At nine months postpartum, I was using the excuse of still nursing my youngest to not pay much attention to what kind of food and how much of it I was putting into my body. I blamed my crankiness on being tired from mothering three children ages four and under while managing a freelance writing and editing business. I was convinced that unless I ran six miles a day (not possible) and included kale in every other meal (double not possible), that was how it was going to be. I tried to ignore what I perceived as vanity and thus cultivated a sense of spiritual guilt. I was made in the image and likeness of God, so shouldn’t I love my body as it was, no questions asked? Really, the burden was more than pounds on the scale or inches at my waist. I was unhappy with the state I’d let myself get into. I didn’t want to play on the floor with the kids, because it meant tugging up my jeans to a place they wouldn’t stay. I stayed up too late, reading or watching TV, trying to find something that would fill the hole I was living in, and woke up tired again the next day. The time I spent in the morning worrying about what I’d wear made me crabby and late. A friend’s Facebook post was the tipping point that made me realize that how I felt, how I spent my precious time on earth did matter. The message was something to the tune of, “If not now, then when?” My mind, my body, and my soul are all connected, and I needed to find a way to recognize and honor that. It was time to make some changes. With the same friend as an accountability partner, I started eating healthier and I devoted just seven minutes each morning to exercise. These shamefully obvious changes were manageable, and they made a difference. Yes, my body is a gift from God, a temple of the Holy Spirit. I should be grateful for it, no matter its state. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be taking good care of it, too. My physical renewal ran parallel with a spiritual renewal. I learned this is true self-care: honoring the body I was given as a daughter of God, not to fit into a dress I’d deemed the right size, but so that I could better serve my Creator and God in my vocation. When I was fed with what I needed, I could give more of myself. I wanted to give more of myself. I wasn’t looking inside as much anymore, and so my attention was drawn outward. A lot of what I learned about myself and what I need to do to maintain my physical health translates into what I need as a spiritual being. [bctt tweet="My physical renewal ran parallel with a spiritual renewal. #BISblog"] Avoid Fillers We are what eat, or better, we are what we consume. Saint Ignatius of Loyola started to navigate a relationship with Christ when he realized how empty he felt after reading stories of knights and honor and how much better he felt when reading the lives of the Saints. When I made more time in my life for spiritual reading (I added ten minutes with a book after my seven minutes of physical exercise), I likewise found my desire to serve enriched. Spending less time on the couch meant I was more discerning about what movies and television shows I was making time for. I reflected on the books I was reading and started making more prudent choices. I limited the supposedly news websites I was clicking to. I got rid of the junk and replaced it with something that would encourage and inspire me. When I discovered the daily Decalogue of Saint John XXIII, I wanted to high-five him. He wrote, “Only for today, I will devote ten minutes of my time to some good reading, remembering that just as food is necessary to the life of the body, so good reading is necessary to the life of the soul.” Amen. Make It Part of Your Routine A gym membership does no good if you never make it inside. Likewise, the Holy Mass, Confession, the Rosary, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and spiritual books can’t have an effect in my life unless I chose to engage with them. If you want to see a change in either component of your life, you have to make a change first. Connecting spiritual and physical wellness into a single activity can make a shift in scheduling less overwhelming. For me, it was that time in the morning. Five minutes to stretch, two to plank, and the next ten spent reading. It was all one motion, one action flowing easily into the next, a more serene breed of circuit training. For someone else, it might be a run without earbuds in, so that God’s voice can come in more clearly. Or maybe it’s a midday walk to a nearby church for a visit with the Blessed Sacrament. It could be spiritual music in the background while following a workout video on YouTube. Choosing produce from a farmer’s market—or straight from the farm—can be a spiritual experience in itself, a way to feel more connected with the world we live in. Live in Seasons Road races work for me as an incentive to make time to workout. Whether it’s a 5K or a full marathon, signing up for a race is a commitment to spend my time differently and to sacrifice other activities to give my all to my goal. A race is something in which my family, especially my husband, can support me, both in the training and at the finish line. The seasons of Lent and Advent function in an analogous way in the spiritual life. They are more intense training periods intended to break our lesser habits and set our eyes back on the prize. Not all of life needs to be so focused. Rest periods are important to growth, as well. Balance is key, and there’s no shame in asking for help. Whether it’s from a running coach or a spiritual director, guidance from someone with more knowledge and experience can help us see strengths and weaknesses we may not be able to see in ourselves. Don’t Go It Alone Though the spiritual journey is a personal one, it’s not one we are intended to walk (or run) alone. The accountability of a gym buddy can get you in the door, and a friendly sense of competition can have you both pushing yourselves a little further, working a little harder, because you know you’re not alone. Different stages of life, like different stages of training, are best served by different relationships. A prayer group, a virtual book club, letters or texts to check in with a friend you’re praying for, or whom you’ve asked to pray for you may fit for you right now. Let’s not forget the Saints, that great “cloud of witnesses” fist-pumping for us from on high, ready to intercede for us at any moment. The Blessed is She regional Facebook group one of my favorite prayer communities. Every time I “love” a post, it’s because I’ve said a Hail Mary for the petition. It’s a moment outside of myself that draws our Mother Church a little closer together. Give yourself permission to find the encouragement—and the challenge—that inspires you to be your best self. Remember Your “Why” Various situations in life have thrown me off course both physically and spiritually in the time since I started this healthier leg of my life journey. What keeps bringing me back to my habits is the feeling of wholeness and readiness that my morning routine, in particular, yielded. Life gets busy, and there can be too many day-to-day details to keep track of sometimes. I’ll eat whatever’s in the drawer, as long as it seems it will fill me up for a little while. I tell myself that chunk of dark chocolate in the afternoon, a TV show to fall into in the evening, or another midday social media check to see if I missed something is a reward—or consolation prize—for how I’m enduring the day. If I’m being honest, these aren’t rewards, but rather escapes from the challenges I face, from my fears of inadequacy or failure as a mom or writer. In a stressful moment, when, with God’s grace, I have forgone one of these indulgences, God consistently fills the space I’d thought was empty with His love. Why am I surprised by this, that when I make room for him on my plate, he completely fills the space, and then some? God wants more for me than physical health or beauty. He wants me to drink the living water, to feed on His body and blood, to care for my body—this blessed temple of the Holy Spirit—with what will really nourish me. These are whole foods, face-to-face conversations, good books, and the quiet stillness of prayer. In both realms, the difference was made not as much in what I chose to forgo as it was about what I chose to take in. How will you honor that today and take in the sustenance that will open the eyes and ears of your heart to the Lord? He is calling you to His table for the most important, life-giving meal you can imagine. [bctt tweet="He is calling you to His table for the most important, life-giving meal you can imagine. #BISblog"] Lindsay Schlegel is a daughter of God who seeks to encourage, inspire, and lift up the contemporary woman to be all she was created to be. She's the author of Don't Forget to Say Thank You: And Other Parenting Lessons That Brought Me Closer to God, as well as shorter nonfiction and fiction pieces, both online and in print. With joy, she speaks about recognizing God's voice and living the truth therein. Lindsay lives in New Jersey with her high-school-sweetheart-turned-husband and their kids. You can find out more about her here.

Welcome to the month dedicated to the Most Precious Blood, ladies. Let that pour over you, literally. Let the Most Precious Blood of Christ flow into your life and wash away your anxieties, your fears, your sins, and your distrusts. May you be left with only joy. Let's use that joy to celebrate the liturgical year more fully. There are so many wonderful celebrations this month; let's get to it! Saint Thomas the Apostle (July 3) You may know him better as Doubting Thomas. Although he is often known for his disbelief, Saint Thomas was one of Jesus' beloved. He is also the patron saint of architects. Seek out an area of your neighborhood with lovely buildings. Drive around and appreciate the gift that God gave the creators of these structures. Fourth of July Sure, this isn't on the liturgical calendar, but it's a day of festivity in the United States. Whether you are a citizen or not, ask Mother Mary to pray for the United States of America and for the freedom and dignity of all people throughout the world. Saint Maria Goretti (July 9) At the age of 12, Saint Maria Goretti died a martyr after a suitor pressured her to be impure, and upon her denial, he killed her. Take time to read an excerpt from Theology of the Body today. Reflect on the ways in which you are called to be pure in your own life. Whether you are married, single, religious, or otherwise, God has a beautiful plan for your body. Saints Louis and Zelie Martin (July 12) Ah, newly minted Saints. Saints Louis and Zelie are the parents of Saint Therese of Lisieux. Louis was a watchmaker, and Zelie created beautiful laces. Tap into your creative side today. Head to the craft store and become inspired. Choose a project that you've always wanted to try. In doing so, contemplate on how the process of creating brings you closer to the Creator. Saint Kateri Tekakwitha (July 14) Saint Kateri was a Native American Mohawk, and she is the patron saint of environmental issues. Taking care of our planet is so very important—so much so that Pope Francis wrote a letter on the topic entitled Laudato Si. Today would be a great day to read his thoughts. You can also take time to contact your representatives with any concerns about environmental legislation. Our Lady of Mount Carmel (July 16) Mother Mary is the patron of the Carmelite Order. Saint Teresa of Avila, Saint Therese of Lisieux, and Saint John of the Cross are all well-known Carmelites. This order was gifted the brown scapular from Blessed Mary, and those who venerate it are promised to be saved from the fires of Hell. You can be enrolled in the Confraternity of the Brown Scapular by any priest. Call yours today to set up a meeting. Saint Mary Magdalene (July 22) Traditionally, Saint Mary Magdalene is known as a sinner who found favor with Christ. She gives us great hope in Jesus' Divine Mercy. She also is a beacon for the importance of women in the Church. Pope Saint John Paul II reflects on the importance of women in his Letter to Women where he addresses "the essential issue of the dignity and rights of women, as seen in the light of the word of God." Read his letter today. Saint Christopher (July 25) Saint Christopher's life is actually known as a legend, but many people see him as the patron saint of travelers. Do you have a case of wanderlust? Where have you always wanted to visit? Plan that trip today! Or, if you're like most of us and money/work/family/school make it difficult to travel, plan a day trip for this summer. Go somewhere in your own neighborhood or state. Enjoy God's beauty in your backyard. Saints Anne and Joachim (July 26) Parents to Our Lady and grandparents to Our Lord. Pretty big titles for this humble pair. Do you still have grandparents in your life? How about an elderly neighbor? Take some time today for these images of God who are often marginalized in our society. Saint Ignatius of Loyola (July 31) Saint Ignatius was on a lifelong journey of learning. He founded the Jesuit Order, and they dedicated themselves to education. Another practice they employed was the Daily Examen. During your prayers tonight, pray a Daily Examen to help you take stock of your day. Consider making this a nightly habit. [bctt tweet="Liturgical Living in July for the Everyday Woman:"] What other ways to you plan to live liturgically this month? Please let us know in the comment section below. Written by Jenna Hines. Find out more about her here.

  People are always amazed by the idea that here in Costa Rica, there is an active volcano virtually in my backyard. We can sit on our porch with coffee and watch the plume of smoke from its crater grow wider and longer on days when it is erupting, with little worry of danger. But ever since we arrived here, I have been more mesmerized with the notion that in a nearby city, Cartago, Costa Rica, the seat of the diocese in which we serve as missionaries, stands a breathtaking Basilica, and inside that Basilica stands a tiny black statue surrounded by a grand golden monstrance. The statue is a Madonna and child, and it is an approved Marian apparition in the Church. On a regular basis, our family walks the aisle of this beautiful place, kneels before that image, and prays. We walk the path to the miraculous spring of healing waters that flows there and wash ourselves, praying for own intentions and those of others for whom we have promised to pray. Mary, the Mother of God, appeared in a place that is virtually our backyard, and we get to visit her regularly. That is so much more spectacular than any volcanic eruption! Our Lady of the Angels is the patroness of Costa Rica. She was so named in honor of their patron, Saint Francis' Basilica in Assisi, by the missionary Franciscan friars who pastored the area in the 1600s when the apparition occurred. This small, doll-like image in black stone was found by a young girl on a rock when she went out to the woods to collect firewood for the days’ cooking. She hid the doll in her room, only to find it missing the next morning. When she returned to the woods to complete her day’s chore once again, the figure was back where she had found it the day before. This cycle continued for three days, with Juanita hiding the figure more carefully each evening, and always finding it gone from her room and back on that same rock in the morning. Fearful of what this could mean, she brought the little figurine to her parish priest, who recognized it as an image of the Madonna and child and began to suspect something heavenly was at work. He placed the figure in the tabernacle and said Mass, praying for revelation. When the Mass was finished and the tabernacle opened, the figure had once again disappeared and was found on the rock in the woods. A church was built there and the apparition was eventually approved by the Church. To this day, Our Lady of the Angels, or the Negrita (Little Black One), is highly revered by the Costa Rican faithful. We have heard countless tales of miracles in the lives of friends and their families through her intercession, and witnessed a few of our own in the lives of friends we have brought to visit this holy site. On her feast day, August 2, each year, millions of people visit the Basilica to venerate this miraculous mother and intercessor. A traditional pilgrimage on foot is traversed by many people from every corner of the country to pay homage to this mother whom they honor as protectress and guide. In the years that we have lived in Costa Rica, we have witnessed many of its most spectacular sights, but the opportunity to pass regularly under the blessing of this beautiful apparition of our Mother Mary is beyond compare. As missionaries to the indigenous peoples here, we had the opportunity take a village of families on pilgrimage to the Shrine and introduce them to her for the first time. No ocean view, monkey sighting, scarlet macaw in flight, or even erupting volcano, can compare to the seeing the spark of recognition in the eyes of someone meeting his/her heavenly Mother for the first time. It is truly a holy spectacle I will never grow tired of marveling over. Written by Colleen Mitchell. Find out more about her here.

The lazy days of summer are finally upon us, bringing with them a chance to slow down and catch a good book. Whether you’re a bookworm, history buff, or you’re just looking for a good read to tote along on your next vacation, this list is for you! Here are ten faith-filled [or simply inspiring] books with a historical bent to keep you company. Some are fiction, some are memoirs or [auto]biographies that read like fiction—all are a fantastic way to feed your soul and literary appetite at the same time. 1. The Road to Jerusalem (Medieval Sweden, 1150) Opening with the birth of a boy named Arn, this is the first book of a trilogy set in the world of the Knights Templar and Crusades. The Road to Jerusalem follows Arn's boyhood as he leaves his family to be raised in a monastery, learning the skills of civilization and swordbearing before setting out on his own in the world. But he finds himself sorely unprepared for the secular world, coming of age in a drastically different setting that leads him on an unlikely path to knighthood. The book and series as a whole are an adventurous and intriguing look into family dynamics and monastic life, bringing some realism and fascination to the Medieval Era. Content: Somewhat clean. Cultural references to imbibing and clan warfare, allusions to adult content. 2. Silence (Japan, 1640s) Made popular by the recently released film by the same title (reviewed on the BiS blog here) this is not a novel for the faint of heart or weak of faith. Rather, it delves deep into the most distressing and beautiful moments of faith—sometimes one and the same. Based on true events, Silence is the story of a priest and his fellow missionaries seeking to shepherd a recently-discovered remnant of underground Christianity in hostile Japan. In the midst of strife and martyrdom, this incredibly written story explores the depth of persecution, doubt, and weakness—contrasted with the belief and hope, strength and sacrifice of a simple people tortured for their commitment to Christ. Content: Heavy in detailed graphic descriptions of violence and brutality toward the innocent. 3. The Invention of Wings (Civil War Era, 1860s) Though it hit the top of the charts a few years ago, this inspiring story is one worth telling and re-telling—especially for those who have missed or forgotten it. Based on true events and characters, this fictionalized account of an activist during the Civil War is arresting for all of the right reasons. Written by the same author who wrote Secret Life of Bees, it centers on the relationship of a slave and her owner-turned-abolitionist throughout their lives in the deep South. Sue Monk Kidd expertly weaves together the lives of two girls—once friends—both prisoners of their circumstance, and both unwilling to accept that their reality is acceptable. What was once a virtually unknown true story of feminine strength and dignity is now a truly hope-laden journey through the depth of human evils and the height of human good. Content: Mostly clean language. References to crimes against women, racism, descriptions of torture and brutality toward innocent people, brutality toward children. 4. Anne of Green Gables (Canada, early 1900s) There’s a lot of hype surrounding the new TV miniseries, but when’s the last time you hunkered down with any of the actual Anne books? If it’s been awhile—or never—I entreat you to pick up a copy and seriously lose yourself in the delights of the Victorian era with the heroine of the century. L.M. Montgomery builds characters that are deep, strong, and realistic yet endearing; our protagonist Anne is both painfully real while embodying all the best of feminine strength. For the best experience, stick with the series through Book 8 and give yourself the gift of journeying through all the charming changes of the era along with the maturing and ever more endearing Anne in all the heartrending, adventurous, beautiful seasons of her life. Content: Very clean. Isolated references of cruelty toward children and allusions to domestic violence. 5. Orphan Train (United States, early 1900s) An alternating perspective novel set in modern day America with flashbacks to the early 1900s, this tale centers on the moving relationship between two women unpacking their childhood ghosts. It's also a jarring narrative of the little-known enterprise that existed at the turn of the century, when orphans on the East Coast were shipped across the country by train to families willing to take them—just as Anne experienced in Anne of Green Gables though most were not as fortunate as she was. Orphan Train peels back the layers of history to reveal the plight of these children and the spirited ways in which they both adapted and attempted to rise above their condition. Content: some language, some adult content, references to or brief depictions of crimes against women and children. 6. In My Hands: Memories of a Holocaust Rescuer (World War II Era, Poland: 1938-1945) This is a haunting, beautiful, poetic, and riveting memoir; one I couldn't believe wasn’t fiction. Set in Poland during the Second World War, this is the incredible story of a young Catholic medical student-turned-prisoner-turned-renegade whose faith and experiences, one after another, lead her from fear and trembling to action and heroism, right under the noses of the Nazis. Though less graphic than other World War II novels I’ve read, this story shook me more deeply than most because of the knowledge—never far from mind—that every unbelievable experience was true, and had to be believed. Impeccably written, with unspeakably painful realities and poignant moments of redemption. Content: Clean language. References to crimes against women, depictions of antisemitism, descriptions of torture and brutality toward innocent people, some brutality toward children. 7. The Shadow of His Wings (World War II Era, Germany/Italy/Africa: 1938-1945) A reads-like-fiction account of a German seminarian drafted into the German Army during WWII, this memoir is jaw-dropping from start to finish. Written in his own words, Father Goldmann tells how his carefree, somewhat reckless childhood propelled him towards a vocation as a priest. Once drafted into the army and eventually forced to serve in the SS under Hitler, Father Goldmann's unwavering faith continued, lit by a burning desire to serve God in whatever circumstance he found himself. Through persecution from his own compatriots, daring missions, imprisonment, and possibly the most unlikely path to ordination ever, this priest both survived and led countless souls to Christ. I truly couldn’t put this one down. Content: Clean language. Occasional descriptions of brutality and war scenes, minimally graphic. 8. Lilac Girls (World War II Era, France/Germany: 1938-1945) If you’ve read and liked other WWII novels like The Book Thief, All the Light We Cannot See, and The Nightingale, I highly recommend this read! This novel follows three women whose lives are inextricably woven together by the brutal realities of war. A fictionalized account based on real people and eye-opening true events, it’s another little-known story of the darkest aspects of the Holocaust set against the incredible human spirit that prevails. Like other all-but-forgotten testimonies, it’s simply a story that begs to be shared. Content: Occasional mild language; some casual treatment of fidelity in marriage; torture and crimes against women, depictions of antisemitism, not overly graphic. 9. A Man for Others: Maximilian Kolbe the "Saint of Auschwitz" (World War II Era, Poland: 1938-1945) Possibly the most well-known story of the Holocaust in Catholic circles, this biography is cited by some as the best account of Saint Maximilian Kolbe’s life and ultimate martyrdom at Auschwitz. Although a more factual read and the least novel-esque on our list, this captivating biography weaves in true accounts from those who knew the saint personally. Many know of Saint Maximilian Kolbe’s sacrifice and death, but know far less about his incredible, far-reaching accomplishments that spanned his life prior to his martyrdom in the concentration camp. This book captures the fullness of the man behind the saint, and the scope of his lifelong work that is just as compelling as his saintly death. Content: clean language, accounts of torture and death. Not graphic. 10. He Leadeth Me (Cold War Era, the Soviet: 1947-1960s) This is the memoir of an American missionary priest who was serving in eastern Poland when World War II broke out. Captured by the Red Army and accused of being a “Vatican Spy,” Father Ciszek survived for 23 years in the worst conditions of Cold War imprisonment that Russia had to offer. This little-known story is a stirring, outstanding read. But even moreso, it's a simple yet phenomenal spiritual companion if you’re journeying through your own difficult season of suffering. Content: Clean language. Occasional descriptions of brutality and war scenes. Tell us, have you read any inspirational fiction or memoirs lately? Written by Megan Hjelmstad. Find out more about her here.

Pilgrimage The musty smell of the ancient cathedral wafted out the door mixed with a layer of incense that had begun to burn for Mass as the aching feet of we, persevering pilgrims, passed the threshold. Our group was one of the last inside the massive door. We settled our weary bodies on the cold, stone floor. We slow-blinked our way through Mass, desiring to give thanks to God for the gifts given on the way, but fighting against our somatic need to simply rest. So many miles crossed, from one gorgeous Gothic cathedral dedicated to Our Lady to another. In actuality, only a short physical journey exemplifying the longer spiritual one we all travel on throughout the course of our lives. A Prayerful Journey Every year on the feast of Pentecost, a pilgrimage takes place in France that has been occurring off and on since the Middle Ages called the Pèlerinage de Chartres. Pilgrims walk from Notre Dame in Paris to Notre Dame in Chartres. The one that took place this year, in 2017, is the 35th since the modern day renewal by Notre Dame de Chrétienté (Our Lady of Christendom) of this longstanding practice. The pilgrims cover a distance of about 60 miles over the course of 3 days. It is intensive and arduous. The pilgrims walk the path split into “chapters.” As most are residents of France, the majority of the groups are divided by parishes or other prior established groups. Pilgrims that come from outside the country are part of the “etrangers” (foreigners) group. The “chapters” are a wonderful blessing along the way as fellow pilgrims pray, sing, and bolster one another as they walk together. Pilgrims meet at dawn the first day of the pilgrimage, as the sun rises up behind the majestic cathedral. Prayers are said within for a safe and blessed walk. Then, the pilgrims embark on the first half of the day which finds them winding through the busy streets of Paris. As the commotion of the city falls away, repasts are taken at midday in the fields on the outskirts of the city and Mass is offered for all. The end of the day requires the most determination as the pilgrims drag their tired bodies into camp and set up tents for a night of rest. The second day arrives with a renewed conviction of making it to the end. Wandering across fields and through small towns in a spirit of prayerful vigilance, the pilgrims offer their sufferings for the intentions they carry in their hearts and those asked by loved ones back at home. The days can be heavy with scorching heat or the drenching rainfall of a warm summer rain. It is all part of the pilgrim’s adventure, and there is ample supply of opportunity for offering up in your days. The second evening’s sunset reveals the silhouette of Chartres cathedral on the horizon. It is a welcome sight that buoys your resolve to make those final miles the next morning. Tomorrow will find you inside. The songs that carry the pilgrims on the third and final day are always like those of soldiers advancing into battle. The marching tunes aid in making an even, continuous stride as the pilgrims ascend upon the magnificent, towering cathedral. The path winds up, up, up, every step an inch closer to the journey’s culmination. Many times, you feel as if you cannot make it, but here you are having achieved what seemed impossible, for with God, all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26) The triumphant notes of the grand organ come spilling out the doors as the last steps are taken up to the doors. Banners are carried high as each chapter’s representative crosses the threshold marking their achievement. These represent all that we have offered in our millions of steps across the miles, our hearts full of thanksgiving for a pilgrimage finished. It has been a time for reflection, for penance, and for fellowship. A time to converse with God about all the things on your heart. A time for remembering and asking pardon for your sins. A time to work together as the Body of Christ, carrying each other when times are tough and rejoicing in each others’ accomplishments. My Personal Journey I have participated in the Chartres pilgrimage twice, in 2003 and 2007. Both times have proved a tremendous, long term blessing on my life. In addition to many other intentions, I carried on my heart the desire to know and carry out well the vocation God was calling me to. The minutiae of my vocation continues to be discerned but I know that the seeds of the journey to marriage began to form on that dusty path. For the duration of the pilgrimages, we were encouraged to take upon us the patronage of certain saints as examples and help to us along the way. Our heavenly friends that first pilgrimage in 2003 were Saints John the Baptist, Margaret Mary, and the martyrs of Compiegne, and, in a special way, Saint Joan of Arc. I felt very close to them during that time, and continue to rely upon their intercession. My eldest daughter, who is only four years old, surprised me recently as she has, inadvertently, too “chosen” Saint Joan. This is a sure sign to me of my dear friend’s continual influence in my life. On my second pilgrimage, in 2007, my pilgrimage took an unexpected turn. I became very sick on the second day with a recurring illness that can incapacitate me. It knocked me flat and there was no way I could walk on my own two feet those many miles still left to cover. I managed to find a ride with a man shuttling supplies between rest stops. He took myself and an elderly woman who couldn’t make the journey by foot either that afternoon to the town of Chartres. I found a hotel room and slept straight through until late the next morning, sloughing off the worst of the illness. In the early afternoon, I made my way about a half mile to the cathedral to witness the pilgrims triumphantly coming up the hill to enter the cathedral. I had the temptation to feel defeated, as if I had failed the quest. But, as often happens in life, the journey can undergo detours and not end as you had envisioned it would when you began. It was great reminder that God is in control, not me. I hope someday to make the journey of this Pentecostal pilgrimage with my family. (There are also chapters offered for families and young children with abbreviated miles interrupted by bus rides to aid shorter legs.) It is a blessing I wish to share with them. The Journey of a Lifetime A pilgrimage is an abbreviated representation of that lifelong journey we are all on as we make our way to our heavenly home. It gives us an opportunity to take some time out of the busyness of our daily lives and reflect on what we should be truly striving for in this life. In many ways, it is like a retreat, but with the added penitential aspect of traversing many miles over a short time span and an emphasis placed on the communal aspect of the Christian life. It reminds us of our duty as Christians to live a life in Christ, to find our hope and strength in Him. Chartres Cathedral’s site states it well: The pilgrimage of Christendom is Marian and missionary. It seeks to bring together all those who are motivated by the desire to promote the reign of Christ. It is in this spirit that each pilgrim is invited: during the pilgrimage, to deepen, discover or rediscover all the dimensions of the Catholic Faith and its necessary incarnation in the midst of men. It promotes the vision of a Church where all the faithful strive to make effective Christian values in their lives and at the level of society. (translated from the French) The spirit of a pilgrimage should not end with the final steps crossing the threshold, but should spark a fire that enlivens our every day life with the joy of Christ as we return home. It should be a catalyst for diving deeper into our relationship with Christ. It should be a renewal of our commitment to serving others in His love. It should change our hearts as it does our feet with the callouses formed through the effort. Written by Laurel Muff. Find out more about her here.

One of my favorite things about summer is the gatherings with family and friends. I love having the people I care about the most sitting around a table laughing, talking, and enjoying good food. In the spirit of joyful gatherings, I’ve put together a planning guide for a summer Spanish dinner in honor of Saint Josemaría Escrivá’s feast day. Who is Saint Josemaría Escrivá? He is a Spanish Saint that wrote The Way and founded Opus Dei. You can read more about his life. There is A LOT to this saint so if you’re curious, definitely read up on him when you get the chance. For Saint Josemaría Escrivá, much of his time on this earth was spent encouraging people to wholly and fully live out their faith in everything they do, in every stage of life. From that, I gathered inspiration for this dinner party. As you plan and put this dinner together, keep your heart turned to the Lord. Pour love and care into every detail. This dinner should be an opportunity for you to grow in your faith in perhaps a way you never have before. Take this time to grow in Christian hospitality and building up the Kingdom of God with those around you. [bctt tweet="A Josemaría Escrivá-Inspired Dinner Party:"] Aside from great company, here are some things to help you plan your summer Spanish Dinner Party. Fun Glasses If you’re like me, you can definitely hit up some thrift stores and find some really gorgeous vintage glasses. Or you can visit places like Home Goods or Marshalls. Flowers For this dinner party I went with a bright red, yellow (for Spain!), and a sprinkle of purple. I used an assortment of vases but you could also use mason jars and allow your guests to take one home with them when the night is over. Decorations that double as party favors? Excellent. Candles Honestly any candles will do but I do suggest having lots in order to create the dreamy summer glow in the evening. Food We’re going traditional with Spanish dishes like paella, gazpacho, or albondigas! Now, I have a Spanish cookbook from when I was in Spain for World Youth day but you can search Pinterest for some great Spanish recipes as well as spreads for before the big meal! These often include olives, tapas, and prosciutto. Drink Since it’s summer, it would be tough to go wrong with lemonade and iced tea. But don’t forget to also make a pitcher of sangria for your guests, you can find some great recipes . I also found three delicious Spanish wines for under $10! There’s a little something for everyone! I found some quotes (The Way is a great resource for that!) from Saint Josemaría Escrivá for writing on a small chalkboard for the table or making small cards to put on each person’s plate. This party planning guide is simply suggestions, of course. You can put all kinds of personal touches on your get together in honor of this Saint. “Great holiness consists in carrying out the little duties of each moment.” "If God gives you the burden, God will give you the strength." "He came precisely to suffer death from us and for us, where can we hide from his mercy?" "Lord I trust in you: your ordinary providence, your help each day is all I need." -Saint Josemaría Escrivá Written by Susana Starbuck. Find out more about her here.

For the first time in all my 19 years of life, I left the United States and entered—body and soul—into a new country. I physically stepped through the San Ysidro Port of Entry into Mexico with all of my belongings on my back. It was just me, my journal, a change of clothes, and a ready heart. I was beginning a pilgrimage, an entering into the unfamiliar, an unfamiliar I so desperately wanted to know and understand. And after crossing back to the U.S. two days later, I feel like I do know and understand just a little better. Over the course of the weekend, our group (from my school) talked to U.S. Border Patrol agents, viewed the border from the U.S. side, crossed the border, spoke to an organization in Tijuana that fights human trafficking, viewed the border from the Tijuana side, stayed at a migrant shelter with deportees, and worshipped at a Nazarene church in Tijuana alongside our TJ friends. As we walked through Tijuana, I was initially overwhelmed with color. I was almost drowning in bright paints and bright blankets and bright signs and bright people. A cacophony of music of every kind was blasting through staticky speakers and car radios. But, I did recognize a sense of outward brokenness. I saw blatantly advertised sex tourism and children running around with styrofoam cups looking for loose change. At one point, a little boy looked up at me with a cup in his hand, with his deep brown eyes and toothless smile, and in that moment, I realized my shelteredness, my ignorance and confusion of this kind of life. A heartbrokenness rose up inside of me for these people, these people so like me and unlike me at the same time. I realized how separated I am from them—the physical barriers, the language barriers, the barriers of our own separate lives we live. And I recognized a small stirring inside my heart to begin to understand it all. To enter into this reality, to witness it, and live it. The migrant shelter we stayed at in TJ was called Casa Del Migrante. Casa Del Migrante is a special, sacred place. It's a Catholic-run migrant shelter that houses around 200 male deportees at any given time. There were migrants from all over: lots of Haitian migrants trying to get Mexican citizenship and undocumented migrants from the U.S. who were recently deported to Mexico and have no place to go because their lives—their families and homes—are in the U.S. Casa Del Migrante provides meals and a place for them to sleep while helping them find jobs, etc. During dinner at the Casa, I sat across from a man named Gabriel. He spoke perfect English, so I was able to engage and hear his story. He was so full of suffering, but so full of hope. Gabriel moved with his parents from Mexico City to L.A. when he was four years old. He's lived in the U.S. for more than 30 years—for most of his life. He's been married 21 years and has three sons, the oldest of which is 19 like me. When I asked him his kid's names, he teared up, and tiny wet droplets slipped down his cheeks into his thin mustache. His eyes were deep and sad. He smiled through his tears with his crooked teeth when he talked about his wife and sons. He was deported a few weeks ago and suffered immense depression to the point of being suicidal. He remembers standing on top of a building, wanting so badly to jump, feeling so defeated and empty, but something kept him from doing it. He showed us scars on his cheeks and wrist where he had cut himself when he was in that place of dark loss. He doesn't know when he'll see his family again, but he said God brought him out of his depression and gave him renewed motivation and faith that he will see them again soon. I listened to his pain, and I listened to and felt his contagious sense of hope. He has a crazy hope that keeps him alive, that got him a job so can work to see his family again, that gave him faith in God, that brought him to this migrant shelter. "Never give up," said Gabriel. "Surround yourself with positive people. Keep going. No matter what, you gotta keep going. I know God is always with me." Casa del Migrante, he said, has saved a lot of lives. As I ate a delicious dish of roasted potato, chicken, Mexican rice, refried beans, and fresh vegetable salad made by loving hands alongside these incredible men, I felt the eyes of my heart open wide. Later that night, in the guest quarters of the migrant shelter where we stayed, our group sang the worship song "Open the Eyes of My Heart" in Spanish (Abre Mis Ojos oh Cristo) and everything I had felt and seen that day culminated into a complete outpouring of myself in worship. Jesus so tangibly showed Himself to me that day. I saw Jesus more fully than ever before in the brokenness and poverty of Tijuana. He stirred in me and showed his love for me through his love for the brokenhearted. Waking up in a migrant shelter reminds me that I, too, am a migrant. A migrant within my own country, but a migrant nonetheless. I am humbled to wake up in one of the most holy places I've ever been in. It is full of broken souls, and that's what makes it so real and so beautiful. I've seen hurt here. I have seen extreme poverty and brokenness and pain, and still intense color and humanity. My heart is ripped wide open and painted brightly like the TJ border fence against the pale blue sky. There is so much more to every side of the story like I learned this weekend. It touched me to see families talk through the fence—so close, able to touch the tips of their fingers—but so, so far away. It touched me to hear border patrol agents talk about risking their lives and seeing tragedies every day. This is a complex issue. But we must learn to handle complexity and not get crushed by it. We must learn to lament and mourn, we must develop the heart to look into the causes of suffering. We must refuse to be consoled until injustice is wiped out. Stop and listen to the suffering and dwell in it. Don't let it paralyze you—reflect until you know what to do with that which you've experienced. Nietzsche, from what I read of him in my philosophy class, believed that "to be human is to suffer." And that is true for my experience, too. By entering straight into that suffering, that reality—and not shying away from it, ignoring it, or fabricating a false reality to comfort ourselves from it, we begin the difficult task of making small changes. We are able to exercise our prophetic imaginations, of serving Christ above literally everything else. Even above our sense of identity or loyalty to a certain place. This is real and this is tough. I experienced a sense of suffering and pain in others that I never truly knew until now, but I realize that to be human is truly to know suffering. To know suffering and not run from it, to love others in it, and be okay with just being in it. [bctt tweet="I realize that to be human is truly to know suffering."] On this lovely Palm Sunday, as I watch a woman in a blue apron outside tie palms together with twine on a small plastic table, I can only think: Jesus truly is near to the brokenhearted. He is here and He is real and He is alive. How great and big is God that He is not separated by language like we are. How great and big is He that he extends Himself beyond borders we have made for ourselves. How great is our God. How real is suffering and how valid are our individual sufferings. But how great is He. And that is reason enough to rejoice. Written by Cassidy K. Find out more about her here. This post was first published on her blog, Snowflakes and Roses. Reprinted with permission.

We never know why God has called us to do something, but when we feel His call, it is our duty as faithful servants to respond with a loving and resounding YES! If you are feeling God's call, then open your heart and read on . . . 1. Do your homework. Find out what ministries are currently at your parish and find out what they do. It’s a terrible feeling to go to your priest with an idea only to be told, "um . . . we have that already” or to begin the work with permission and later discover you are stepping on the toes of existing ministry workers. 2. Create a mission statement and an outline for your ministry. Know whom you will serve and in what capacity. What is your purpose and how does it differ from the purposes of other ministries currently serving your parish? How does your purpose align with the purpose of the wider Church? Is your ministry’s purpose primarily evangelism? or Catechesis? Service? Community building? Knowing the answer to these questions will help you communicate effectively about your ministry and help you to garner support from others. 3. You must have your priest's support. You need more than his permission. You need to get him jazzed about the ministry. You really need to have him on your team. Starting anything new is challenging, and you may meet opposition (and more differing opinions than there are people involved). If you know you have the support of your priest, you will have more confidence and the ability to put others’ negativity aside and proceed. A bulletin announcement is great, but to have your priest speak from the pulpit about how essential your ministry is, or to have him attend an event and tell others about it, well, that is the best publicity you can have. 4. Start to network. Once you see the need for a ministry, have confirmed that it is not the mission of another ministry, and have the priest's support, then you can start reaching out to other ministries to network. As you start to recruit help, remember that volunteers can be hard to find. Those who have been working in ministries have often been doing loads of work and many are already bordering on burnout. Be supportive of what other ministries are doing and emphasize your desire to bring more uninvolved people into ministry life. Ask God to provide you with the people and the guidance you need, then invite people face-to-face to do specific things. 5. Make friends with the office staff. When I started my first ministry, one of my best friends happened to be on staff and in charge of scheduling. She conveniently came on as Parish Liaison for our ministry. She was already part of the staff at the parish so she had the ear of the priest, she knew what was going on politically, and she was able to easily process the paperwork (announcements, reimbursements, deposits, PO's etc.) for our group. We have retained a deep and lasting friendship through our early ministry work with one another and my job was made so much easier by having her as a part of our core team. 6. Create a marketing plan. You already have your mission statement and an outline of your ministry. Now you need to market it. How do you make it something others will remember and want to be a part of? Our Moms Ministry created little business cards, pew cards, and even hilarious videos to play after Mass. We sold donuts and muffins to bring attention to our ministry. We made & sold chic-looking t-shirts by a local t-shirt company. Even our big Mother-Daughter Tea was a chance to sign-up more moms to our group. 7. Create a business plan. How are you going to run this group? My mission was to never take money from our parish, but rather be able to give back to the parish. In order to do that, I needed to have fundraisers and a budget to cover the costs of refreshments and speakers. We started with some easy things like bake sales to both raise awareness and give us some seed money. If you have the intention to grow beyond your parish someday, that should be a part of your plan, too. 8. Pray, pray, pray. This really should be number one, but if you are reading this you probably have already been in conversation with Our Lord about the topic! So keep praying. You should be praying more than planning. Go to Adoration with a notebook and just listen to what He speaks to your heart. 9. Don't be easily offended. Critiques of the ministry are not critiques of you. Being the head of a ministry does not mean that every misstep is a reflection on your character. You are going to forget deadlines and lose receipts, misinterpret words and step on toes. Don't take things personally. Act out of love, practice humility, and don’t take offense easily. 10. Know when to let go. Ministries need to be bigger than one person. The Sodality of Our Lady has been running in our parish since 1949. They have a new prefect each year or every few years. They have guilds and prayer teams and a budget. Once you have helped create the ministry, bring in others to give it some longevity. It is God's ministry, not yours, and it will last as long as the parish responds to His call to keep it going. That said, even if it lasts for just a season, it was important for that season. Know when to turn it over to fresh ideas and a new face. There will be a lot of questions and a lot of discernment in this process. You need to tap into God's actual intentions for the specific work He has designed you to complete for Him. That is a pretty amazing thing! So pray, plan, and get working. [bctt tweet="10 Tips for starting a parish ministry --->>>"] Feel called to do something, but find the idea of a parish ministry sounds overwhelming? Why don’t you try starting with a small group study? Blessed is She has a free small group study waiting for you. If you have specific questions or need mentoring through this process, we are here for you. Written by MaryRuth Hackett. Find out more about her here. This post first published at her blog, Parenting with Peer Review. Reprinted with permission.

While I was hurrying through a large airport trying to catch what I imagined to be the last flight out, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper to me: “Everything will be okay.” No sooner had I noted the peace in my heart when I heard someone call out to me from a few steps behind, “Sister, are you in a hurry? What time are you boarding?” I turned around and met the eyes of a woman who was radiant but weary. I walked toward the woman trying to give her my full attention and as much calm and kindness as I could muster. Since Spanish seemed to be her native language, I invited her to speak in the language that was most familiar to her. In bits and pieces, her story spilled out, and before I knew it she was scribbling her husband’s name onto a piece of paper and placing it into my hand as she continued pleading for prayer. I marveled at her faith and love for Our Lord and Our Lady. She told me how she was educated by Salesian Sisters in her country, how she and her husband lived their Crusillo retreat, how they love Our Lady of Fatima and believe she will help them. I thought about how her story echoes so many who flee their countries with next to nothing and who only ask for work and a future. I felt the Holy Spirit help me to receive her story as a gift to be presented to the Lord in prayer. I still marvel at her humility and faith which compelled her to call out to an unknown Sister, and I still pray for her family. I left her with my community’s phone number, my email, and the assurance that I would be interceding for her. With that I dashed off to my gate where I noticed my group was yet to be called, and I thanked the Holy Spirit for keeping His promise. Almost immediately after this, a woman who helps people by providing wheelchair assistance settled into a seat near me. She was much like the other woman. She was beautiful but weary. I started the conversation with her by asking her when her shift is over. She smiled saying she would be done in less than forty-five minutes. We rejoiced together at the gift of the end of one more day of work. As we continued making small talk, I felt the Spirit ask me to share the rest of my sandwich with her. I had half of a sandwich that was still delicious, but it was destined to become soggy that night in our refrigerator. She looked hungry, but only accepted it after I explained the fate of this great sandwich. As she devoured her little meal, she explained how she hadn’t received enough tips to purchase lunch that day. Our conversation became warm and full of gratitude for all of God’s blessings. She told me she has been working in the country for six years and talked about her three grown children. She worked in Italy for twenty years prior to coming here. She roared with delight as I said a few phrases in Italian while gathering my bag at the last boarding call. I cannot count how many times people like these two women tell me in one way or another that they are convinced that God will stay far from them because they feel unworthy. But this is just the opposite of what God intends! And the Solemnity of Pentecost proves just this. God’s ways are so far beyond us, but perhaps it’s better said that God’s ways are so humbling that they baffle us. God loves us so relentlessly that we have trouble recognizing His manner of acting. He pursues us. God lowers Himself. Our Blessed Mother rejoices as she contemplates the Lord’s ways in her Magnificat, “He scatters the proud hearted but lifts up the lowly.” I love to remind myself that not only does Jesus become a little baby in a poor family, become a controversial preacher, die on the Cross, and rise again, but He also sends the Holy Spirit to be our advocate, our guide. Therefore, we can rejoice with Saint Paul who says, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” What do we celebrate when we contemplate Pentecost? Why and how does the Holy Spirit come upon the disciples gathered in the upper room? We celebrate what tradition understands the Church’s first novena. Our Blessed Mother led the disciples in prayer for nine days. And God responds to their prayers by sending the Holy Spirit. This is why the whole spiritual life grows as a response to our greater and greater confidence in God’s unfailing mercy. Jesus says the Holy Spirit will “teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you." (Jn 14: 26) How are we to respond? We are called to respond like Our Lady and with Our Lady. We are called to treasure in our hearts all the things the Lord teaches us and reminds us. I often wish I could be one of those people who look calm no matter what is happening because I do not want people to feel like they are unimportant or that I am rushing them. This was my little prayer to God as I was rushing through the airport desperate not to sleep in a terminal that night. The Holy Spirit taught me how to trust His voice, and He showed me how God delighted in the faith of a woman who was pleading for prayers. He reminded me of God’s goodness and taught me how to laugh with the woman who was hungry and tired after a long day of pushing wheelchairs in a huge airport. He reminded me of my call to testify to the truth that God’s love has changed everything for me. He encouraged me to make space for God to continue to transform my heart. He is the reason I am wearing a blue piece of cloth on my head running through an airport at ten o’clock at night, and He is in control. As I boarded the plane, I realized it was rather empty and chuckled at how wound up I can get over little things. I pray to be reminded of the beauty of offering these inconveniences up, and to be better at asking the Lord to reveal His desire when I am in inconvenient situations. The Holy Spirit only needed a little prayer that night to help me slow down and share a bit of this wild journey of life with two amazingly beautiful women. I am so grateful the Lord draws near to us, and I pray to learn to move according to His good pleasure more and more. Written by Sister Maria Kim Bui. Find out more about her here.

If you've ever struggled with depression, you would know that the feeling of indifference often clouds your perception of life. Whether it's towards daily activities, relationships, or even prayer, indifference latches onto every aspect of your life. And this indifference is something that has made my heart feel lifeless. I've been struggling with depression for about four months, and I've noticed sins that weigh me down trigger it. The ones that I think, "I'm never going to confess this again," as I'm coming out of the confessional, only to be back two weeks later with an identical list of sins from my last visit. This cycle has let the enemy into my conscience telling me that I'm disappointing, that I can't get better, that I will continue this cycle over and over again until one day I decide to give up. And that's sort of what I did four months ago. After my clean slate was stained again from sin, I decided that I wasn't going to change, at least not right away, so why should I keep trying so hard to feel worthy of God's grace? With my stubborn mind made up, I stopped going to Mass. I stopped praying. I believed the lie that I wasn't worthy of God's forgiveness. When I let that belief into my heart, depression took over and soon after indifference clouded my eyes towards everything. I felt alone, lifeless, and unworthy of help. Eventually I couldn't handle the heaviness of what I was struggling with so I decided to confide in one of my best friends. Crying on his back porch, not even able to look at him, he told me that he was struggling too. And I realized that the more I confided in my friends and was honest with what I was feeling, the more I realized that we were all going through something similar. There was some sort of drought in each of us, and yet none of us asked the other for water. When I came to this realization, there was a whisper in my heart to go to Mass. My heart was anxious and unsure, because I had been living with months of drunkenness, lust, and shame under my belt. I reached to all of these things because at least with them, I felt something. Even if it was temporary. But the alcohol would wear off, the attention from boys would go away, and all I was left with was the feeling that I was wasting my dignity, squandering my inheritance. So I can understand why I didn't want to go to Mass. I looked at all the chaos I caused and the stains I created and felt that God could never clean it all up. But I also knew that I couldn't live with indifference and shame any longer. I needed to care, I needed to come back to life, and I needed forgiveness. [bctt tweet="Forgiveness is the resolution of my story, dear sister. Forgiving myself in particular."] Forgiveness is the resolution of my story, dear sister. Forgiving myself in particular. God's mercy is constantly flowing. His heart is so full of love for us and forgiveness comes so easily to Him. But forgiveness from myself to myself? That doesn't come as easily. Learning to forgive myself has been the most difficult thing lesson on my spiritual walk. Self-forgiveness comes with a journey of loving myself, and I knew I couldn't have love if all I felt was indifference. Every day I battle the lifeless feeling of indifference, but every day I've learned to lean into Christ. And it always looks different. Sometimes He shows Himself through a loving friend, an incredible sunset, or a small victory of saying no to the temptations that appeal to me. His love protects me, but only because every day, I let it. Every day, He chisels away at my heart of stone. I still struggle, but I know there is a victory at the end of this journey, and my heart will be all the better for it. [bctt tweet="I know there is a victory at the end of this journey, and my heart will be all the better for it."] Written by Jillian Wagner.

Sometimes life doesn’t always go the way we plan. Sometimes our dreams and ideals do not turn out the way we hoped. I never would have imagined at 31 years old, I would be divorced and finished with the annulment process. Going through a divorce has taught me about myths sometimes held in relation to divorce. It has expanded my heart with greater mercy and grace to other people I encounter on the journey of life. While some Catholics can experience divorce as “the scarlet D” writes Rose Sweet, the heartbreak of divorce on people is something our God passionately cares about. Yes, God hates divorce, but He does not hate divorced people. Annulment is not a “Catholic divorce.” While Annulments are specific only to Catholic Christians, I think they can often get a bad rap and be confusing for people to understand. A divorce is a civil judicial act that legally ends a marriage. An annulment is an ecclesiastical determination where what was believed to be a valid sacramental, Catholic marriage is declared to never have been a marriage in the first place. So what does that translate to? That means the day a couple got married, it looked like a sacramental marriage took place. It appeared that both parties had the proper intent and will to live out these vows in a life-long covenant. However, after a thorough investigation, there can be found reasons and circumstances that can prove that a marriage never really happened at all (making it null). Annulments are not the Catholic version of divorce. It means for a variety of reasons, it was never a sacrament to begin with even though it appeared to be. It also does not mean children that came about through that union as deemed illegitimate. I was going through the annulment process during the Year of Mercy. Can we say ironic?! Let’s just say I had a lot more to learn about mercy and forgiveness that I ever imagined. I found the annulment process to be healing, very freeing, and critical as I moved forward with my life in peace and wholeness. Being divorced doesn’t mean I gave up on my vows. Seven months after I got married, the walls caved in around me. I discovered my husband was a sex addict and unable to be honest. I was both verbally and sexually abused. But giving up was not an option, and we wanted to do whatever it took to lay a new, healthy foundation. We plunged into recovery: individual and couples counseling, weekly therapy groups, a weekly couple’s recovery group, and intensives. In the end, we spent close to $25,000. We tried every single possible avenue to heal and try to save the marriage. Being a divorced Catholic woman doesn’t mean I gave up on my vows. Rather, after much prayer and discernment I saw there was nothing left to do. I was merely surviving and not thriving. I could no longer continue to live in that environment for a variety of reasons. Sometimes after trying the most desperate measures, there are real possibilities that a relationship cannot be saved. Divorce does not mean you failed or gave up. It means you are human. And humans are imperfect, but God always uses our pain and imperfections to make something better than we could have imagined. Our brokenness and wounds don’t push God away, but rather they draw us to His Sacred Heart. Divorce doesn’t mean you will never have a successful marriage. It takes two people to make a marriage work, and it takes two people for a marriage to fall apart. While my former spouse had some significant issues, I’ve had to face the reality I dragged in plenty of unhealthiness and my own set of issues into the marriage as well. I was a raging co-dependent, emotionally insecure and needy, manipulative, and controlling. My brokenness contributed equally to a marriage that didn’t last. Going through a divorce doesn’t mean I (or anyone) cannot someday have a healthy, life-giving marriage. I have a learned a lot of lessons: about myself, love, honesty, addiction, and relationships. I want to learn these lessons now so I will not repeat the same actions and behaviors in a future relationship. Even if a first marriage failed, that doesn't mean I (or you) are a failure. The only way to be a failure is to live out of a victim mindset. With hard work, counseling, and prayer, it is possible to walk forward into the future with hope and renewed strength. Facing your own pain, issues, and brokenness now will not only change you but be a game changer for future relationships. We all will have a different story and travel a different path in this life. This is just a chapter in my story. It will not define me, but I am choosing to let it refine me. If you are divorced or know someone who is, please know you are not alone. The Catholic Church wants to be a supportive, loving place for you to land. We all will face and go through pain throughout life. And if divorce is that pain for you or someone in your life, please know you are not meant to face it all alone. If you are divorced or know of someone in your life that is, there are so many wonderful resources available to help in healing and moving forward. Consider reading good books like Healing the Heartbreak of Divorce, Divorced. Catholic. Now What?, and The Catholic Guide to Dating After Divorce. Consider finding a local church that offers a Divorce Care support group. If you need a fellow sister in the Lord to talk with, please comment and we will get in touch. I would be happy to offer any encouragement or support that I can. You don’t need to walk this path alone, and you are certainly not the only one facing this pain. God can use this painful reality if you let Him. You can find hope, healing, and joy again. You may have regrets about your marriage, but you do not want to have regrets about how you chose to respond and heal from your divorce. God uses all things. [bctt tweet="God uses all things. // @amoderngrace"] And yes, He can even use a divorce for a greater purpose you may not see right now. Written by Patty Breen. Find out more about her here.

For me, vacation is a highly coveted week at our house. We plan for it all year, map out where we plan on going, save and dream about our week together. While we love to see people on our vacations, we’ve also learned we’re not the kind of people that can vacation with others. Scott and I are first-borns. Our way or the highway kind of folks. We don’t like to negotiate about “when” to be “where.” Don’t get me wrong, we love hanging with friends and family, we just like control over the schedule. I think it’s because we spend the majority of our year abiding by the work calendar, the school calendar, the sports calendar, the 4-H calendar and the life calendar. When we go on vacation we’re on OUR calendar. And it is lovely. After 16 years of traveling around the globe, we’ve also come to appreciate our faith and how it shapes who we are. That doesn’t change when we leave our house. Below are a few things we do when it comes to integrating our faith into our vacations.   1. You won’t catch me standing on the street corner preaching to folks, but we don’t hide our beliefs, either. Whenever we eat a meal (3x a day around these parts), we bless our food. It doesn’t matter if we’re at a friend’s house or in the middle of Jackson Square at Cafe Du Monde, we take a minute to say a prayer and make the sign of the cross. It’s become so common that I forget if people stare anymore! On occasion, we’ve had a stranger compliment us on saying grace, but that isn’t why we do it. It’s our tradition at home and that doesn’t change when we’re not here. 2. We attend Mass. With the evolution of technology, you no longer have to scour the phone book or call a parish ahead of time. Just long on to MassTimes.org and you can find the Mass time for any parish in the world. We have seen some amazing parishes. The wood work and soaring beams in Rapid, South Dakota were stunning. The old stone church in Memphis was quiet and contemplative, the rustic Texan church in San Antonio had a character of a priest and the ancient basilica in Rome nearly stopped my heart with its beauty. I promise you won’t regret going. It’s kinda like working out, at the end you never regret the choice to say “yes.” 3. Look for opportunities to learn about Catholic church history. While we were in New Orleans, we made time to pray at St. Louis Cathedral. Ok, we did “some” praying, the rest I spent running after Luke. But, I don’t want to spoil that fun story. It’s a humdinger. We’ve toured the missions in San Antonio, learned about various cities patron saints and met some awesome people doing it. Usually, the teachable moment is along the way. 4. Pray for safe travels. Before we left, Scott offered up a prayer for safe travels and I did the same when we departed. On our way home, as we journeyed through Mobile, Alabama, we encountered a fatal wreck. One never knows the path that lies ahead, take time to pray for your travels and those around you. 5. And, because it’s the way I was raised, take time to thank people for their hospitality. I usually do it via a handwritten thank you note. But, perhaps you can offer an hour of adoration, a Mass intention or a rosary for those folks who made your vacation special. Whatever way you do it, invoke the Holy Spirit. Written by Katheryn W. First published here.

My husband and I have had issues. At one point I thought we were resolved to simply tolerate each other until death did we part. Maybe you've felt that way in your relationship: like you couldn't be your real selves. Like you were holding your breath. But the past couple of years of marriage brought something totally new and game-changing. Vulnerability. Painful, heart-n-gut wrenching, all-revealing vulnerability. After stuffing my feelings and desires for years, I finally let them out little by little. I was honest and learned how to be brave. And you know what? My husband felt the same way. We were stuck in a stalemate of being guarded and for all intents and purposes, hoarding our hearts. But I’ve told him everything now. Andrew knows me whole and entire and loves me anyway. He opened himself to me after years of not. I know him whole and entire and love him because of it. Which is how it’s supposed to work. Christ made himself vulnerable to His Bride the Church at all times: as a newborn, as a child amid aged wisdom in the temple, as a tired man continuing to give Himself to souls starving for truth, as One righteous yet crucified, and as One who reigns with the Father in Heaven but is here on Earth as Bread. And we are ABSOLUTELY supposed to live in imitation of that same vulnerability, which is a tall order and super, super hard. But now it’s like I’m seeing my husband for the first time, the real him, after continuing to let him into my heart and make myself a safe place for his. Next month is our ninth anniversary. We have zero plans for going out. No money for gifts. I’m postpartum with our fifth and we’re steeped in life. But hands down, we’re the happiest we’ve ever been because I know the man to whom I’m married and he knows me. Nine years. Five babies. The highest highs and lowest lows I can imagine. And most importantly a marriage made new in Christ. Last year on the morning of our 8th anniversary, he gave me a letter. “My dearest, dearest Love,” it began, “You have unlocked my heart…” Written by Katie Sciba. Find out more about her here.

Hot tears covered my hands. I brushed my wet hair from my face and looked up from the table and into my husband's eyes. Some noise blaring from the television kept our children entertained while I stepped away from dinner prep and tried to get my bearings. The two plastic sticks on the bathroom counter had flashed “pregnant” but I couldn’t believe it. Couldn't accept it. This was impossible. Well, obviously not impossible, but it seemed so unlikely. More than that, I had some kind of unspoken deal with God. I would work on getting better, and He would give me time. I needed time and lots of it. I needed space, distance, a great arm's length from the darkness that had been the year before, and I was just coming out of the fog. For months and months, I had been struggling with postpartum depression. I’m no stranger to depression, but this was a new beast. It wore a different mask, and it took me almost a year to realize that I needed help. For the sake of my marriage, my children, and my own sanity, I needed help. It peaked during some naptime battle in the bleak days of February where winter was dragging its heavy feet, and the end just wasn’t in sight. I sat there on the edge the tub, crying and thinking “if only something happened to me and I could leave this place.” I immediately texted a girlfriend of mine who has been a lifeline for me on more than one occasion. She talked to me until my face stopped tingling and the panic had subsided. That week I had to call my husband home from work and we made a plan. I would get help, and I did. My therapist was a true God-send. Together, she helped me work through the muck that I had been dragging myself and my family through. On my second to the last session, we were doing some wrapping up. I had started exercising, we moved into a better place for our family, and I was really started to do a lot more living and less surviving. So on that day, she asked me what were some last few things I might like to discuss. I mentioned that NFP (natural family planning) had been a real challenge for us during the last year, and this was a first for us. My first three pregnancies were planned. Even though we lost our first baby to miscarriage, we were fortunate in that the months we were ready to expand our family, I got pregnant right away. And after my first was born, my cycles returned within a couple of months due to breastfeeding not working out, so charting my signs of fertility was a breeze. My second son was able to nurse, so my cycles had not returned for several months, and I felt like we were in no-man’s land. His birth has hard on me both physically and mentally, and with the depression on top of it all, I was just not ready. #nobabies2016 I jokingly said to friends. But she encouraged me to talk it through. What would happen if we were blessed with another baby right now? My immediate reaction was something along the lines of “it would not be a blessing.” She reminded me that nine months is a long time to prepare for a baby. I left feeling less freaked out about the prospect but confident that I wouldn't need to worry about another pregnancy any time soon. Shortly after that session, I was at the grocery store and, while gazing lovingly at a package of chocolate donuts, the pieces started to fall into place. The wall of exhaustion that I had been hitting every day for a couple of weeks now. The weeping over shows in the last few days. I turned around from the checkout lane and threw a box of pregnancy tests in my basket. That night, sitting with my husband at the table, I cried. I cried for days. I just couldn’t go through the wringer again. I felt trapped. And for the first time in my life, I was mad at God. Hadn’t we been faithful? We were good Catholics who were open to life! We had two children, and I was still nursing one! It wasn’t like we didn’t want more children, we just didn’t want another one right then. By the end of the summer, after spending weeks feeling like I had to defend our personal choices to continue to use NFP, but feeling afraid to reveal that this wasn’t exactly an intentional pregnancy, I was in a much better place. I wasn’t so angry anymore. My heart was softened, and that was a good thing because I needed a real “come to Jesus” moment. We were on our annual pilgrimage to the Shrine of our Lady of Guadalupe in Wisconsin with good friends of ours. I was kneeling in the confessional, and the sweet priest reminded me of something that I had truly forgotten. While my husband and I were involved in the creation of this new human being, we were still merely co-creators. Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you -Jeremiah 1:5 And there I was, crying again. God had ordained this little life before he ever started growing in my body. While we had a perfectly good reason to postpone a pregnancy, God knew better. So my new goal was to shift my attitude from one of a victim to one of gratitude. Because even then, no life is guaranteed. It wasn’t a sure thing that I would even get to meet this baby, or wake up the next day. I don’t know the whole story yet, but I do know that this sweet baby has been such a delight for our family and a joy to my heart. His disposition is so mild, and he’s just started smiling. That gummy grin lights up my heart, and it’s been such a reminder that the rainbow comes after the storm and I can trust my Lord to stand through it all with me. Written by Jacqui Skemp. Find out more about her here.

As you might have ascertained from this post's very blunt title, it is about, shall we say, extended singlehood. Far be it from me to brag, but singlehood is a topic I feel relatively equipped to write about since I have been single for the vast majority of my 35 years on this earth. Whether you are in the single lady boat with me or a hitched lady of 5, 10, 20, or 30 years, I hope you keep reading. Not because my single life is extraordinary, but because, in fact, it is utterly ordinary. But sometimes (most of the time) we can learn good things from the ordinary, so here goes . . . . If you were to have told me when I was 25 that I would be single at 35 I'm not sure what I would have done. Cried. Laughed in disbelief perhaps. Like many woman, it wasn't part of my grand plan to be single at this stage in my life’s journey. In fact, my anticipated route through life was as follows: be married by my mid-to-late twenties with a frolicking band of kiddos by 35. I'd homeschool and garden and raise chickens on our little country plot and he'd have a day job in the nearest town and handily help me with projects at home. We'd read nerdy Catholic literature and he'd sing Matt Maher's Set Me as a Seal to me and it would just be this beautiful, Catholic marriage. (Okay, maybe I wasn't that particular in my dreaming but it was close.) I was firmly rooted in the knowledge that the Church upheld marriage as a Sacrament, a beautiful path to holiness, and I loved all the things that were written from the heart of the Church on marriage. Among other things, the Catechism says: "Since God created them man and woman, their mutual love becomes an image of the absolute and unfailing love with which God loves man. It is good, very good, in the Creator’s eyes. And this love which God blesses is intended to be fruitful and to be realized in the common work of watching over creation." (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1604) I wanted that. I wanted another in my life to whom I could love and give myself fully. I wanted a marriage that reflected, albeit imperfectly, God's love poured out on humanity. It's at the very core of our nature to desire to make this vow, a forever promise, whether that be to marriage or to consecrated life. So, when that doesn't happen for someone, it stings, sort of like we've been invited to a party and we've arrived dressed to impress, but our name isn't on the guest list. Sometimes it feels just rotten. I've been there. I totally get it. There were years in my post-mid-twenties, post-late twenties, post-early thirties, where the reality of not being wed was exceedingly difficult. I'd dread the weddings of friends and family members, not because I didn’t love them or desire their happiness, but because the pangs of loneliness were too fierce. (For the record, bouquet tosses are less fun for single ladies than one might think). I spent years praying for my spouse, praying to be introduced to my spouse, praying for patience as I waited for my spouse. I was so focused on the one good thing that wasn't happening in my life that I was missing out on so much of the good that was happening. I had found my professional calling and was growing in leadership roles in my community. I had the blessing of fantastic friends and housemates. I was learning to be a more devoted daughter and sister and auntie. But I couldn't see those things. I was often neglectful and petty and negative. My heart railed at God, "If you can't give me this one thing, then I refuse to be thankful for the hundreds of other good things you've given me!" It wasn't a pretty time for me. But in the angst and frustration and hard-heartedness I slowly learned (thanks be to God) that God has chosen me to be schooled in my single-ness. In this school, I'm learning lots of things, most recently that I have the great blessing of being available when those in my life need me. Like when my dad was sick or a friend had a baby or a marriage in my community is really struggling. I have the freedom to be present in a way that is a whole lot harder when you are married and have kiddos. I’m learning to embrace that availability while at the same time still longing for my vocation. It is possible to exist in both of those worlds. If you are single and frustrated, I'm in the journey with you, and I'd like to share a few suggestions while you are waiting for Mr. Right (because, sisters, there is much to be done as we wait): Keep a journal. Perhaps One Line a Day variety that allows you to reflect from year to year on the good things that God is doing in your life. Sometimes what is most helpful when you are playing the ever-dreadful waiting game is to remember that even when life feels like it's not moving, it is. Life lessons are learned, jobs and promotions and degrees are attained, and we, by His grace, become holier and more attentive to His will. Take note of what you've learned, what you've been struck by, what you are most grateful for. Writing down what you are noticing from year-to-year is a helpful way of reminding yourself that we are moving forward, even if it doesn't feel like it. Read about marriage. One book on my bedside table currently is Wing to Wing, Oar to Oar: Readings on Courting and Marrying. Reading about the Sacrament of matrimony is my way of learning and allowing my heart to be cultivated in preparation for meeting Mr. Right, if that ever happens. That being said, if you're at a place in life where it just hurts too much to read about/talk about/pray about marriage, I get it. It's okay to take a step back and not dive-head first into all that stuff. Do other things that bring you joy, whether it's taking up an art form or hosting a meal for friends or joining a pick-up sports team. Our hearts are multi-faceted, and sometimes we need to polish up one side before we can work on another. Pray about love. About a year ago my morning prayer, for whatever reason, changed from praying for and finding my spouse to: Lord, show me how to love and to be loved today. Because to be a good spouse, it's not just about learning how to love and be devoted to him, or even in general about learning how to love well. It's also about learning how to be loved well. And the outcome of that prayer has been so fruitful. I've become closer and more vulnerable in a good way, I've learned to share my emotions, I've learned to be more honest and authentic. Say this prayer, sisters, whether you’ve found your vocation or not. It is powerful. And for all of you happily married readers out there, might I request the following three things to support those single gals in your tribe: Pray. Pray for holy marriages in your family, church, and community. If your church prays for vocations at the start of Mass, make sure to pray also for good and holy marriages. In your prayer share quietly in a moment of suffering for those who are desiring of marriage and haven't yet found their vocation. This single lady would be so grateful, and is praying for you, too, in whatever difficulties you are encountering in your marriage. Say hello to a single person at Mass. Sometimes, going to Mass is lonely (just a touch ironic considering that the Eucharist is celebrated by thousands upon thousands at the same moment in time). Come out of your shell, just a bit, and introduce yourself to that single person. Say hello again the next time you see him/her. Maybe even go out on a limb and invite that single person to brunch with your family. I learn so much from my coupled friends when I see what marriage and family life looks like for them. Don't be afraid to be the imperfect teacher. We single folks need a healthy dose of realism in our lives. We all do. Be willing to play matchmaker. Our contemporary culture has lost this fine art and it is so unfortunate because the best matchmakers are not online dating websites (even though, I admit, they can be helpful tools). Be willing to say to your single guy friend, co-worker, or sibling (with permission from any affected woman of course), "Hey, I know this great woman, she's faith-filled and genuine, and . . . can I give you her number?" If the first date tanks, it tanks. It’s not the end of the world. Really and truly, as a single person, I honestly don't mind being set-up, assuming it's more than simply a "Hey, he's Catholic, your Catholic; you'd be perfect for one another!" set-up (which, by the way, never turns out well). Ultimately, here’s the bottom line, Sisters. Being single is hard. Sometimes, so is being married. Sometimes, so is the religious life. Sometimes it's exceedingly hard. But it's in the hardness of these sufferings that we come to realize that “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint because God’s love has been poured into our hearts.” (Romans 5:3-5). Let us use the blessing of waiting to allow our hearts to grow and be nurtured. I would never have thought that I would be grateful for being 35 and single but (gasp!) I am. God is about it. He knows what He is doing. [bctt tweet="God knows what He is doing."] Written by Karen Schultz. Find out more about her here.

When my husband, Matt, and I started dating on August 17, 2014, we decided it would be fun to celebrate our anniversary each month. While our festivities have ranged from sending e-cards to each other to having a picnic in a park, this idea of checking in each month and celebrating us has been so fruitful. Since we got married, we switched our month-er-versary to reflect our wedding date (the 11th), and we've come up with a few favorite ideas to relive that special day each month that I'd like to share: Share your favorite memories from the past month & goals for your next month. So much can happen in a month, and talking about it is a great way to keep those memories alive. Whether you spend a few minutes recapping your most recent trip to visit family or laughing about the hilarious things your toddler says, take the time to relive those moments as they are precious. Also, let each other know what goals you have for the next month, so you can support one another in achieving them. Read the readings from your wedding day together. Remember the Mass readings that were read at your wedding? Why not read them together and see how they speak to you today versus your wedding day. It never ceases to amaze me at how a particular verse may speak to my heart one month, and then a completely different one does the same thing the next month. Find a time that works best for you to read them together and see how the Holy Spirit is speaking to you! Wear your wedding shoes or jewelry from your wedding day! I absolutely adore the jewelry that my mom helped me pick out for our wedding, so I usually try to wear at least my earrings if not all of my jewelry on our month-er-versary. While I love my white ballet flats, they are not the most practical shoes for Minnesota winters, so I am hoping to start wearing them again once the weather warms! Wearing the jewelry makes me think back to getting ready and the excited feeling I had as I prepared to see Matt for the first time. Look at your wedding photos. Do you have a wedding album or favorite pictures from your wedding day? Looking at them together can be a great way to remember the details of your day. It can also be a great way to remember your loved ones that traveled to witness your marriage or perhaps those that have since passed away since your wedding. We usually flip through our wedding album right before bed, and it's so fun seeing how our nieces and nephew have grown or remembered the awesome gelato and cake we had for dessert. Do you have any favorite ways to celebrate your anniversary? We'd love to hear them below in the comments! Written by Joan Geiger. Find out more about her here. First published on Everything is Yours. Republished here with permission.

Like many women, my love of Jane Austen began in my teen years but it wasn’t until my 20’s that the lessons of her heroines and their leading men started to affect the way I viewed dating in my own life. A Little Backstory Back in the 90’s when I was in college and began to date more seriously, I had fallen away from my faith and dated guys without much thought to the type of men they were. If I were to relate to any of Jane Austen’s characters, I would definitely have been Marianne Dashwood dating a string of wrong-for-me Willoughbys. I had a knack for falling in love with man-boys who were poetically trying to “find themselves” and didn’t have any direction in their lives. In my early twenties, I came back to the faith in a strong way and narrowed the dating pool to Christian men. However, when it came down to getting more serious, our differing faiths always stopped us from continuing the relationships. During this time, God was also working on my heart at a deeper level. Specifically, I was wondering if I had a religious vocation. Frankly, the thought seemed absurd at first. I was Marianne Dashwood destined for romance and love! However, after two years of turning my life upside down and seriously discerning, I reached a point of total surrender to God and accepted a call to a religious vocation. It was a time of deep spiritual growth and God wanted my unreserved “Yes.” Ironically, once I reached that point God made it known to me (and my spiritual director) that I was called to the married life. This put me back into the dating scene, which scared me a little since I hadn’t had the best of luck. I remember my mom making an observation that I always picked guys who needed to be “fixed” and never a guy who motivated me to better myself. She said I needed to find qualities in a man that lifted me up and challenged me to be the best version of myself, a man who was seeking the Kingdom of God and who would work alongside me on our journey of faith. This was exactly what God had been putting on my heart and hearing my mom say the words out loud confirmed it. In Steps Mr. Knightly During this time in the mid to late 90’s, there was a slew of Jane Austen movie adaptations, Sense and Sensibility with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslette, Persuasion with Ciaron Hinds and Amanda Root, and Emma with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong, to name a few. I loved those movies but the 1995 Emma really took hold of my heart. A part of me didn’t like Mr. Knightly at first because he was so serious and judgmental of Emma. But another part of me admired him because he loved Emma enough to speak freely to her and to call her out when she was behaving badly. He loved her, faults and all, but challenged her to be a better version of herself. I watched the movie and read the book more than once and each time Mr. Knightly’s qualities shone brighter. There was a kindness and compassion in the way he cared for his tenants and rescued Jane Fairfax from her humiliation. He displayed quiet generosity in the way he did little things for his neighbors without fanfare. Plus, his maturity and wisdom allowed him to see beyond the obvious in situations, such as his suspicions of Jane and Frank. I thought of all these things as I stared at the TV screen and thought, I need to find a Mr. Knightly! It may sound like a joke, but the thought would not leave me. I was determined to break the cycle of dating the wrong kind of man. I knew I had a weakness for “needing” to be in a relationship even if it was a bad one. I knew I had to start dating with God and my faith in mind. I needed to understand that it was okay to be one my own and wait for the right kind of guy. So I sat down at my desk and made a list of all the qualities I should be looking for in a man I dated. I crossed out all the superficial things I loved (like he wore Doc Martens or Converse and listened to alternative music) and instead thought of Godly things that mattered. All these years later, I still have that list. It reads: God is #1 in his life. He is Catholic. He actually lives his faith and is seeing holiness. He has a job capable of supporting a family. He loves his family and respects his parents. He loves my family and mom likes him. He loves children and is open to life. He has a beautiful smile and a sense of humor. We have things in common to talk about and discuss. He has traits of Mr. Knightly that will inspire and encourage me to seek greater holiness. I copied the list onto a piece of paper that I would use as a book marker in my planner. I added a photo of Mr. Knightly from the movie as a reminder to stand firm and not give into the next cute agnostic poet who was out of a job and living in his parent’s basement. I knew I may not find someone with ALL these qualities but I needed to at least start working towards that goal. How Does the Story End? I wish I could say that after this revelation I found Mr. Right immediately but I did not. However, every day when I saw my little Mr. Knightly list, I prayed for my future husband. I asked that God strengthen him in his faith and prepare both our hearts for our future marriage. It was difficult, sometimes really difficult, to be patient and to trust in God when I saw no answer in sight, but I persevered. What I didn’t know at the time was that my future husband (Brian) was in the seminary and he was going through his own vocational discernment. He was praying to God for guidance. He eventually discerned that he was called to marriage and left the seminary to return home. He prayed a nine-day novena to Our Lord asking God to help him in finding his future wife. On the ninth and last day of his novena we happened to “meet” online. (Talk about answered prayer!) There began a friendship that was to blossom into love. I had found a man who was unlike any other guy I had ever dated. (My mom still marvels over that!) No man is perfect, but Brian was a perfect match for me. He possessed the qualities I was looking for and challenged me and inspired me to be a better person. He gave me roots to tame my flightiness. In turn, I challenged him to love and laugh more and to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. We complimented one another. I had found my version of Mr. Knightly and I’m happy to say that 18 years later he still makes my heart skip a beat. A Note to the Single Sisters If you find yourself dating the wrong kind of men, maybe it’s time to quiet yourself before God and ask Him why. Is there a deeper reason you keep choosing the wrong kind of guys? Do you feel like you don’t deserve anyone better? Do you have the need to be a guy’s savior? Do you need healing from past hurts or bad habits? I’d recommend finding someone to discuss these concerns with you, a spiritual director, a therapist, or a friend who is knowledgeable and strong in the faith. Maybe there is no deeper reason and you just need to be a little more discretionary in who you date. If it will help, make a list! Ask God what qualities you should be looking for in a man. Is he a Godly man? Does he take his faith seriously? Is he honest? Does he have integrity or are there red flags? Do you have things in common? Does he inspire you to love God more? These are the kind of qualities that will make a strong foundation for a relationship and eventually a marriage. No man is perfect (and you and I certainly aren’t) but you want someone willing to work towards holiness with you. Or perhaps, you aren’t dating Mr. Wrong and you know what you are looking for in a man but you still haven’t found Mr. Right. When I was single, I hated when people told me to be patient and wait for God’s timing. It’s easy to say but sometimes it sucks to live it out. However, I found that the waiting was less difficult when I, first, keep myself close to God and worked on my relationship with Christ. Second, when I kept myself busy with life and doing God’s will for me at that moment. Lastly, when I prayed for my future husband. When the heart ache came to me I offered it up to God for my future husband and whatever struggles he was going through at that moment. This helped keep hope in my heart, knowing that my prayers could help him even though we were separated at this time. As someone who felt like the least likely to find true love, I say wholeheartedly, don’t lose hope. God is capable of doing amazing things when you follow His path and trust His timing. Written by Bobbi Rol. Find out more about her here. This post was originally published at Revolution of Love.com. Reprinted here with permission.