backstory Have you ever tried to watch a TV show from the middle? Started on season 4, episode 7? Have you ever begun a movie halfway through? Read the end of a book but not the beginning or middle? Starting anything in the middle leaves us with an incomplete picture and missing information. We all sin because we think it will make us happy. So in these instances, the missing information is why someone thinks their sin will make them happy. What life circumstances or events have led them to the belief that immoral choices and behaviors will give them what their hearts desire? Do they even know they are behaving in a way that is not pleasing to God? In these moments, two reactions on opposite ends of the spectrum seem to be common: It does not matter what they know or have lived because sin is sin and it needs to be called out. I cannot judge their behavior because they have had a rough life and do not need me scolding them about their choices. But we are called to be like Jesus. So what does that mean when Jesus Himself responded to sin so many different ways? Jesus’ Response to Sin Two instances in the life of Christ come to mind. The first one is the story of the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11). After saving her life from condemnation, Jesus simply tells the woman to go and sin no more. The second one is the story of Jesus in the temple (Matthew 21:12-17). Jesus overturns tables and benches and drives people out of the temple. These are very different reactions to sin. They both reveal love and truth, but they don’t really give insight as to how we should react to sin. Should we simply tell our loved ones to sin no more? Should we walk away because we are sinners, too, like the scribes and pharisees ready to stone the adulteress? Or should we call them out, overturn tables, and rightfully defend God’s honor? Maybe the information Jesus had dictated His response. I cannot speak to what Jesus was thinking, but maybe He knew the woman in adultery had become enslaved to this life (of adultery) because she was seeking love and acceptance. Another possibility is that she thought it was the only way to provide for her needs or the needs of her family. He did not need to explain to her why adultery was wrong, so He didn’t. He simply revealed the love of God through honoring her, keeping her from being stoned, and not scolding her as she had already experienced. As for the money changers in the temple, He was speaking to the very people who went around stoning and punishing people for not obeying God’s law. Here they were disobeying that same law they so pridefully carried out in God’s house. Jesus, firmly reminded them that God’s house is a house of prayer. They needed this kind of intense awakening. Case By Case Love is relational. You do not need to know the backstory of every sin to love the sinner the way they need to be loved. You just need to know there is one. We were created to love and be loved. When we refuse God's love, or if no one has revealed it to us, we seek it elsewhere. We do not always realize immediately that fulfillment cannot be found in a life of sin. Our role is to reveal God’s love to them. How we do that? Love vs. Love There are people who think that standing on a mountain top calling people out for their sins is the most loving thing to do for society. There are also people who think letting people discover for themselves what sin is and staying out of their business is the best thing to do. Who’s to say what is the right way? Well, Jesus is. Jesus calls us into relationship with Him, and through that relationship we can know His Heart and truly love our neighbor. No More Thoughts and Prayers? Through knowing the Person of Jesus, we can come to know His Heart, how He loves, and share who He is with those in our lives. I have heard it said, “No more thoughts and prayers! We need to take action.” Oswald Chambers eloquently says, “God does not exist to answer our prayers, but by our prayers we come to discern the mind of God.” Prayer is how we come to know Jesus. Only through a relationship with God, that we come to experience through prayer, can we know what actions and words reveal who He made us to be. We cannot fill an empty glass with another empty glass. By filling our hearts with the love of Christ and the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, He will love through us. Go Make Disciples Let's not be afraid. Scripture calls us to be courageous. Sometimes we are too harsh in revealing God’s love. If that is the case, seek forgiveness. If we do not feel bold enough to speak truth, seek confidence in His truth: There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. -1 John 4:18   What helps you discern how to best respond like Christ in the face of sin? What has worked in the past? [bctt tweet="Every Sin Has a Backstory #BISblog //" via="no"] Mary Morasso graduated from Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit, MI with a bachelor's in Pastoral Theology. She taught high school Theology for several years but stepped down after giving birth to her daughter, Daniella. There is nothing she loves more than being a mom but she also loves to craft, read, write, sell homes as a realtor, and spend time with family.

For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. // Romans 5:19 Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Michelle Slough from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Coming up with something to give up for Lent was easy as a child. I would give up my soda habit and tease my brother for his foolish lack of foresight in giving up all sweets. Didn’t he know Lent was 40 days? That was way too long to go without chocolate. Maturing in Lent As I grew up, the question became more complicated. I learned somewhere along the way about the idea of centering Lenten penances around prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, but those concepts were still hazy to me. Among my college friends, it was popular to set wildly demanding Lenten practices for ourselves. One friend had a list of about a dozen things she was giving up for Lent taped above her dorm room bed. Another year, my housemates and I did a communal penance bowl that we had to blindly pick from each morning. “No furniture for a day” was really more fun than penance, but woe betide the unlucky person who picked “Cold shower.” At other times, Lent became almost like a Catholic January 1st, with everyone setting “resolutions” rather than adopting spiritual practices. Yes, some of these were spiritually-minded, but often they had secondary goals like saving money by not going out to eat or losing weight by fasting from sugar. A Desire for Deeper As much as I probably grew in my relationship with God through all those Lenten practices—both the good Lents and the spectacular failures (deciding to give up bedding for Lent was deeply ill-advised and lasted only a few days)—something about the way I did Lent each year seemed scattered. Few of the practices seemed to have any effect past the end of the season. The more resolution-like ones lasted about as long as most New Year’s Resolutions once Easter had arrived, and the deeply penitential ones often seemed pointlessly hard with no clear direction. Lenten Clarity One year, as I browsed the typical Lenten reading materials that parishes distribute, I read a line about Lent being a time to focus on what is specifically preventing you from having the best possible relationship with God. This struck me as obvious enough in the moment, so I brushed past it. But over the next few days, something shifted into place. For Lent, I would identify the one thing that most hindered my relationship with God, and I would focus all of my attention on that. That very first year, I spent hours in the Adoration chapel, trying to discern what was the most persistent difficulty in my spiritual life. Finally, I settled on the idea of hunger. I’d been reading about the Saints desiring God so deeply that it felt like a physical need, and I wanted to feel that. So that Lent, I designed what I did around a theme of “Hungering for God.” Choosing a Theme for Lent This led to a practice I continue using today of theming my Lent around my biggest spiritual obstacle. It has taken many of the intervening years to refine the practice, but each and every one of those years has been a time of growth. I’ve had themes such as: Sorrow Discipline Entering the Desert Order Detachment For each, I chose practices for Lent that specifically addressed those spiritual needs. Narrowing the Focus After a few years, I decided to limit myself to exactly three practices, one for each of the traditional focus areas of Lent: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. The year I picked “Order,” for example, I decided to read the Gospel for the day each morning and write a few lines about it as my prayer practice. For “Detachment,” I fasted from listening to the radio in my car to part myself with a small worldly comfort in favor of silence. When my focus was “Discipline,” anytime I was annoyed by someone, I committed to giving $5 to a charity that reminded me of something that person would care about. One particularly fruitful Lent, “Only Jesus” was my theme, and my form of fasting was requiring myself to take any significant events in my life before Jesus in the Adoration chapel before texting any of my friends for input. Sometimes my choices were specific and demanding, while other times they were intangible and difficult to define. But all were directed towards my one identified spiritual theme or battle for that year. Worth the Struggle There are some times when Lent still feels like a struggle, when I wonder if I’m ever really growing in relationship with God. And my practice, even when it is the most fruitful, is still, at its core, imperfect. But I think that’s part of the point of Lent. This Lent, identify what is most keeping you from God. Then, focus all your prayer and attention on fighting that obstacle. Go out into the desert for these forty days and wrestle with it. Use the unique grace and gifts of this penitential season to give you strength as you draw closer to the Lord through this time. Let this be the year that our Lenten practices don’t dwindle away and stop after Easter like the most well-intentioned New Year’s Resolutions. May they instead continue to bear fruit in our spiritual lives. Have you ever chosen a theme for Lent? Will you this year? Share your ideas in the comments below! [bctt tweet="Choosing a Theme for Lent #BISblog //" via="no"] Abigail Saffert is a grad student turned college writing instructor turned retail manager. Her Catholic Studies background, her M.A. in English, and the unnecessary amount of library cards crammed into her purse testify to her lifelong love of reading and writing. She appreciates that there’s a patron Saint for coffee houses because she thinks it justifies the amount of coffee she drinks in a day.

The Lord is kind and merciful. // Psalm 103:8a Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Abigail Katherine Rose from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

It had been a “bleak midwinter” in West Michigan, to say the least. I did not experience the normal delight and fascination with the cold months as we muddled through over a dozen snow days. My cheer at seeing the white flakes descend and cover the earth with a bright and beautiful blanket waned as the temperatures dropped below zero. I experienced something foreign to me during that post-Christmas season, something akin to fear. Powerless We lost our power for 30 hours. My poor husband was stuck in the house, getting more frigid by the minute, attempting to entertain our four young children without electricity. Although the first day they had fun running all over the house with their flashlights and “camping,” by the second day they were bored and cold. Our thermostat dipped to 49 degrees. My closest family members were either without power themselves or had contagious illnesses. Without an alternative heat source, I felt powerless (no pun intended) and trapped. Father to the Rescue After 24 hours, my dad called to say he would pack up his extra generator and some gas and make the trek over to our house. A 35-minute drive took over an hour as my 73-year-old father traveled through snow-laden roads and icy conditions. He hot-wired our furnace and got the refrigerator plugged in, and 30 minutes later our power came back on. And since they call him “Mr. Lucky,” he even got a flat tire on the way home to thank him for his efforts. Fits of Fear A couple weeks later, we were up visiting my parents at their country acreage, the weather much like it had been that frozen day. My young boys with ceaseless energy are undaunted by the cold, so I went outside with my four-year-old. As I stood watching him play in the sandbox turned “snow box,” the 30+ mph winds howled through the pines. It was an eerie sound. That feeling of fear returned. Or was it insecurity? Will we lose power again? Will these bone-chilling days never end? Memories of my two-year-old’s beet-red, ice-cold hands came flooding back. He refuses to wear mittens because he’s two. What more can I do to keep my little ones warm? Feeling Cold The next day I rode to work and noticed how much brighter the sky was. The days were surely getting longer and the sun shone brightly already at 7:30 a.m. The promise of spring! It was getting closer. I continued to ponder what it meant to feel cold, or as if the wind could rip the skin right off your face. We lost power for a day-and-a-half and the wind whipped for another two days. But what about those who feel cold practically permanently? The homeless, those who cannot afford adequate heat, even those who endure cold-hearted people or suffer the hardness of their own hearts? The cold made me feel so insecure, so uncomfortable, so discontented. I just wanted to run to the nearest fireplace and drink a cup of hot chocolate. God's Warmth As I continued my musing I realized that my own relationship with God has, in many ways, grown cold. When do I talk to Him? Do I view Him as my friend, my love? I make so many excuses for myself. I’m so busy, I’m exhausted, my kids need me. Half the time we even forget to say grace before meals! I also realized I tend to make biting comments about coworkers or family members with the pretext that “I’m just joking.” My words and behavior toward others lack warmth. Perhaps I am even making them feel the same insecurity I felt. I am not one to quote Scripture or speak often of God’s unfailing love, but I can let His warm light shine through my kind words and loving actions. So as the change of seasons draws nigh, I also vow for a change of my own heart. [bctt tweet="Feeling Cold #BISblog //" via="no"] Tami Urcia is a Western Michigander who spent early adulthood as a missionary in Mexico, studying theology and philosophy, then worked and traveled extensively before finishing her Bachelor’s Degree in Western Kentucky. She loves finding fun ways to keep her four boys occupied and quiet conversation with the hubby. She works at Diocesan, does Spanish/English translations, and guest blogs. You can find out more about her here.

Valley of Our Lady Monastery is a community of Cistercian nuns who live a life of contemplative prayer according to the Rule of St. Benedict and the traditions of the Cistercian Order. Consecrated to God for the sanctification of the Church and the redemption of the world, they dedicate their lives to a solemn liturgy prayed in Latin with Gregorian chant, private prayer, lectio divina, and manual labor within the silence and enclosure of the monastery. Nuns are women who commit themselves to seeking God in a radically pure and intense way through imitating Jesus Christ. Above all, we follow His way of obedience, humility, chastity, poverty, and prayer; and the motive for this life is both His love for us and our love for Him. The History of Contemplative Monastic Life Contemplative monastic life, a particular way of following the call to be a nun, has a long history among Christians. As the persecutions in the early Church subsided, many faithful longed to bear witness to Christ in a way as radical as the red martyrdom of blood. To fulfill this desire, they embraced what came to be known as the white martyrdom: a life dedicated to God through prayer and penance. Although this vocation has had different outward expressions through the centuries, it is most often lived according to vows, in community, under an established rule of life. The Cistercian Order The Cistercian Order is one way of living this contemplative monastic life. It began in 1098, when a small group of Benedictine monks in France decided to form a new community where they could live their vows more fervently. They built a new monastery at Citeaux (in Latin, Cistercium), and as they grew over time, founded many more monasteries all over Europe. The Order now has houses all over the world. With its Benedictine spirituality, the Cistercian Order has always embraced a simple but intense liturgy, hard manual labor, and a sincere search for God through humility, obedience, and deep personal, contemplative prayer. Our Way of Life Practically speaking, this way of life takes the form of a balanced alternation of prayer and work. Beginning at 3:30 each morning, our days alternate between times of communal liturgy (consisting of seven periods of chanting the Psalms and other prayers in Latin), private prayer and reading, work, and recreation, all flowing from and leading to the daily celebration of the Mass. To support ourselves, we make and sell altar bread for Holy Communion, which we ship to parishes across the country. We also engage in the daily work of maintaining our home. Following the Benedictine tradition, the vows we take are those of obedience, of stability (commitment to our monastic community), and of commitment to the monastic way of life (conversatio morum—often translated as "ongoing conversion"). Although we do not take a vow of silence, as people often think, we do live in silence, speaking only during specific times of recreation or as necessary to accomplish our work in the monastery. Our Community We currently number 22, ranging in age from 24 to 89. Our median age is 46. We have come to the monastery from all over the USA as well as a few other countries, including Mexico, Brazil, the Philippines, and Canada. We all bring with us different backgrounds and talents. Some of us never graduated from college; others hold bachelor’s or master’s degrees in a wide range of subjects, such as nursing, chemistry, entomology, mathematics, art, and computer science. Many Gifts, the Same Spirit The Lord knows how best to use the gifts He gives His children, and nothing ever goes to waste when we follow His will. He has drawn us all together, with our different backgrounds and talents, for a reason. Sometimes He asks us to let go of a particular activity in order to purify our intentions and allow us to love Him for Himself instead of for His gifts. But He also uses the gifts He has given us in ways more rich and rewarding than we could ever have imagined, for our own good and that of our sisters and all His people. Although we do not often see or hear of the effects in the world of our sacrifices and prayer and relationship with God, we know by faith, and sometimes through the testimony of others, that our life of love truly does bear fruit, in graces of conversion and healing and growth in charity for all His people. Our Big Challenge We are blessed in this beautiful vocation, a vocation for which we cannot thank God enough. That said, however, we also face an enormous challenge. Our community, located near Madison, WI, was founded by Cistercian sisters from Switzerland, who came in 1957 at the request of the first Bishop of the Diocese of Madison and with the blessing of their Abbot General. They took up residence in the summer home of an early governor of Wisconsin. Since then, as our community has grown, we have done our best to maintain, expand, and creatively reconfigure our surroundings. Never intended to be a permanent monastery and showing the inevitable effects of time and the elements, however, our buildings are not simply worn out and ill-suited to contemplative monastic life. They are increasingly unsafe, unhealthy, and unable to accommodate further growth. The Reality of Human Needs Although we are devoted to prayer, we are real human beings with the real physical need of a safe and healthy environment, conducive to our way of life. Our current buildings do not and cannot sufficiently meet these requirements. Furthermore, precisely because we have been called to prayer, we have vowed to live in a way radically dependent upon God alone. We sustain ourselves by the work of our hands, but we do not accumulate wealth. We therefore trust in God and the generosity of those who, through their opportunities and work in the world, have greater material resources than we do, to help us build a much-needed new monastery. With all that in mind, we have embarked on the adventure of building a lasting Cistercian monastery here in Wisconsin. Since we remain the only nuns of our particular Order in the English-speaking world, we are excited by this opportunity to put our roots down more deeply here in this place to which we have been called. But we do find the challenge daunting. If you perceive God calling you to help us, we invite you to learn more about our project (and to see a video casting our vision for the new monastery) here. We Would Love to Pray for You! You are welcome to contact us with prayer requests by emailing us: prayers@valleyofourlady.org. We'd also love to answer any questions you have: nmfund@valleyofourlady.org. On our website, you can also find information about signing up to receive our newsletter. Please keep us in your prayers and know of ours for you. [bctt tweet="Living as a Cloistered Cistercian Nun #BISblog //" via="no"] Written by Sr. Mary Bede.

The Works of Mercy are charitable actions by which we come to the aid of our neighbor in his spiritual and bodily necessities. Instructing, advising, consoling, comforting are spiritual works of mercy as are forgiving and bearing wrongs patiently. The corporal works of mercy consist especially in feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned and burying the dead. Among all these, giving alms to the poor is one of the chief witnesses to fraternal charity: it is also a work of justice pleasing to God. -CCC 2447   When I asked a friend of mine the names of all her kids, they rolled off her tongue. They were short, sweet, and simple. A few weeks later, I asked how a certain one was doing, and with a smile she told me, “She was a foster child for us. She’s returned to her family. Meet Molly*.” And just like that, we talked about this precious child who would be joining their family for an indeterminate amount of time. Another friend, who I love very much, introduced me to her “bonus daughter” during a gathering on the Fourth of July. With being close in age to her other daughter, they can be mistaken for twins. Fostering a child is not easy, but it is worth it. You Don't Have to Be Perfect to Be a Foster Parent It's easy to believe we have to be perfect or have everything together to be a foster parent, or to advocate for children in the courtroom like a Court Appointed Special Advocate. Those kids don’t need perfect. They need us as we are. When we look at the Catechism and the Spiritual and Corporal Works of Mercy, there is not a caveat that this is only for the perfect man or woman. It is lined out for everyone who has ears to hear. It is a work of justice to be present to and available for these kids. We know that St. Thérèse of Lisieux was a whiny, tantrum-prone child. Still, however, she became a Saint through her Little Way. St. Catherine of Siena was bold. St. Thomas the Apostle doubted. These are humans, doing the extraordinary in the ordinary by listening to the calling that God and God alone has placed on them. How to Support Foster Families There are many ways that we can be involved, whether our call leads us to fostering and adopting, advocating, or just being good friends to those in our community who do these things. Supporting each individual foster family can look very different, depending on our relationships. I bring coffee to these wonderful women. I pray over their children and their various appointments, meetings, and struggles. I try to visit them as they are, realizing that sometimes, mess happens, and there is a grace that is indescribable in accepting scruffy, bumpy, slightly sticky hospitality. After all, it is sometimes a much larger struggle to displace your biological children and your foster children into someone else’s house due to the unspoken fear that they will be left here in this strange place again. Please, with this in mind, realize that it is going to be easier and better to uproot your family into their environment for a visit than meet outside of their home. Donating to Them First Many foster children have unspeakable baggage in their own heart, and little physical baggage. Things get lost, broken, or forgotten. When you are going through your own items and considering donating, please reach out to your friends who foster and offer them first dibs. You never know when someone will get the call at 4 a.m. on a Sunday morning in the dead of winter to bring in a new child and discover all of the clothes they own are a size too small and two seasons behind. Being There for the Ones Who are There It will never be easy. It will never result in accolades. What it will result in, ultimately, is the phrase one of my friends who advocated for 15 years once told me her child told her: “You were there for me when no one else was. When I changed schools, or I moved some place new, you were there for me. You believed in me, and you gave me a familiar face. I always knew that I could count on you.” That is what being heroic and being the face of Christ can be in our world today. You don’t have to be a superhero; you just have to care. How do you support the foster families in your community? If you are a foster family, what other ways are helpful in receiving support from others? *name has been changed [bctt tweet="How to Support Foster Families #BISblog //" via="no"] Breanna Scott is a mother of two daughters on earth and three children in Heaven. Military spouse, theology major, and lover of all things winter, she resides in Indiana. You can find out more about her here.

If you choose you can keep the commandments, they will save you; if you trust in God, you too shall live. // Sirach 15:15 Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Michelle Slough from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

I was in my car when the 1985 song, “The Search is Over,” by Surrender came on the radio. I had not heard it in years, and for a moment it reminded me of being a 13-year old girl pining over some boy or another who refused to acknowledge my existence in a reasonable way like a bouquet of flowers, box of chocolates, or a boom box blaring a romantic song outside my bedroom window. (Then I remembered it was my Whitney Houston album I played at such somber times of adolescent angst—not Surrender.) Looking for Love... Lost in thought about those days when I would cocoon myself within my four lavender bedroom walls and lament my imperfect body, wardrobe, and life’s entirety, I had a most random thought of a certain guy. He was never my crush, or who I fixated on when I drowned myself in pity, or of whom I even had a fleeting thought when I sat idly and listened to sad songs about people who once knew love. I heard the lyrics, “The search is over. You were with me all the while,” and I thought of God. I was surprised at how my brain went from unrequited teenage infatuation to the essence of the total and complete love that is God. Yet it made sense to me because—in the time since record albums were replaced with cassette tapes, and cassette tapes were replaced with CDs, and CDs were replaced with music subscriptions, and music itself degraded into some sort of homage to one’s booty—I’ve searched for many things. I have searched for the perfect man, house, job, couch, school, church, outfit, plants, publisher, vacation, vocation, doctor, and dog. I have spent so very much time on a search of some sort. Nothing Compares What I found is that none of it compares to my relationship with God. In all of the searching that so often felt paramount to my satisfaction, to any chance of happiness, all I really needed was what I already had. An abiding God, who faithfully stands at my side, humoring my distractions, patiently awaits my many detours, and holds me upright despite wayward falls. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. // 1 Corinthians 15:58   [bctt tweet="In all of the searching that so often felt paramount to my satisfaction, to any chance of happiness, all I really needed was what I already had: an abiding God. #BISblog //" via="no"] With Us All the While So much of our world’s searching can be done in vain when we look to other people, things, accolades, and acceptance for value. Meanwhile, the love that God has for us is priceless, unconditional, unwavering, and inexhaustible. Anything else you are looking for is just a distracting spin on a turntable. It may take you round and round and fill your head with noise, yet the only thing I know that stops this pesky search innate to our humanity is God. I may not have realized it when I was thirteen, but He’s so much better than a boom box blaring outside my bedroom window. Besides, if you think about it, you’ll see He’s been with you all the while. [bctt tweet="The Search is Over #BISblog //" via="no"] Lara Patangan is a freelance writer and mother of two boys. She is currently working on publishing her first book about her mid-life mission to do works of mercy. You can find out more about her here.

The humanity of St. Peter has always captivated me—from his declaration at the Transfiguration that building tents is the best idea, to his fearless (albeit short-lived) walk across the sea, to his desperation with Jesus’ repeated interrogation on the beach after the Resurrection. Recently, though, I heard my new favorite story of St. Peter. A Lesser-Known Story of St. Peter In the years following Jesus’ Resurrection, the Roman officials became increasingly upset by the rapid growth of the Christian Faith and particularly the influence of St. Peter. So, Peter and some other early Christians decided that it would be best if he left Rome and continued his work elsewhere so that he would escape the threat of persecution. As Peter was fleeing Rome, feeling confident that he was doing what was best for him and the early Church, he had a life-altering encounter with Christ. Walking along the Aventine Hill, Peter had a vision of Jesus walking back toward the city. In pure shock and confusion, Peter asked, “Quo vadis, Domine?” which means, “Where are you going, Lord?” Jesus answered him, “I am going back to Rome to be crucified a second time.” Peter immediately understood what Jesus meant: he needed to turn around, continue his work in Rome, and offer his life for Christ. Peter did just that, and he was put to death shortly after his return to the city. Jesus' Will Above All Peter’s decision to leave Rome was not motivated solely by fear; he earnestly believed that he needed to proclaim the Gospel elsewhere. However, he didn’t consider the fact that giving his life for Christ was the ultimate witness to the Gospel. After learning this from his encounter with Christ, his perspective changed and so too did the course of his life. He suffered crucifixion, just as Jesus did, and he willingly endured the pain and torture because he knew that if Christ willed it, then it was worthwhile and holy. I Am Like Peter Often, I find myself embodying many of St. Peter’s characteristics, whether that be wanting to pitch a tent and never leave a retreat or taking my eyes off Christ when I feel confident in my own ability only to quickly falter. The experiences of my own faith life seem to mirror those of St. Peter in many of these human ways. As I consider where God is calling me to go next, I have been reflecting quite a bit on St. Peter, specifically the story of Quo Vadis. Right now, I am in a state of great unknown and immense transition during my senior year of college. There seem to be countless paths that I could embark on in a few months. And I am entirely unsure which one is right because they are all sincerely good and holy options. Relying on my own judgment and perception, however, will not suffice. With so many possibilities during this season of transition, I know I have to continually turn to God and allow Him to reveal how I can best witness to the Gospel. Where are YOU Going, Lord? Like St. Peter, my own human understanding is limited, and I need God to speak to my heart and show me how I am called to serve Him in new ways. This is much easier said than done. In any decision I am faced with, I am often quick to make my decision based on what I think will best serve me immediately. Sometimes my intentions are good—Peter thought that he was doing what was best for himself and the early Christian community by leaving Rome. But when I make a decision without prayerfully discerning if it aligns with the will of God for me, even a well-meaning choice can lead me from the path God desires me to walk. If Peter had not submitted to the call to martyrdom, we wouldn’t have his incredible witness to Christ and his commitment to the Gospel, not to mention the beautiful Basilica of St. Peter as the heart of the Church in Rome. How Do We Know? Knowing the will of God for our lives requires patience and listening, two areas that are not my strengths. Talking to God comes much more naturally than quietly listening for His voice and patiently waiting for His movements in my life. I often find myself struggling to persevere in doing so. Like St. Peter at the Transfiguration, I always want to be doing something rather than quietly and attentively listening to what God has to say to me. It’s often much easier for me to keep busy than to take a step back and discern where God is leading me to witness to Him. I have learned so much about what it means to follow God’s will in my life by reflecting on the story of St. Peter and Quo Vadis. If I am only attuned to my own ideas and desires, I could be missing the way that God is calling me to serve Him. God’s call isn’t always easy to carry out, but it will bear abundant fruit not only in my own life but also in the lives of those around me. Ultimately, following God’s will for my life is the surest way to joy, fulfillment, and salvation. So I know that it is in my best interest to humbly follow where He leads, even if I don’t fully understand it or even if it is uncomfortable. “Quo vadis, Domine?” Where are you going, Lord? Because I want to follow wherever you lead me. [bctt tweet="Quo Vadis?: On the Humanity of St. Peter #BISblog //" via="no"] Katie Eilerman is a St. Louis transplant to Kansas City, where she attends Rockhurst University, a small Jesuit university, to study Secondary Education, English, and Theology. She finds God’s love in iced vanilla lattes, walks around the park, and genuine conversation with friends, and shares it through liturgical music, contagious laughter, and letters sent via snail mail.

I am always amazed by the economy of a good short story. Authors like Flannery O'Connor, for example, teach us more about grace and the human condition in a mere couple of pages than some theologians manage in a lifetime of work. I don't normally consider Tolkien, however, to be particularly conservative when it comes to word count. But I recently re-read his short story, "Leaf by Niggle," and I was struck for the first time by the succinctness and compactness of Tolkien's writing. He beautifully sums up some of the most fundamental truths of our Faith in a simple little story about a man called Niggle. If you haven't had a chance to read it, I highly recommend it. Our Desire to Create The story starts by introducing us to an ordinary painter, Niggle, who has a journey coming up but has not yet prepared for it. He's trying to finish his painting, and he longs to dedicate his time to his art, in particular, to his painting of a certain Tree. You might find some commentary suggesting that Niggle's art is completely self-indulgent, but assuming Tolkien's writing was at least somewhat autobiographical, I don't think that really was his intention. I don't think Tolkien would have viewed his creation of Middle Earth as a selfish endeavor, just as I don't think any one of us should feel guilty about taking time to pursue our creative passions. The desire to make something, to leave something behind, is a natural part of being human. If we are made in the image and likeness of God, who is Creator, then our own small creations are a reflection of Him. Anytime we focus our attention on creating something, whether it be knitting a pair of baby booties or setting a table or composing a symphony or painting a masterpiece—no matter how simple or grandiose the outcome—we are seeking something beautiful. We are looking toward Heaven, and that is a good thing. Our Need for Community As we near the part of the story that we, as readers, might interpret as Niggle's arrival to "Heaven," we see that, at the gateway to Paradise, Niggle finds himself within his own painting. But not necessarily as he painted it. Rather, he is immersed in the perfection he was always seeking as an artist. His Tree was "finished." But then Niggle, amidst the goodness of his now-perfect picture, realizes something is missing. He needs his neighbor, Parish. In Niggle's life, Parish is a constant source of interruption, frustration, and inconvenience. Quite frankly, he is annoying and self-absorbed. Time and again Niggle must put down his paintbrush to his assist his neighbor, even though the tasks are not always necessary or important. Parish is the very reason why Niggle cannot complete his painting. Holiness in Reliance on Others And yet, when they meet again in the afterlife, Parish and Niggle's conversation leads us to the most profound truth. Even though they are surrounded by the beauty that Niggle spent his life striving for, it was not due to his own art that he arrived there. They owe their sanctification to each other, and to the Intercessor who interceded on their behalf. They needed one another, not the other's strengths but rather their weaknesses, to give the opportunity to sacrifice, to do good deeds, to grow in virtue. There's nothing wrong with sitting down with our pen or picking up our guitar or returning to our paintbrush and finding joy in those moments of creation. Art, in as much as it seeks to capture a bit of Beauty and Truth does fulfill a part of us. But it’s incomplete. We are made to love, both as lover and beloved, so it requires someone else. Real happiness is only to be found in family and community life, through those who teach us to put the tools of our trade down, so we can pick up our crying child or the hand of our troubled sister. Those inconvenient, troublesome moments are where we will find true purpose, love and happiness. And, it's where we find our opportunity for holiness. Imperfect for Each Other We don't come together as families and communities so that we can be more efficient with our creation. None of us are "perfect for each other"; it's the opposite. We are imperfect for each other. What would we know about St. Monica if not for Augustine's failures? What would Story of a Soul be without the annoying sisters St. Therese encountered in the convent? When your baby is upset for no obvious reason, yet you pick her up anyway? Sanctification. When your friend calls on a busy evening, and you stop to talk her through a rough situation? Sanctification. It can't be done our own. It's easy to be grateful for the time we have to work, uninterrupted, on our "Leaf," whatever that might be. And we should! It's a gift to participate in the creative work of God. But we should be even more grateful for the opportunity to pause, to bear one another's burdens. And, harder still, to be grateful for the times when we ourselves are burdensome to those around us, allowing others the chance at holiness. Because we all are, at some point. If we weren't, how would we help each other get to Heaven? Our creations are never going to be sufficient for our salvation, no matter how great or lasting they are. Our Faith is not simply creative, but rather incarnational. The Creator of the cosmos Himself paused and took the most inconvenient form: an unplanned pregnancy, a helpless infant, who would bear all our sins, burdens, and infirmities. And it's in the messiness and inefficacies and annoyances of human interaction where we get to participate, albeit imperfectly and inadequately, in the work of salvation. That's where we find our hope and our redemption. Leaf by Niggle is Beautifully Human Tolkien's story of Niggle is ultimately one of optimism and reassurance. Like Niggle, most of us are pretty average. We aren't Michelangelo or Mozart...or even Tolkien. It's quite likely we won't leave any masterpiece behind. And even if we did, it would eventually turn to dust like Niggle’s earthly painting…like every other created thing. But no matter our wealth or status, whether our contributions are celebrated or overlooked, we all face interruptions and requests. We are all surrounded by needy people. We all have opportunities every day to make sacrifices for others. We all have a powerful intercessor, Our Mother, to intercede for us. We can all pray for the grace to say "yes" to our neighbor. Niggle’s finest hour was a simple act of service. It might be hard sometimes, but we can all do that. The journey to salvation is open to us all. [bctt tweet="BIS Reads: Leaf by Niggle #BISblog //" via="no"] Cheryl Witty-Castillo is a mother, freelance writer, and director of the Writing and Language Center at St. Mary’s Seminary. You can find out more about her here.

You are the light of the world. // Matthew 5:14 Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Zelie and Lou from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

I see Him in the most unlikely of places now. He appears in my peripheral vision as I pray, when a bird appears suddenly on my windowsill. My heart stirs in an unusual way when I see the sunset and realize that He created the world with such intention. A smile comes to my mouth and my eyes when the clerk at the checkout line in the grocery store tells me to have a blessed day, and really seems to mean it. Allowing more white space in my calendar invites stillness, which can be terrifying for many of us. It can be a bit uncomfortable starting the morning having so much unstructured time to fill as you look at all the blank space on the page. Many of us have too much on our plates and can’t begin to imagine what 30 minutes of quiet would be like, let alone eight hours. But, this is the place I found myself after moving to a new town once the children left for college. God is Everywhere Following our first move early in our marriage, I dug in my heels and allowed bitterness to burrow its way deeply into the crevices of my heart. A lot of statements with the word "never" played in a loop in my mind. “I will never make friends.” “This will never feel like home.” “I will never like living here.” Yet, God worked to slowly prove me wrong. I did make friends, our house became my home, and I cried and cried when I had to move again. Are Our Eyes—and Schedules—Open? What I discovered over the course of the next five moves is that God is present everywhere. We know this, and yet, how often do we live like we believe this truth? I know a lot of us are busy by virtue of our vocations as mothers, wives, daughters, and friends. But, how many of our activities are crammed into the already-full planners entertaining us as we subtly move further and further away from recognizing God in our day-to-day lives? [bctt tweet="God is present everywhere. We know this, and yet, how often do we live like we believe this truth? #BISblog //" via="no"] A Scavenger Hunt for God Turning your day into a scavenger hunt for God makes every minute an adventure. It can help you face the empty spans of time with hope rather than dread, or your busyness with peace rather than anxiety. While God does not hide Himself from us, our multi-tasking minds make it difficult for us to find Him. When my mind is playing a loop of the track I laid down full of “nevers” and “not going to happens,” it is nearly impossible for me to recognize God in my needy neighbor who inevitably stops me at my mailbox as I am hurrying out the door, late for my next appointment. I meet her in a rush of excuses and apologies, get in my car, and drive away with a undefined feeling that maybe I should have handled the conversation differently. Not liking the uncomfortable emotion, I listen to my favorite uplifting playlist to distract me from the questions that bubble up in silence. Taking Notice Our minds have the delightful way of beginning to notice what we are looking for. This season, I started to notice a certain color was coming back in fashion. Within days, I began seeing this shade of rust everywhere I looked. People were wearing rust, designers added rust accents to the rooms featured on decorating blogs. I stopped my scroll each time I saw rust on an Instagram post. What would happen if you started looking for God in the same way you hunt for this season hottest shoes? He Makes this Life Exciting Conducting a scavenger hunt for God makes life more interesting. God is present in so many parts of our day that, in the past, we might have been too distracted to notice. Waking up wondering where He is going to show up today adds a little bit of excitement to an otherwise ordinary day. This shift in your frame of reference can happen no matter how busy your schedule. Is He going to be in a phone call? Will He show up in the lightning in a late season storm? Will He be in the answer to a long forgotten prayer? Being on the lookout ensures you will not miss Him. The Transformation After I started my scavenger hunt, the conversations with my neighbor transformed. I began to notice the loneliness in her voice and see the relief in her eyes as we talked. When I was in a hurry, instead of avoiding her, I took the extra minutes to schedule a coffee visit for later in the week. It is amazing the places you find God in your day when you are on the look out for Him. [bctt tweet="A Scavenger Hunt for God #BISblog //" via="no"] Katie Kibbe is a cradle Catholic, raised in Catholic schools in Houston. After getting married, she and her husband moved a lot, which allowed her to experience life in a way that she had not quite planned. To celebrate their 25th anniversary and empty nest, they moved to yet another new state. With two children (one in college and another in law school) and their Jesus-loving dog, they enjoy challenging themselves to try new things outdoors. Katie is the author of Abide: Resting in the Unfailing Love of God. She loves tea with steamed milk, a long walk outdoors, and deep conversations about Jesus. You can find out more about her here.

In her deep anguish, Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying: Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head. -1 Samuel 1:10-11   In the midst of infertility, I found myself on my knees praying the words that Hannah prayed centuries before, though I skipped the part about the razor. I was twenty-six and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was promising. But still, I meant it. The truth of it shook me right there on my knees, on a worn bedroom carpet, my teary eyes gazing at the pattern of the quilt on my bed. I remember that I shuddered a bit before standing up. I had made an irrevocable vow, and I knew it. Keeping My Promise When my son was born about a year later, I was intentional about understanding and owning my beliefs in order to pass Truth on to him, and I found that faith was much bigger and more colorful than I’d been taught. Once I met Jesus, I was all-in on gaining relationship with Him and on raising my son up to God, just as I’d promised. My mother knew my son was special from the start. She had a gift of prophecy that was sometimes eerily correct and sometimes laughably wrong. But she always thought my son would live a big life, and that he’d tell lots of people about God. She never said what form that role might take, but it was something I believed as my son grew to be a four-year-old who built Bible scenes with blocks and figurines and made plans to open a free store for anyone who needed help. Once, during quiet prayer with my husband, my son answered a question aloud that my husband had been silently asking God in his mind with complete understanding and specificity. God was talking and my son was listening. Did I Fulfill My Vow? Like Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, my son grew in wisdom, age, and grace. After high school, he started at the small Catholic college where my husband works and which had become a spiritual home. We rejoiced at the goodness of God. Surely I had completed the work of my vow. I raised my son up to God the best I could and then delivered him into the hands of Jesus and His Mother on the campus of that special school where he’d find the work of his hands. My work was done, my promise fulfilled. I was wrong. Not My Plan, But His Merciful Love In the second year of college, things fell apart for my beloved son in a way I could never have anticipated. It affected his life and ours in every way you can imagine. The months that followed were a rollercoaster of concern, contingency, worry, and questioning. On my knees, I cried out to God, literally sobbing, yelling, and what my Irish ancestors would call keening. There was begging and negotiating and helping and misunderstanding and there was no peace. We were missing each other completely as our once-close relationship soured. I was at the end of my faith, begging God to finally help, to intercede, to rescue us. I had done my part and I was angry that God was not doing His. His Beloved Son Things are different now by the grace of God. My son is standing on his own, but this child’s road is not at all what I thought it would be. You might be wondering where the bravery is in this story that’s so filled with agony, dashed hopes, hysterics, and pain. During each one of those terrible days that stretched through almost two years of suffering, I knew that what God was calling me to was to let go of my son, finally and completely in submission and trust to His will. And I couldn’t do it. I’d often say that if my son ran off a cliff, then I’d go over with him, because how can you ever separate yourself from your child, even when he’s begging you to do it? Even when it’s God’s most primary call on your life? God's Not the Babysitter As my son prepared to move out on his own last month, I’d imagine myself in prayer at the door of the Father’s house with my baby boy in my arms. I had a list of instructions as you’d have for a babysitter and as Jesus stretched out His arms, I’d shrink back and say, “Oh, please, please don’t drop him. Don’t let him fall." And God couldn’t promise me that my son wouldn’t fall. But He did promise that he’d never ever be alone. It wasn’t enough for me. I held him tighter. As I continued in prayer, God reminded me that my son had a big mission and that everything that had happened, though it’s so hard to believe at times, was part of that plan. In order for my son to live the life he was called to live, I had to let him go. There was no choice in the matter. My Son's Mother In my mind’s eye, Mary, the Mother of God, was standing behind her Son. Jesus pointed to her and said that Mary would mother my son as her own. She’d hold him in her protection, feed him what he most needed to take in, cleanse him from the pain of the past, teach him the things he needed to learn, and show him how to walk on his own two feet. She’d be his mother as he grew into the calling that God had for him. In my prayer, I sighed and wrapped up my precious baby boy who holds my heart and my hopes and dreams. I kissed him on the forehead, looked into his eyes, and handed him to God, who loves him even more than I do, and I walked out the door. I gave my son to the Lord for all of his days, just as I promised I would all those years ago. Entrusting my child to Jesus through Mary was the hardest and bravest thing I’ve ever done. Any mothers of adult children out there? How has this reality played out in your own life and motherhood? [bctt tweet="Entrusting Our Children to God as They Grow #BISblog //" via="no"] Written by Kerry Campbell. You can find out more about her here.