Last year, I set out to read the Bible in one year. I took it passage by passage, book by book. And is it just me or does today’s First Reading sound much like many other passages of the Old Testament? God: Don’t do the things. People of the Old Testament: Mmmkay. Does all the things. God: I said, DON’T do the things. Prophet 1: Seriously, don’t do the things. God: I’ll give you one more chance. OT peeps: Keeps doing the things. God: UGH, STAHP. Prophet 2: He means it, you guys. OT peeps: Where is God when we need Him? God: Like I said. DON’T DO THE THINGS. Throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s chosen people continue to turn their backs on Him. They abandoned the commandments; they hardened their hearts. It continually frustrates me and I adopt this holier-than-thou attitude, Um, He says it right there; how hard can it be? Like many peoples and nations of the Old Testament, I have also turned my back on God (countless times if I’m being honest). I check off those deadly sins like I’m trying to collect them all to get a prize. I sin and sin again. I have spent seasons with a hardened heart. I’ve rejected His commandments and worse of all, I’ve rejected His perfect love. It took me years to return to Him when I refused to go to Confession, all out of pride. But in His unending mercy and unrelenting love, He allows us to come back to Him. He does not give us just one chance, but infinite chances to return to Him with our whole hearts. Whether it’s been days, weeks, or years, I invite you to go to Him this Lenten season and confess your sins. He is waiting for your sad, reluctant, wounded, heavy heart with open arms. [bctt tweet="He is waiting for your sad, reluctant, wounded, heavy heart with open arms." username="Substance_Soul"] This priest examines the rules of the Old Testament in contrast to the New. 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. Find out more about her here.

A question for us to contemplate this Lenten season: Who do we think Jesus is? This question challenges because it is so easy to treat Jesus as someone we construct ourselves. We want to put together tight marketing strategies of a sort, make Jesus appealing, relevant, but also friendly, and "nice." It's easy to do. It's easy to create a Jesus Who becomes for us a personal reflection of how we see religion and Christianity fitting neatly into our lives and our world. We may give our created Jesus our political leanings, our personal preferences, our ways of relating to others, even. A comfortable, moral, lowercase-g god who wants us to avoid confrontation, to fit in, to make opposite perspectives intermingle in harmony. And why not create our own image of Jesus? Because Jesus was a historic, real, human person. Because we have the Gospels to tell us what Jesus really did and said. We have to make a choice between a Jesus we create ourselves and the Jesus of history and the Gospels. A Jesus Who was God incarnate, Who felt human emotions, Who walked the earth of Israel, Who was Jewish. Jesus not only knew the laws of Judaism inside and out, conversing with rabbis when only a child, but it was the very air He breathed. It was His culture and imbued every aspect of life in that time and place. This fact has played a foundational role in the teachings and traditions of our Faith, always understanding how significant Jewish morality and tradition impacted the context of what Jesus said and did. Christ's words in today's Gospel tell us that He did not come to earth to simply create a new religion out of thin air; He came to fulfill the promises God made to the Jewish people. We cannot separate Jesus from His historic existence and His existence as a Jewish man. Let’s examine the ways we change Who Jesus is in our minds—do they need a correction? Instead of settling for creating a savior we mistakenly think we want, let’s pray for the grace to mold our hearts to the Savior Who walked the earth over 2000 years ago. [bctt tweet="Instead of settling for creating a savior we mistakenly think we want, let’s pray for the grace to mold our hearts to the Savior Who walked the earth over 2000 years ago." username="christyisinger"] Have you read about covenant theology by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI? This article discusses 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.

Lately my basketball-loving son has been watching training videos featuring Stephen Curry, the star of the Golden State Warriors. In these videos, Curry offers tips for sinking the baskets he makes look so effortless. At one point he talks about how as a teenager, he had to do thousands of repetitions before he internalized a new, better form for shooting a basket. I like that message: Even the greatest have to work hard to do the hard thing. And forgiveness is about as hard as it gets. I think it’s the most challenging thing we Christians are called to do. It’s the extreme sport of the spiritual life. It’s fair to say that most of us won’t be able to forgive the really big things right out of the gate. The deep wounds, the moments when we’ve been victimized by others’ sins—it usually takes time to work up to forgiving those. But forgiveness is something we can choose to make a habit. Just as Curry trained himself into a new shooting form, we can train ourselves to have a more forgiving mindset by practicing on the small things. We can let it go when the driver cuts us off, or when the customer is rude for no reason. We can acknowledge our anger, take a deep breath, and then think: I forgive you and I bless you. A forgiveness muscle; that’s something that repetition can make stronger. True, it’s never going to be easy to forgive some things. But if we recognize God as the best kind of coach, we’ll be motivated to keep trying. God isn’t the coach belittling us for our mistakes. He’s the One Who knows what we’re capable of, Who recognizes the effort we’re making, and Who encourages us when we don’t get it right. He’s the kind of coach we want to please, because we know He’s got our own best interests at heart. Seventy-seven times. Thousands of times. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it. [bctt tweet="Seventy-seven times. Thousands of times. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it." username="blessedisshe__"] Did you see this series on "Sacramental Forgiveness"? It's well-worth the click&scroll. 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.

The day I found out I was pregnant with our fourth child was a hard one. See, my pregnancy with number three was one of the darkest times of my life; I had to be hospitalized for perinatal anxiety, and I was unsure that I would mentally be able to handle any more children because of that. So, when that fourth test turned positive, I panicked. This wasn’t in my plan, but God had announced His loud and clear. Looking back on that day, I can see what God had in store for my life. He knew that I was fearful of another difficult pregnancy, yet He showed me that each pregnancy is different. He can make all things new. I try to imagine what that day would have been like if I would have framed our gift of new life as a small annunciation—news from God that would eventually change my world for the better. As always, Mary in today’s Gospel is a perfect example of this type of obedience. At the arrival of Gabriel, Mary takes a moment to be troubled but then begins to ponder what might be happening. She receives the news and has questions. After hearing the angel’s answer, she submits to the Lord willingly. Mary was not dumb; she knew that saying “yes” would be a total upheaval of her life’s plans. Yet she trusted that God would take her trust and turn it into something beautiful. Whether it be as big as a layoff or as small as a traffic jam, may we all view the pivotal moments in our daily lives as Mary did: as opportunities for God to grow within us, shower us with His grace, and change our lives for the better. Every moment we can choose to say "yes" to our own little annunciations. [bctt tweet="Every moment we can choose to say 'yes' to our own little annunciations." username="callherhappy"] Pope Saint John Paul II wrote an entire encyclical on the Blessed Virgin Mary called "Redemptoris Mater." Read it for free here. Jenna Hines has a teeny army of four children and is married to a bearded fellow named Mike. They are a homeschooling family who just moved out to the country. Find her books and illustrations in her shop. You can find out more about her here.

Have you ever felt uncertain about something you sensed God was calling you to do? Maybe it was to have a difficult conversation with a coworker or family member. Or perhaps it was responding in trust to a path God was laying out in front of you. Maybe it was trying be still and hear the voice of the Spirit in discernment over a new career or relationship to pursue. Throughout Exodus, you see the humanity of Moses play out in the vibrant story of God intervening in the lives and history of the Israelites. Moses often doubted his own abilities and was not a great public speaker. I imagine he felt uncertain, and perhaps at times worried about what others would think of him. I imagine he struggled with insecurities many of us have known at one time or another. In many ways, each of us is really not that different than Moses. The First Reading is a reminder to me that sometimes when we personally experience God active and moving in our lives, He calls us to things we may not outright understand or feel a little uncertain about. We may not see how God's plan will play out in time, just like Moses. The point is not to have everything figured out from the beginning, but lean into the Spirit with expectant faith and trust you are responding to the will of God as best as you know how. [bctt tweet="Lean into the Spirit with expectant faith and trust you are responding to the will of God as best as you know how." username="amoderngrace"] The depth and breadth of the voices singing out, "Go down, Moses" in this arrangement will make your day. Patty Breen is a full-time lay minister who finds joy in running, strong cups of coffee, and all things Ignatian spirituality. A Midwestern gal from the mitten state, she is constantly learning to find grace in all things. She is passionate about ministry, writing, a great lipstick color, and smiling is her favorite. Find out more about her here.

I love how today's readings fall on a Saturday because this is the of the week day I frequent Confession. And the parable about the prodigal son—the one who comes home after having squandered all his father had given him, confesses this to his father, and is welcomed with compassion, love and rejoicing? I couldn't love this more. There have been times I didn't want to go to Confession. Because confronting my sins and speaking them aloud felt shameful and embarrassing. Because I was afraid of what the priest might say in response to what I said. Because it was uncomfortable and I just didn't want to do it. What's helped me, though, to overcome these thoughts and feelings and fears, has been to think more about Jesus in the confessional than about the person who is the priest acting in His place. I think of the father in this story of the prodigal son: this father who is filled with compassion, who embraces his son and kisses him. God does the same when we enter into that confessional. He desires to grant us forgiveness so profoundly. God wants our nearness and for us to want to be near Him. When we go to Confession, we're getting closer to Him and we're showing Him that we want that too. So I cry in the confessional—because I'm still ashamed, because I'm still embarrassed—and I know I'm not the only one crying in there; God is too, but His are happy tears. [bctt tweet="God wants our nearness and for us to want to be near Him." username="praymorenovenas"] This painting of the return of the lost son is striking in its vivid colors and emotional figures. Annie Deddens is a writer and producer. She runs a prayer ministry with her husband, called Pray More Novenas. She has a heart for the sick & suffering, and she writes about living with greater faith (hope & love, too) in this imperfect world as a Catholic wife. You can find out more about her here.

“Dang, she has great . . . That girl is the master at . . . I hate her.” I see one thing I think I want: a {more} beautiful house, great baking skills, better fitness. She has all of it. She has even what I didn’t know I wanted, but now I want it, and I like her all the less for it. Envy, thou art a foul beast. You turn me into a cold, coveting, ungrateful woman. I assume that because she has that particular gift, I'm lacking. Instead of thanking God for my individual gifts, and using them, envy twists my sight and hardens my heart. Suddenly my own identity is warped by comparison, disregard for the beauty of God’s gifts to her and to me, and disdain. I find myself paralyzed by envy, which looks like fear and feelings of unworthiness. Those feelings are evident when I catch myself saying in my head, oh, you shouldn’t try to write that book; she already wrote something like it, or you’re not a real artist because you use fonts and don’t hand-letter or watercolor paint your own designs, or you’ll make a fool out of yourself if you try to make the new woman feel at home. She’ll laugh at you or feel patronized by your attempts at friendship. I think I know what it might have been like to be Joseph’s brothers, to feel less-than, unloved, dull, gift-less. To let those feelings cloud my mind, lose sight of the Father’s love, and diminish my unique gifts. Joseph’s brothers hated him so much they faked his death and sold him into slavery. They hated how he was loved; they hated his gifts; and they couldn’t see past that ugly hate to know their own gifts and the truest love of the Father. Envy and hate are straight from Hell. Satan does not want us to know God’s love, to recognize His unique gifts to each one of us, to praise Him for our own gifts and the gifts of our sisters. I want to fight back. Instead of envy, I will pray for the Spirit to increase my experience of the Father’s incredible love for me and for you, my sisters in faith. I want to recognize Him, and to appreciate the gifts we each have to share. [bctt tweet="Instead of envy, I will pray for the Spirit to increase my experience of the Father’s incredible love for me and for you, my sisters in faith." username="blessedisshe__"] Take a look at what the Summa has to say about the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. Gina Fensterer is a Colorado native at heart, but the West Coast beach life suits her just fine. She currently lives in small coastal area of California with her husband and six children. She loves the Jesus prayer, coffee at any time of day, homemade salsa, photography, and sleepy toddler snuggles. You can find out more about her here.

The parable of the rich man and Lazarus in today's Gospel would often make me give myself a prideful pat on the back. I would never nonchalantly ignore a poor man lying in front of my house while he suffered. I read that parable with a certain comfortability. My heart aches for the poor and the suffering, therefore, praise God, I am nothing like the rich man. Then one day the Lord humbled me with an image. As I read this Gospel reading, I perceived the suffering Jesus, waiting for me to go to Him. However, I walked past Him repeatedly and went about my day, doing all the things that seemed more important than my relationship with Him. Jesus was my Lazarus. There are times when I am exactly like the rich man. Precious sisters, I would venture to say that there are times when we are all like the rich man. We give Jesus the scraps of our hearts, afraid of what would happen if we gave Him our whole self in all our brokenness. We know that Jesus suffered, and died, and rose again to save us, yet still we question His great love for us. Sisters, still we question whether He can heal us, restore us, hold us when we are hurting, and find us when we are lost. "If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead" (Luke 16:31). Let us allow the Holy Spirit to pour out upon us and strengthen us in faith to proclaim that yes, Jesus loves us and our intimacy with Him will be the center of everything we do, for nothing is insignificant in the kingdom of God. [bctt tweet="Let us allow the Holy Spirit to pour out upon us and strengthen us in faith to proclaim that yes, Jesus loves us and our intimacy with Him will be the center of everything we do, for nothing is insignificant in the kingdom of God." username="blessedisshe__"] This hymn composed by Saint Thomas Aquinas is often sung at Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Let us thank God for opening Heaven's gates as the lyrics proclaim! Leana Bowler lives in Arizona with her husband, five children, feisty grandma, and three dogs. She love Jesus, writing jokes, books, strong coffee, and drawing upgraded stick figure people. You can find out more about her here.

Do you know what you want? Do you know what you really want for yourself, your loved ones, and for your life? And are you asking God for that? Recently I've noticed that there is a part of me that sometimes denies or minimizes what I truly want for myself. As a life coach who helps women identify and achieve what they truly want for their lives, and as one who has received a lot of coaching myself, I know that sometimes it can be difficult to answer this question with honesty and with the courageous faith that what I want can be possible. The mother in today's Gospel knows what she wants, and she asks Jesus for it. She wants her two sons to go to Heaven and to sit on the right and left of Jesus in His Kingdom. I love her boldness. She tells Jesus her prayer without fear of disapproval and without concern of what others might think. Her sons have a similar boldness too. Jesus challenges them by responding, "You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?" They respond with confidence, "We can" (Matthew 20:22). I think that Jesus appreciates boldness, courage, and confidence from us in our prayer. Perhaps it can even be a form of trust in Him and a way to surrender to His power that He really can do all things and can do anything for us. God does not always answer our prayers as we expect. Perhaps sometimes we truly do not know what we are asking. At other times, perhaps God wants some deeper sacrifice or service or greater love from us in order for our prayer to be answered. I hope that you can take courage and confidence from the sons of Zebedee and their mother today to boldly ask God for what it is you truly want and to be willing to do what is necessary—in service and in giving your life—for God to bring about that goodness in your life! [bctt tweet="Jesus appreciates boldness, courage, and confidence from us in our prayer." username="blessedisshe__"] Angels worship at the throne of God. Learn more about them here today. Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time writing, making music and learning about life from her experiences of learning to surf. As a life coach, she supports women to discover who they truly are and how to design their life using their gifts and talents to live fully alive as the person God has created them to be. You can find out more about her here.

Today, on the Solemnity of Saint Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary, I sit in awe of of this man's faith and trust in God's plan and provision. "Through the righteousness that comes from faith," Saint Joseph walked with Mary through what would have been so drastically surreal on so many levels. (See Romans 4:13.) His wife-to-be was pregnant with the Son of God. He was assured by an angel of the Lord in a dream to "not be afraid . . ." (Matthew 1:20). What would people think if he stayed with this woman? What would people say when they found out that his wife-to-be was pregnant with the Son of God? Saint Joseph, in the midst of such uncertainty, clung to his faith and the words that were spoken to him by the Lord. Much of the time, I am too quick to question the circumstances of my life and too slow to believe what the Lord has spoken to me. "Blessed is she who believed that what was spoken to her by the Lord would be fulfilled" (Luke 1:45). When life doesn't make sense, or situations arise that are difficult or cause me pain, I—far too often—question before I believe. And yet, I want to believe. I want to believe as Saint Joseph did. I want to be a woman that believes wholeheartedly in the words spoken to me by the Lord. And so I take things one day at a time and cultivate the faith I so long to have. I take each trial, each struggle, each uncertain situation in my life, and choose faith over fear. I choose to believe in His words and promises although the way ahead may not be clear. I believe that although I may be in a season of uncertainty or trial, He knows all. He leads the way. He promises to be near to me, to take care of me, to guide my every step, and to provide a place of refuge and rest in the midst of the unknown. Saint Joseph, pray for us. May we have fearless faith like you! [bctt tweet="Saint Joseph, pray for us. May we have fearless faith like you!" username="blessedisshe__"] Have you read much about Saint Joseph's life? Take a look at these details. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their brand new gal pal, Callan, and quite large GSD pup, Sully. She is a health coach and loves 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.

As we begin our journey through Lent we should be examining our habits of sin (we all have them!) and begin lamenting those sins just as Daniel laments in today's poetic First Reading. (See Daniel 9:4-10.) I know I try not to spend a lot of time thinking about my sins. But something that's helped is beginning the habit of Ignatian reflection at the end of the day, to use the Examen to notice where my greatest failures and God's greatest gifts were in every day. But if I'm honest, I skim over my sins fairly quickly. Usually if I'm being even more honest, I go over my sins as quickly as possible because I don't think they were that big a deal, or conversely, I don't want to dwell on the hurt I've caused others. But all the small sins of my day, the inner sins of judgement, ill-will, the outer sins of unkind words, rash anger, or lack of charity to those closest to me are evidence of my departing from God's will and rebelling against His commandments. These sins may seem small, they may happen in an instant, they may leave no visible damage or injury, but they deserve lament. If we begin to see and treat our sins as they really are, serious departures from our relationship with God and His will for us, then we can appreciate and understand all the more what Christ calls and gives us in today's Gospel. He calls us to to be as merciful and as perfect as our Heavenly Father is. God's compassion is so great that He continues to forgive us for the many times we fail to live up to His commands, not because our sins are small but because with each one we move farther away from Him, and that is of monumental importance. This type of forgiveness can only come from the Divine, and we can only live and offer it to others if we ourselves are living fully in God's grace. Let us live this today, sisters! [bctt tweet="He calls us to to be as merciful and as perfect as our Heavenly Father is." username="christyisinger"] This free online version of Saint Augustine's "Confessions" is a great read. 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.

"Wait for the LORD with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD" (Psalm 27:14). Last month I waited on a cold ultrasound exam room table. I waited under a thin blanket over a thin open-in-the-front gown. My breath waited to be caught as the ultrasound tech ran the wand over my armpit, the cold wand up&down, left&right. The mammogram had already happened. After she finished and took the results to the radiologist, I ran through every possibility, every permutation of disease for lumps. My waiting eyes closed for the tears. What I had neglected, and maybe we mostly do, was to wait for the Lord. Look for Him. Seek His will in all things, even this lumpy lump and cold waiting table. My waiting centered around my fears come true. My waiting was a closed circle of private pain. Our Lord will enter into that pain with us, sisters. He waits to be invited in before radiating transforming love into our hearts. While His plan unfolds in the dark of our imaginations or the creases of our palms, courage guides our fears to simply rest in Him. I always thought I should white-knuckle it through the scary parts of my life to prove to God I was a good daughter. Like I could pass the test of the uncertain with fortitude and resolve. Now I know He wants to be with me along the suffering road. He wants to be with you, too. The tech returned after a long while and told me I was fine and could go. I left in a bit of an emotional hangover and uttered prayers of gratitude all the way through the parking ramp. I felt more stouthearted for the next valley of unknown, and maybe like waiting meant waiting with the Lord. [bctt tweet="I know He wants to be with me along the suffering road. He wants to be with you, too." username="wholeparenting"] Here's a Saint who said she lived without courage, but we all know she did. Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer turned blogger, speaker, and sewer of baby goods while tending to her husband and four kiddos in the great city of Saint Paul, Minnesota. She serves as Managing Editor for Blessed is She and can down a hot cocoa in no time flat. Find out more about her here. She is the editor of our Blessed Conversations Series and guide for the Gift of You course.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was at my church in line for confession. While I awaited my turn I went through my mental list of things I wanted to bring up and let out a sigh. Wasn’t I just here, confessing these exact same sins? The answer is, yes. There are certain sins that I struggle with, and no matter how many times I bring them up in the confessional, I just keep struggling with them. I wondered if there was any point in even mentioning these things, since I would probably just go home and struggle with them again. When my turn came I went into the confessional, knelt down, confessed my all-too-familiar sins, and then waited for the priest’s response. This is what he said to me: Keep on fighting. Jesus’ standard of holiness is high, we see that in today’s Gospel reading. "You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment. But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother, will be liable to judgment" (Matthew 5:21-22). But the First Reading and the Psalm show that His mercy is boundless. "If the wicked man turns away from all the sins he committed, if he keeps all my statutes and does what is right and just, he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of the crimes he committed shall be remembered against him" (Ezra 18:21-22). "If you, O LORD, mark iniquities, LORD, who can stand? But with you is forgiveness, that you may be revered" (Psalm 103:3-4). The battle against sin is real, it is unending, and it is worth fighting. And thankfully, we don’t need to fight it alone. When my priest lifted his hands in that confessional to give me absolution, I received the mercy of God, and the strength to keep on fighting. May you feel that encouragement, too, when you go to Confession this Lent, sister. We don't need to fight our sins alone. [bctt tweet="The battle against sin is real, it is unending, and it is worth fighting. And thankfully, we don’t need to fight it alone." username="blessedisshe__"] For an in-depth look at the Sacrament of Penance, see what the Catholic encyclopedia has to say about it. 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.

I’ve come to expect that my Lent will never end up quite the way I envisioned it. One year that I felt especially convicted about Lenten fasting and giving up all sweets and junk food, I ended up pregnant and super sick and the only things I could imagine eating were on my banned list. My cousin once gave up yelling for Lent, then broke both her legs and couldn’t get upstairs in their house. Circumstances change. Sometimes we need to be flexible. I think it’s a good practice, when choosing Lenten disciplines, to weigh my current need for active versus passive mortifications. Things like being pregnant or postpartum, recovering from injury or sickness, dealing with chronic illness, particular job or family stresses, are all passive mortifications. They give us the opportunity to offer that suffering, as it comes, to God. They give us the opportunity to not just grudgingly get through the day, but to really embrace our suffering, and recognize it as something that can help us grow in holiness. It’s about seeing ourselves accompanying Jesus into the desert, and along the Way of the Cross, so that we can triumph with Him on Easter morning. When facing passive mortifications, my focus is on joyfully accepting them, and on adding in good practices, like extra prayer time, or particular devotions like the Rosary or the Stations of the Cross. In times of life when I’m not faced with passive mortifications, I use Lent to seek out active ones. Those are the years I mindfully practice detachment from some of the comforts in my life. Things that are not sinful in themselves can be sinful for us once we start believing them to be essential, and when we form attachments to them. They can be sinful for us when we start choosing lesser things for ourselves out of habit or laziness. When we start giving OURSELVES stones and snakes instead of bread and fish. Lent is the perfect time to try out better attachments, resignation to passive mortifications or choosing active mortifications, and see if at the end of these six weeks, we are improved. One week down, five to go. It’s a good time to make sure I’ve planned the Lent I need. [bctt tweet="Lent is the perfect time to try out better attachments, resignation to passive mortifications or choosing active mortifications, and see if at the end of these six weeks, we are improved." username="kendra_tierney"] Ever listened to the Rosary prayed aloud? Maybe add this in between your favorite podcasts. 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 sixteen-year-old in the house. Her new 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.

I click on my right turn signal as my phone map instructs me to turn right at the next street. I feel a bit turned around, but surely the directions must be correct. Driving down the side street, I scan the surroundings for the next turn that has to be around somewhere. Pulling off to the side, I zoom into the map on my screen to see that the road I’m looking for doesn’t even connect to the one I’m on. And here I sit, irritated with a piece of technology in which I’ve so easily placed my trust. How quick I am to not give a second thought to trusting gadgets and yet often it is with skepticism that I approach the harkening of the Holy Spirit. For those in the city of Nineveh, it took only one day to hear the words of Jonah, trust he spoke the truth, and stop their evil ways. As the mouthpiece of God, Jonah relayed the destruction God would impose on their city within forty days. (See Jonah 3:1-10.) Then without a second thought, they stopped, dropped what they were doing, and repented. Here we are living thousands of years after this and we even have Jesus, sent by God to redeem us, offering us daily grace through the Sacraments. The Church He established is full of signs all calling us back to repentance and unity. We have access to the Holy Spirit Who gives us the gift of discernment so our eyes can be open to the calling to holiness in the everyday. Today as we delve into the Season of Lent, open your eyes and ears to Jesus calling you back to Himself. Remember to boldly approach the throne of mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Rest in gratitude for the life-giving Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Savior received into our very bodies. You have forty whole days. The fast has been declared, and the signs are there. Take advantage of these days and let them transform you. [bctt tweet="You have forty whole days. The fast has been declared, and the signs are there. Take advantage of these days and let them transform you." username="blessedisshe__"] Pray this simple prayer to the Holy Spirit and invite Him into your heart today. 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.

Right about now we are praying for the snow to melt and the rain to stop. We have endured a harsh winter that has some us still vibrating from snowblowers and all of us longing for spring. Lent has arrived, but it has felt like an endless winter desert covered the earth long before Ash Wednesday. As I reflect on the words of the First Reading (Isaiah 55:10-11), I'm reminded of how God has been flooding my soul this winter. Winter is one of the hardest seasons of the year for me. From the start I’m hit with anniversaries of loved ones who left this earth too soon. Single ladies, we have survived Valentine's Day without someone by our side as we watch newly-engaged friends prepare for their upcoming Sacraments. My heart can become as frigid as the horizon blanketed in white or I can choose to allow God’s love to melt my icy heart. I’m often unaware of the sower sowing seeds of longing and fail to see the various forms of water nurturing my infertile soul. Nothing God allows in life is void of purpose, including the cold, dark, and often aching moments a seed spends under of the ground preparing to break through the earth and feel the sun pierce its skin. Whatever you are longing for from the Lord—a spouse, a child, healing, a job, acceptance to grad school, your child returning to the Church, or a breakthrough—God will not allow that longing to lay dormant. So, cry out to God; give Him your broken heart and trust His will. Allow Christ’s Sacred Heart to absorb the tears you shed this Lent and await the new life He promises in the Easter season waiting to break through. [bctt tweet="Allow Christ’s Sacred Heart to absorb the tears you shed this Lent and await the new life He promises in the Easter season waiting to break through." username="SoCalTriciaT"] Meditate on these Scriptures today: Matthew 6:8, Psalm 34:16-19. 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.

Last summer I learned firsthand the reality of Christ’s presence to those who suffer when I came down with Lyme disease. It attacked the joints in my right leg so I could not walk without excruciating pain. I could barely make it to the toilet, and would sit helpless in the bathtub while my husband ran the water. All of my meals were brought to me on a tray, and our friends delivered many dinners. I even received the great grace of a home visit by my pastor who offered me Holy Eucharist and Anointing of the Sick. The reality is that illnesses are extremely isolating even when one receives constant care from others. There were days the loneliness bore in upon me as I spent another long day on the couch, not able to move, just waiting to get well. This is why Christ tells us that when we visit the sick that we are visiting Him. (See Matthew 25:35-40.) For it is in our darkest moments, our deepest sufferings, our times of hunger, both physical and spiritual, that Christ dwells in us. He knows most fully what we experience. He was there first in His physical suffering of His Passion and Death on the Cross and in the deep isolating loneliness of Holy Saturday as He descended into Hell. He waits for us there. He meets us there to resurrect us, to redeem us, as He uses our suffering to make us one with Him. These hard sufferings, too, will pass. If this is how we understand suffering, then we should want to run to those in pain, those who hunger, those who are in need. When we go to comfort those who suffer we find Him, our Lord, Who suffered for us. When we stand at the foot of our neighbor’s cross, we stand at the Foot of His and hear Him say, “Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). And when we go to them they receive Christ in us. [bctt tweet="He meets us there to resurrect us, to redeem us, as He uses our suffering to make us one with Him." username="blessedisshe__"] This Lent, let's ponder, alongside this saintly man, being at the foot of the Cross and Christ's seven last words. 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. You can find out more about her here. She is the Theological Editor of both the Catechism Studies and the Mystery Studies.