I'm currently in the throes of the first trimester of pregnancy. Now, whether you've been pregnant or not, you probably have the general idea that this period of time, for many, is not easy. At the risk of wandering into complainer territory, I'll leave it at that. I find the biggest challenge during this time is how singularly focused I can become. And not on anything good. My mind tends to stay on one topic and that's how awful I feel and how badly I wish the days could speed up. All temporary, all a moment, but it consumes me. This is not just a dilemma of pregnancy. We are all at risk for falling into the trap of being swallowed up—by a feeling, an emotion, an obsession, or any myriad of things. This perspective is keeps us earthbound, in a way. It's too narrow, too simple, for a soul made for Heaven. Scripture is filled of reminders for us to run the race, to steady the course, to not fall asleep as we hear in today's Gospel (see Matthew 25:1-13), yet over and over I find myself sidelined by something very human, and my eyes taken off the Cross. Jesus knew we would all be inclined to struggle in this way. Our Lord promises us the grace to suffer well, and the grace to wait well, like the faithful virgin in today's Gospel. I can't wait around to make my life a prayer, and neither should you, whatever your current struggle. When we get lost in our own troubles, we run the risk of missing out on Jesus Himself Who comes to us in the everyday with the grace to make us Saints. * It’s important to note that since writing this devotion, our baby was lost to miscarriage. Trusting in God’s everlasting goodness, this message has never been more true. Lord, help me to suffer well! Uniting all my struggles with yours and to the Cross. [bctt tweet="Lord, help me to suffer well! // Blythe Fike" username="blessedisshe__"] Meditate over this prayer for an increased outpouring of God's graces today. Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 8 smallish kids. She loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

The story of the death of John the Baptist (Mark 6:17-29) is truly the story of one bad decision after another. There are many points at which the violent ending could have been prevented. Herod could have stopped himself before rashly promising Herodias’ daughter anything she wished (frankly, he should have known a promise like that was asking for trouble). Herodias could have risen above her grudge and told her daughter to request something (anything!) other than John’s severed head. The daughter could have resisted her mother’s command, refusing to be a party to murder. And Herod—who, it should be noted, is deeply distressed by the request—could have risen above his fear of looking weak to his guests and family and refused to order the execution. But he doesn’t. He—like his wife and stepdaughter—gives in to his worst instincts, and a man dies as a result. My own life doesn’t involve quite this level of drama. Yours probably doesn’t, either. But I still think there’s a universal resonance to this story, and it has to do with how we make decisions. What guides the choices we make? Is it ego, or a need to look good, like Herod? Are we driven by a personal grudge, or by the desire to stamp out a truth that is too uncomfortable to face, as we see with Herod’s wife? Or do our decisions come from the best parts of ourselves: our love, our compassion? Are we guided by the desire to forgive? Are we strong enough to listen to our conscience, even when it’s inconvenient? Do we embrace peace and reject vengeance, even if it means others will call us weak? The stakes, for us, are rarely as high as they are for Herod and his family. But every day, in little ways, we have to make difficult choices. And when we let ourselves be guided by our best selves, not our worst, the decisions we make will look very different from those made in today’s Gospel. They may not be easy, but they will be blessed. [bctt tweet="What guides the choices we make? // Ginny Kubitz Moyer" username="blessedisshe__"] This in-depth look at the Catholic encyclopedia on habit provides much food for thought on how to be guided by our best selves. Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of Random MOMents of Grace: Experiencing God in the Adventures of Motherhood and Mary and Me: Catholic Women Reflect on the Mother of God. Ginny lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, two boys, and about thirty thousand Legos. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Seven Sacraments found here.

Today is a day of hope for mothers of wayward sons. I am the mother of a son. As such, whenever I see Saint Augustine’s name written anywhere, I now find it difficult to separate thoughts of his life from thoughts of his mother's life, and the pain she endured as Augustine found his way to God after many years spent lost in sin and shame. It is recorded that Saint Augustine’s wayward resistance to the Lord lasted for seventeen years. Ultimately, Saint Monica witnessed his acceptance of Christ after following him to Milan, Italy. As we give thanks to God for the life of Saint Augustine on his memorial today, we can reflect on the joy Monica must have felt in that season when her son finally found his way to the heart of Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church. Perhaps you do not have a son of your own, but it is likely you know a lost or wayward son. Perhaps it is your own son, or your brother, your cousin, or a friend. There are many men who, like Augustine, have turned from the faith they were raised in, have turned from their families, have turned from God. And there are countless mothers who, like Monica, pray unceasingly for their hearts and their return home to Him. The conversion of Saint Augustine, wayward for so many years only to become a Doctor of the Church, is a brilliant ray of hope for all who pray for these lost sons. Let us revive our prayers for these men today, keeping hope and faith alive that God has the power to work in their hearts and invite them back to a life lived in Him. [bctt tweet="Today is a day of hope for mothers of wayward sons. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] This powerful novena to Saint Augustine for his intercession is able to be started at any time. Emily Wilson Hussem planned her whole life to become a sports reporter but turned out to be a Catholic musician and speaker at the hand of God. She lives out of her suitcase and travels across the world speaking to people of all ages. The heart of her ministry is offering encouragement to teen girls in search of their true identity, and she loves every second of it. She is the author of I Choose the Sky and Go Bravely. You can find out more about her here.

“Don’t push your beliefs on me.” “I’m glad your faith fills your needs. It’s not for me.” “Keep your religion out of this.” Ever heard a comment like these? Living in a culture that suggests we keep our beliefs categorized and privately filed away in a folder reserved for church attendance, it’s hard being Catholic in the every day. Just like the Apostles in today’s First Reading (1 Thessalonians 2:1-8), we’ve been entrusted with the Gospel. Most of us yearn to share with those we love, but maybe we’re tired of being shot down or a lack of results. It’s discouraging to be surrounded by people who believe faith should be a private slice of our life rather than the primary seasoning permeating our values and decision making. I’ve heard, “Good for you, but that’s not for me” more times than I want to remember. I find it tempting to do exactly that: keep it to myself. Today we honor Saint Monica, a saintly woman known for her persistence in prayer. She was a Christian but was married off to a pagan who criticized her piety. Nonetheless, Monica steadfastly lived out her faith, daily praying for her family’s souls. Finally, a year before his death, her husband converted. Her eldest son, however, still pursued a life permeated by heresy and lust. I can only imagine how much her heart must have ached, watching him choose sin and selfishness repeatedly. And yet, Monica didn’t give up. She patiently prayed and fasted for his salvation. Not only that, she followed him around from country to country as a steadfast example of Jesus’ love and presence in his life. A few years before her own death, Saint Monica received the gift of her son being baptized into the Catholic faith. Today he’s known to us as Saint Augustine, a beloved Doctor of the Church. Monica’s relentless petitions for the conversion of her family were honored, and now we have this holy woman to look to and be inspired by as we pray for the conversion of those nearest us. [bctt tweet="Monica didn’t give up. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn more about this extraordinary woman's persistence and take inspiration from her life. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother to four boys while living in a 200 year old farmhouse. When not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or snagging amazing antique furniture deals. You can find out more about her here.

As I read this opening of Saint Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, I can’t help but cringe just a little. He is so filled with love, and joy, and exuberance for his brothers and sisters in Christ. He delights in them. I am forced to reflect on my last interpersonal interchange—the last time I looked eye-to-eye with someone. I did not convey delight. I conveyed irritation. And I conveyed this irritation to one of my most precious people, in whom I do truly delight. In the day-to-day, tedious exchanges of life, it is easy and even natural to show irritation, even to those in whom we delight. I find that too often I save my smiles for the strangers in the check-out line or the drive-through window, and yet I turn to scowl at the bickering voices in the backseat. Often our lives are filled with false flattery for strangers and snarky remarks and short-tempered quips for loved ones. When I show such duplicity of the soul, I am exhibiting both hypocrisy and a lack of self-control. If I can keep my self-control in check for the stranger, why can I not do the same for the loved one? When I fail to do so, I am no better than the scribes whom Jesus chastises in today’s Gospel. Our subtle and not so subtle exchanges seem insignificant in the moment, but the cumulative effect is damaging to the relationship. In whom do you delight? Do you show them your delight? Let us try to be especially aware this week of how we treat those in your inner circle and make adjustments if needed. We are gifted with these loved ones; let's find delight in them. [bctt tweet="In whom do you delight?" username="blessedisshe__"] Saint John Chrysostom gives us great insights into this Scripture passage this this homily. Dr. MaryRuth Hackett is the host of the podcast Parenting Smarts. She loves historical fiction, dark chocolate, watching her children play soccer, a good cup of coffee (decaf please) and the quiet of the early morning. She holds a PhD in Educational Psychology and has a passion for helping parents understand the way their children grow and develop. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and the author of our Blessed Conversations: Leader Guide found here. You can find out more about her here.

I used to work with older adults and was surprised how much I enjoyed conversations with them as they shared stories of their lives. One man I worked with told me one day of how he helped build the small country church in the tiny town where he had lived his entire life. I was moved with what a beautiful life accomplishment that would be, to physically build a place of worship for yourself and your community. I thought to myself then and now how meaningful it would be to build a church, truly a life accomplishment. But then I'm reminded that the Church is not simply a piece of human achievement, art, or skill; it is made of humans. Jesus chose to build His Church upon real, fallible, weak people. Saint Peter, Saint John, Saint Bartholomew whom we celebrate today, and all the Apostles, were real human men and could disappoint so much more easily than a beautiful building or work of art. They were chosen by God Incarnate to be the foundation of His Church for the entire world. The Church is all of us weak human beings who betray, who sin, who walk away. We are so much more unsteady and untrustworthy than a beautiful temple or cathedral. But Jesus chooses to elevate all of us baptized in His name to become members of His Mystical Body: the Church. That Jesus would choose to give His Apostles and us so much, that He would entrust His Church to us, is a great mystery. It is a mystery that I still wrestle with in understanding the many ways people in the Church fail, disappoint, and destroy, and my own desire to build up and support the Church so that it can reach more souls both now and in the future. In many ways building a physical building is so much easier than building up the Church. Even though it feels far less profound and tangible, I'm building the Church right now as I live out my vocation, as I share the Faith with others, as I raise my children in the Faith. You have the opportunity to build up the Church up too, wherever you are. [bctt tweet="But Jesus chooses to elevate all of us baptized in His name to become members of His Mystical Body: the Church. // @christyisinger" username="blessedisshe__"] Blessed Fulton Sheen wrote a whole book about the Mystical Body of Christ, and here's a great audio clip about it. Christy Isinger is a wife and mom to five lovely, loud children and lives in northern Canada. When not homeschooling, she is a devoted reader of English literature from Jane Austen to Agatha Christie. She writes about the beauty of faith, life, and the home at her blog and is the co-host of the Fountains of Carrots Podcast. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Ten Commandments study found here.

My favorite plot line in the Pixar film Finding Nemo is the fact that Dory never leaves. Dory, a friendly blue fish with short-term memory loss, meets Marlin, a paranoid clown fish who has just lost his son at sea. Marlin is understandably distraught by this separation and is on a quest to find and rescue his son. When his path crosses with that of Dory, Marlin believes he has found a guide through the tumultuous ocean. The pair endure a series of ups-and-downs. Marlin, in his despair, grows irritated with Dory and tries to push her away on several occasions. He wants to withdraw, to go alone, to be alone. But Dory never (really) leaves. What Marlin ultimately finds is a Ruth-like friend. In today’s First Reading, we meet Naomi and her daughter-in-law, Ruth. Naomi’s husband and son die, leaving both women as widows. In the depths of her grief, Naomi commands Ruth to leave her, to go back to her people, and to start a new life. But Ruth sees right through Naomi’s pain. She refuses to go, doubling down on her commitment to Naomi. She proclaims that Naomi is her family and that she will follow her anywhere. (See Ruth 1:16.) Do you have a Ruth in your life? Someone who refuses to leave you when you’re down-and-out? We all experience moments of great loss, grief, despair, and disappointment. Our fallen human nature wants to recoil, to withdraw, to turn so inward that we lose sight of the Light. We need good friends who refuse to leave us. We need good friends who will plunge into the dark depths of our seas of suffering and stay by our sides, encouraging us to just keep swimming, telling us that they will not abandon or forsake us. (See Ruth 1:1-14). We need good friends who will love us like they love themselves. (See Matthew 22: 34-40.) The Lord brings so much healing to our hearts through the fidelity of our friends. Let's pray that we can be that kind of friend, too. [bctt tweet="Do you have a Ruth in your life? Someone who refuses to leave you when you’re down-and-out? // @to_the_heights" username="blessedisshe__"] Did you catch our free summer gatherings about friendship? They're available for free playback at anytime. Olivia Spears lives in Kentucky where the sweet tea and bourbon flow like milk and honey. She is the Blog Manager for Blessed is She and works from home as an editor and social media manager. She likes to binge novels and Netflix while raising her children and laughing with her husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

Sometimes I feel lost like I am on the outside of life looking in. I feel lost when I believe the lies that I am not good enough for God to love and accept me. This false and destructive thought obscures my identity as a daughter of God. I forget that I am enough; everything is a gift; I am beloved. Without a sense of security and rootedness, I start to grasp at power, prestige, comforts, and possessions. Today’s Gospel and the Memorial of the Queenship of Mary remind us we are clothed in the glory of the children of God. After the invited guests refuse to go to the king’s party, the king instructs his servants to go into the streets and gather everyone they find, the bad and the good alike. All of us have the joy of being invited as one of the King’s guests even if we were counted among the bad and the good. It is through Christ’s Most Precious Blood shed on the Cross we have been invited to the heavenly banquet. (See Matthew 22:1-14.) But what do we do with that disturbing scene when the king finds the man without a wedding garment and throws him out? When I read this passage, I have often thought, What is that wedding garment and how do I get one, fast? The wedding garment is not something we will find in a store; it’s provided by God. Our good Father gives us all that we need. He first invites us and then provides the baptismal wedding garment of Redemption. We receive this garment in our Baptism. When we seek to live in relationship with the Trinity indwelling in our souls, we enter into the glory of the children of God through the Blood of Our Lord Jesus. We are called and made for this glory. Our Blessed Mother—Queen of Heaven and Earth wears this majestic raiment. She teaches us, guards us, and guides us to the wedding feast of heaven—especially when we feel lost. [bctt tweet="Today’s Gospel and the Memorial of the Queenship of Mary remind us we are clothed in the glory of the children of God. // @SrMariaKim" username="blessedisshe__"] Have you done our Mystery study? The Queenship of Mary is celebrated in the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. Sister Maria Kim Bui is a Daughter of Saint Paul, women religious dedicated to evangelization in and through the media. She is originally from Tempe, AZ, spent most of her fourteen years in religious life in the northeast, some time in Texas, and now was recently asked to serve as the director of marketing and sales at the Sisters' publishing house in Boston. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and the author of our Blessed Conversations Mystery: Belong found here. Find out more about her here.

"Why do you stand here idle all day?" (Matthew 20:6) The word 'idle' has new meaning to me in the midst of a week serving in Lourdes, France. For those of you who do not know, Lourdes is where Saint Bernadette was graced by the presence of the Mary, the Immaculate Conception, in 1858. It is one of seventeen approved Marian apparition sites in the world. Serving at Lourdes is both laborious and idle. At one moment you can be aiding a woman in the healing waters at the piscine, and the next moment you can be standing in the grotto for three hours helping pilgrims maintain silence in a sacred space. It is the idle standing that hurts your feet, back, and pride. In today's culture, we are rarely idle. In fact, most of us don’t stop till we hit the pillow. We are so used to serving in a way that feels fulfilling, has purpose, and provides accolades for our work and achievements. However, when we are given a task so minor and seemingly meaningless, our pride can become wounded if not destroyed. We compare the roles or projects we are given at work, school, or in our families to those that others receive, and we want our assignments to be the best. When the landowner in today’s Gospel asked, “Why do you stand here idle all day?” I had to reflect on two questions: Where am I idle in my spiritual life? Where is God calling me to be idle so I might grow in relationship with Him? There will come a day when we will be idle because our bodies have grown weak and frail. I have seen that firsthand this week in Lourdes. God calls us to be His hands and feet daily. Do not wait till the last hour of work to respond to His call. [bctt tweet="God calls us to be His hands and feet daily. // @SoCalTriciaT" username="blessedisshe__"] The devout and simple Saint Bernadette has so much to teach us! Read more about her life today. Tricia Tembreull is a California girl with a boundless passion for life. After two decades of ministering to teens and youth ministers as a trainer, ministry mentor, and speaker in Catholic youth ministry, Tricia now serves as Campus Minister at USC Caruso Catholic Center. She loves adventure and seeks it everywhere she goes. As an avid foodie, she enjoys testing new recipes out on friends and family, gathering them around the table to encounter Christ in one another and be drawn to the satisfying unity we crave in the Eucharist. You can find out more about her here.

In Jesus’ time, many people believed that material wealth was a sign of God’s favor . . . a misconception that can still be seen today in “prosperity gospel” preachers and the general cult of celebrity worship. But Jesus is clear: “It will be hard for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:23). Just before saying this, Jesus had called the rich young man to give all his wealth to the poor and follow Him (Matthew 19:16-22). Are we each called to do the same? Interestingly, it would seem not. Jesus had disciples who were wealthy and hadn’t been called to renounce that wealth such as the women who provided for the material needs of Jesus and the Apostles (Luke 8:3), or Joseph of Arimathea who is described as “rich” and provided Jesus’ tomb and embalming spices (Matthew 27:57) among others. The key is in our attachment to wealth and material goods. We cannot fall into the trap of loving, worshiping even, our possessions and the idea of wealth. This makes loving and worshiping God impossible. (See Matthew 6:24.) Jesus tells us in the beatitudes that we must be “poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3) to inherit the kingdom of heaven. Maybe it was attendance at too many pep rallies in my youth, but I used to misunderstand the emphasis on this phrase, thinking Jesus was saying we were to be dejected or lacking in spiritedness. But, of course, it’s just the opposite. A true Christian always has “spirit” (yes, we do). But it’s that we are called to be POOR in our hearts, whether or not we are poor in fact. How can we be good stewards of the gifts God has given us (be they wealth, talent, whatever) and use them generously to help Jesus and our fellow man? How can we practice detachment, valuing those gifts, but not finding OUR value in them? It’s as easy as riding a camel through the eye of a needle, which, fortunately, is more doable than it sounds . . . when we have help: “for God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). [bctt tweet="How can we practice detachment, valuing those gifts, but not finding OUR value in them? // @kendra_tierney" username="blessedisshe__"] Let's pray for our hearts to be more like Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, our feast day celebrated today, who gave his zeal to help protect and grow the Faith. Kendra Tierney is a forty-two-year-old mother of nine and wife of one living in and working on a big old fixer-upper house in Los Angeles. She's a homeschooler and a regular schooler and is relishing the new freedom from carpooling that's come with a seventeen-year-old in the house. Her newest book, The Catholic All Year Compendium, Liturgical Living for Real Life, is here. You can find her first book, A Little Book About Confession, here, her blog here, and her word art here. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia.

I am mother to three small children. They demand my thoughts and attention. They require so much of me both mentally and physically. The season I am in is a sweet, joyful one, but it is also slow, hidden, and a blur at times. My husband and I work hard to provide for our children, putting in hours of work in the classroom, before the computer screen, painting walls, pouring over budgeting spreadsheets, and mending worn clothing. So it’s easy for me to scoff at the idea of Christ’s call in today's Gospel to "sell what you have and give it to the poor" (Matthew 19:21). I know that He is not demanding me to give all my possessions away given my vocation. My vocation is my family, the people before me. The noses I wipe, the backs I rub, the tummies I feed, the spouse who I serve and serves me. So I have to ask myself: if I cannot abandon material possessions, what am I attempting to possess and cling to that Jesus would ask me to let go of so I can follow him? What tendencies, habits, vices do I refuse to let go of? What obligations is He asking me to better fulfill? How can I be more charitable? Regardless of your station or vocation, when you come to meet Jesus, what does He ask you to release to Him? What does He require of you? Not all of us are called to abandon on material possessions, but we are all called to completely abandon our hearts to the Lord in order to follow Him. [bctt tweet="What does He require of you? // @jacquiskemp" username="blessedisshe__"] This free download of the book, Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence, offers beautiful insights into turning our hearts over to the will of the Lord. Jacqueline Skemp is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother who endures living in Minnesota after leaving California for her one true love. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

One afternoon, a patient walked into our office without an appointment with tooth pain. After telling me her symptoms, she burst into tears. Through sobs she apologized for crying and said that she has been having difficulties in her life and has been struggling with finances and personal problems. She kept trying to choke back tears and said that she had tried different offices but she was turned away because they had told her that she was an adult and adults should not cry for dental treatment. She was experiencing hardships and on top of it all, she had excruciating pain. I listened and told her, "You can cry in front of me and I am going to help you." It was as if a huge burden was taken off her shoulders. In that moment, in seeing her struggle to get the care she needed, I saw the reason I do what I do—to care and to show compassion. I could listen and provide what care was in my power. After treatment to alleviate pain, she shook my hand. In that moment, I could see how by simply listening and caring, I was honoring her humanity. Now I cannot do all the things, all the time. But I can sure do something every day and you can too. We are all in different phases and stages in life that limit what we can do. And we each have our own struggles and burdens. Still, even in our own busy lives, we can advocate for others. At minimum, we can care and we can love and we can pray. Today's Responsorial Psalm says, "Lord, come to my aid!" Let us be His hands and feet. We are called to care for the most helpless among us—the elderly, the unborn, the disabled, the refugee, the poor, the incarcerated, the exploited. It took one person advocating for Jeremiah to draw him out of cistern in today's First Reading. It takes one person to advocate. Be that person. [bctt tweet="We each have our own struggles and burdens. Still, even in our own busy lives, we can advocate for others. // @Substance_Soul" username="blessedisshe__"] Take a look at what the Catechism teaches us about helping others. Dr. Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife to Paul, mom to three little ones, and practices dentistry at a public health community center for low income families in the Bay Area, California. She (unashamedly) thinks ice cream is its own food group, loves anything Harry Potter, does not leave the house without wearing sparkly earrings, and is an enthusiastic proponent of the Oxford comma. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. Find out more about her here.

Sometimes I struggle with the fact that my faith is so childlike. I'm not great at articulating the core truths of our Catholic faith. I'm not the best at effectively explaining why it is I truly believe that the Church is the One True, Holy and Apostolic Church. And because I struggle with these things, it's easy for me to get down on myself. I wish I could articulate as strongly as I believe! And yet, today's readings remind me that it is okay to be exactly where I'm at in my faith journey with Him. Some of us are great apologists who can beautifully articulate the core truths of our faith. Others of us are little flowers in His field. And still others fall somewhere in between. All are good and enough and necessary. "As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua 24:15). And that's just it, isn't it? Whether we are exceptionally articulate or simply living each day as He desires, what matters most is that we serve Him first and always, that we turn to Him in every season, that we "decide today whom [we] will serve." In my faith journey, right here and now, I strive to be close to Him. What I have to offer Him and His kingdom on earth is the unique gift of myself. I can serve Him exactly where He has me today. My prayer is that wherever we are in our journey, we embrace where He's planted us and go out with willing and eager hearts to serve well. Without wishing or waiting or wondering if who He's created us to be is as good as someone else. We are unique, sisters. Our unique gifts are from a generous God. Let's share them today. [bctt tweet="All are good and enough and necessary. // Shalini Blubaugh" username="blessedisshe__"] This diocese calls everyone to learn more about missionary discipleship. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their gal pal, Callan, and quite large GSD pup, Sully. She enjoys all things health + fitness and pizza, because #balance. Shalini graduated from the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities, served with NET Ministries, and went on to attend Law School. She graduated with her J.D. and happily leaves all things Law behind! Some of her favorites include travel, re-connecting with old friends and making new ones, the ways in which God so beautifully brings all things full circle in His time, and a good, loud thunderstorm. Find out more about her here.

It wasn’t uncommon for my exasperated mom to cry out, “I can’t have anything nice because of you kids!” when my brothers or I broke, stained, or ruined something around our childhood home. For awhile I felt insulted by her response. We were something nice that she had—us kids!—and how could we not be more important than fragile decorations, clean carpeting, or expensive appliances?! Now that I’m a mother myself I understand, though. I, too, have been known to mutter (or cry out) the same phrase when my kids track mud through the house I just cleaned or plow toy trucks through my flower garden. In the Gospel Jesus explains to the Jews that Moses allowed divorce because of the “hardness of your hearts” “but from the beginning it was not so” (Matthew 19:8). Relationships, and especially those within a family, can be so hard and filled with such pain. I sometimes wonder if God the Father shakes His head and says, “We can’t have nice things because of you kids . . . .” But of course that’s not how God is. I have to remind myself that God is not a reflection of my personality but, rather, I should be a reflection of His. Our loving Father never shakes His head and mutters about us, instead He is patient and merciful. So many of us have experienced fractured relationships in our families, marriages, and friend circles and for any number of reasons! God wants so much for us to experience healing, even in circumstances of divorce. He arranges every opportunity for us to return to Him so He may be with us in our suffering and bring us comfort. [bctt tweet="God is not a reflection of my personality but, rather, I should be a reflection of His. // @BonnieEngstrom" username="blessedisshe__"] The Church explains her position on divorce beautifully here. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker, and homemaker. She, her husband, and seven children live in central Illinois, and her son’s alleged miraculous healing through the intercession of Venerable Fulton Sheen was submitted to the Vatican for Sheen’s beatification. Bonnie pretends she has a green thumb, bakes a fantastic chocolate chip cookie, loves naps and chai tea, and blogs. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of the Blessed Conversations Mystery: Believe study found here.

Imagine the joy of the Blessed Mother at the moment of her Assumption. There she is as a unified human being with both her body and soul brought into Heaven to stand face to face with God. The One she loves, the One for Whom she lived and breathed every moment has drawn her wholly into the communion of Heaven. Her long wait on Earth is over. Her faithfulness has been rewarded. She is with her King, her Love, her Son for eternity. We glimpse this hoped-for joy in the Gospel passage for today’s feast day when Saint Elizabeth cries out at Saint John the Baptist’s leap within her womb, "Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled" (Luke 1:45). The Blessed Mother epitomized this hope and faithfulness from the moment of the Annunciation when she accepted God’s mission for her, through the agony of her Son’s Passion, and after His Ascension during the years she lived on Earth accompanying the early Church. Only after she faithfully lived out the fullness of her life was she drawn into Heaven and made Queen of Heaven and Earth. Then perhaps these same words of joy and humility rang out in her heart as she stood before her Lord and her Love: "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant" (Luke 1:46-48). The Blessed Mother received a unique, beautiful call from the Lord, and He is also calling each and every one of us in our uniqueness. In my own life I often struggle to embrace His call to me as I fumble difficult moments of parenting, take the easy way out with homeschooling my children, and put off a writing project. Yet, when I delve into her Magnificat prayer, Our Lady’s faithfulness and joy models for me the trust I should have in God as I embrace His call to me. Her words help me believe His will for me will be fulfilled. [bctt tweet="The Blessed Mother received a unique, beautiful call from the Lord, and He is also calling each and every one of us in our uniqueness. // Susanna Spencer" username="blessedisshe__"] Today let us mediate over the words of the Magnificat. Susanna Spencer is the Theological Editor for Blessed is She who studied theology and philosophy in her earlier life. She happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul when not writing and editing. She loves beautiful liturgies, cooking delicious meals, baking amazing sweets, reading good books, raising her children, casually following baseball, and talking to her philosopher husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and Theological Editor of the Catechism Studies, the Mystery Studies, and the Works of Mercy study. You can find out more about her here.

When my husband and I were raising our four children, we were acutely aware of our responsibility to help them navigate the physical, emotional, and spiritual dangers of this life, and to set their feet firmly on the path to Heaven. Practically, it meant more than praying for them, reading parenting books, and seeking others’ advice. Daily, it involved clear directions, loving reminders, firm correction, and consistent guidance. We communicated the important stuff to them in person, not via notes, phone calls, texts, or emails. I never once recall them saying, “Who do you think you are, telling us how to behave?!” (Although they certainly may have thought it!) As members of the Herbeck family, they mostly understood correction as a necessary expression of our love for them. In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us immensely practical wisdom for how to live as part of God’s family. (See Matthew 18:15-20.) The Church calls fraternal correction a spiritual work of mercy; its aim is to bring forgiveness, healing, reconciliation, and restoration to the body of Christ. It can be difficult, awkward, frightening, embarrassing, and humbling for both the initiator and the recipient. However, we embrace this task in love because we are family, and as members of God’s household, we have a responsibility to care for and help one another get to Heaven. My temperament and family upbringing often make it hard to follow Jesus’ directive. It seems easier to avoid confrontation, diminish, or excuse the offense. So when a brother or sister in Christ sins against me, I need to ask Jesus for the courage to initiate reconciliation by going directly to that person and addressing the hurt face-to-face. I must resist the temptation to gossip, to bring it to other people’s attention, or to get others on my side. My overarching goal isn’t to be right or to vindicate myself, but to speak the truth in love. When we do this, we can help each another stay on the path that leads to Heaven. After all, isn’t that what it means to be a family? [bctt tweet="As members of God’s household, we have a responsibility to care for and help one another get to Heaven. // @bloverevolution" username="blessedisshe__"] To learn more about how to apply the works of mercy to our lives, read more about the spiritual works here. Debra Herbeck, a Jewish convert to the Church, has worked extensively in youth and women’s ministry. She has directed Pine Hills Girls Camp for the past 32 years, is the founder and Director of the Be Love Revolution, and also helps lead a ministry called i.d.916. She has written a number of books that can be found here. Debra and her husband Peter live in Ann Arbor, Michigan and are the parents of four children and five adorable grandchildren. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia.

"Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). A couple years ago while on a retreat I had a very powerful image of what my relationship with God the Father could be like. I was curled up like a child on His lap, with my head resting against His chest, and He had his arms wrapped around me. I wasn’t doing anything or striving for anything, my mind wasn’t wandering or worrying or planning or analyzing. I was just enjoying the feeling of being held by Him. This image was so strong in my mind because nearly every day I find myself holding one of my own children that way. I know what it feels like to hold a child close, to smell their hair and hear their soft rhythmic breathing, to feel their bodies get a little bit heavier when they’re totally relaxed and close to sleep. I know that to my children, I am everything they need. For me, those are some of the best moments of being a mother. I’ve been on the parental side of this image a thousand times. I’m used to being the parent, the one who meets needs and manages problems. But to see myself as the child, totally dependent, and God as my Father, totally providing, wrecked my heart and gave me a feeling of rest that I had not experienced in a very long time. This is the kind of relationship that God the Father is longing to have with each of us—one of total dependence and complete trust. Not one where we try to manage on our own without asking for help, struggling under the weight of all our cares. He wants us to crawl into His lap and be carried by him. He wants us to know Him as Father, and be known as daughter. He wants to be our everything. [bctt tweet="This is the kind of relationship that God the Father is longing to have with each of us—one of total dependence and complete trust. // Anna Coyne" username="blessedisshe__"] Saint Thérèse of Lisieux offers us guidance of living "the little way" and her series of prayers show us how to stay humble and childlike before Our Lord. Anna Coyne is a wife, mother, and convert to the Catholic Faith. She is a classically trained pianist who, after teaching for ten years now stays home with her three young children. but still manages to flex her creative muscles through writing, knitting, and gardening. She is proud to call Saint Paul home and loves everything about living in Minnesota, except for winter. You can find out more about her here.