The wind is howling outside, bitter and well below-zero. The house creaks now and then against the strong gusts that rush to batter its walls. They threaten to sneak in the cracks and bring their terrible chill into our somewhat geriatric little house. It is a frigid, starless winter night in Minnesota. But my newlywed husband and I are tucked in tight. He is submerged next to me beneath a pile of blankets, producing a great deal of “man-heat,” snoring softly while I write. Our pups are curled up at our feet. The chill cannot reach us here snug in our bed and the sweetness of this moment is not lost on me. It rests on me softly and brings tremendous comfort. And it reminds me with renewed wonder of God’s incredibly tenderhearted mercy. (See today's Responsorial Psalm refrain: "Let your hearts take comfort, all who hope in the Lord.") In my first, very brief, very troubled marriage, there were no moments like this. The pain of that experience was so brutal, I thought at times it might stop my heart. Years later, even after the Church in her wisdom would grant a declaration of nullity, I never imagined I would ever remarry. But my God is a God of wondrous mercy, His goodness is great, He hears my every pleading, and the older I get, the more I understand that if I will just wait on Him, trust in Him, He can heal anything. Anything. It is His nature to restore, and not only restore, but to bless, to shower His favor down upon His children beyond anything we can imagine. So I say with confidence to you, my sister: He hears you. Hope in Him. And if that seems too much to ask, that’s okay. I promise that I will hope on your behalf. [bctt tweet="He hears you. Hope in Him. And if that seems too much to ask, that’s okay. I promise that I will hope on your behalf." username="blessedisshe__"] The Salve Regina marian hymn of mercy is an option to be sung after Compline. Want to hear a beautiful rendition? Liz Kelly is a jazz singer who fell in love with Jesus. She writes, teaches, offers spiritual direction and retreats with a special interest in helping women to flourish in their faith. She’s written six books, including the award-winning Jesus Approaches and the Jesus Approaches Study Supplement. And she still sings jazz, but mainly in the tub and while washing dishes. Find out more about her here.

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you." (Jeremiah 1:4-5) The first time I remember reading this verse was when I was in college studying at the Newman Center where I lived. This verse was printed on a pro-life sign that hung on the wall in the study lounge. It depicted an unborn baby resting in God's hand. It seemed to stand as a reminder to me that every life, "is not governed by chance; it is not random," and that, "your existence (my existence) has been willed by God, blessed and given a purpose!" (Pope Benedict XVI) I've always liked that: how God's words through Jeremiah comforted me and made me feel chosen—not like an after-thought at all, but more like the precisely thought-out stroke of a brush on a masterpiece painting. Or like I can rest in God's hands like that unborn baby in the pro-life sign. What's interesting, though, is the context of this verse. If we dig a little deeper into it, we learn that God's message here was not just for one singular person, but for a large group of people: the Israelites. Furthermore, He's not just telling them they're going to be okay (though He is saying that), but He's also telling them that it'll be a while before everything is brought to restoration and to redemption. They had to wait seventy years for that. Knowing this background has changed things for me when I see or hear this verse. These words now carry for me a message of hope—that I certainly can rest in God's hand, but that His plan for me might not look like what I expected . . . and that even then, He will still bring about restoration and redemption as the Father Who loves me. [bctt tweet="I certainly can rest in God's hand, but that His plan for me might not look like what I expected." username="praymorenovenas"] Read more here about what respect for human life means in a broader and deeper sense. 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.

Today is the feast of the Presentation of the Lord, which always makes me think of the Sacrament of Baptism. When I read about Jesus' Presentation, memories of my children’s Baptisms fill my heart. Memories of the sweet smell of the chrism, the light of the candle, the words spoken. Bringing a child for Baptism is a time of pride and joy. For so many years, I focused only on my own child (or Godchild) at their Baptism. It didn’t occur to me to think of the others present. Now I love to watch the guests at Baptisms. I love to wonder at their stories, at how the Holy Spirit is working in their hearts as they witness these precious moments. Those stories, like Simeon’s and Anna’s, matter just as much as the infant’s story. (See Luke 2:25, 2:36.) Imagine Anna with me, sisters. Her short story is changing me. A widow who spent long years at the temple, Anna was a prophetess who likely had seen enough to have her faith tested. Yet she faithfully worshipped the Lord. She persevered in her prayer and experienced witnessing God Himself. Her faithfulness in the simple, daily ritual allowed her the greatest joy to see the face of the Christ Child. Anna saw this baby and knew. She knew God. And then she immediately gave thanks and told others about the child. I’m deeply moved by Anna’s steadfastness and joy! I have a large family to care for, so I can’t pray and fast all day like Anna, but I can remain faithful to my duties and give thanks to God in all things. Each day, I’m trying to open my eyes and heart more to the movements of the Holy Spirit, so that like Anna, I can see God. Even more than that, I hope and pray to have the holy courage Anna did, to be outspokenly grateful about the Lord’s gifts. [bctt tweet="Each day, I’m trying to open my eyes and heart more to the movements of the Holy Spirit, so that like Anna, I can see God." username="blessedisshe__"] View a gorgeous depiction by Fra Angelico of the Presentation. 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.

I had a Sunday Catholic childhood. I had a fallen away Catholic late teens/early twenties. But by my thirties, Catholic had become the defining characteristic of my life, personally and professionally. What set my foot upon this path wasn’t theological treatises or detailed explanations of doctrine. For me . . . it was stories and conversations. What drew me into a deeper understanding of and appreciation for my Catholic faith was J.R.R. Tolkien and Sigrid Undset, blog posts about hospitality and moms at our homeschool parkday who didn’t know how many kids they were going to have. These stories and conversations that imparted Catholic Truth, but in a way that was comfortable and accessible, remind me of what we read about Jesus in today’s Gospel. “With many such parables he spoke the word to them as they were able to understand it. Without parables he did not speak to them, but to his own disciples he explained everything in private.” (Mark 4:34) Just as Middle Earth and medieval Norway and party planning tips and jokes about NFP gave me that yearning to discover more about the Catholic faith and life, Jesus’ stories of commonplace things and places, like vineyards, seeds, and wedding banquets, allowed His followers to connect His messages to their own life experience. Even to skeptics, parables gave Jesus’ words a more conversational feel which must have been less intimidating than laying a bunch of straight-up doctrine on people. Now, as then, God speaks to us through stories, through our experiences, and the people around us. After drawing them in with parables, Jesus called His disciples to private conversation with Him, in which He explained everything. How beautiful is that? Even now, in the privacy of personal prayer, we can seek those same revelations. [bctt tweet="Now, as then, God speaks to us through stories, and through our experiences and the people around us." username="kendra_tierney"] See a deeper discussion into the "why" behind the parables in the Catechism. 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.

It was a briskly cold morning of a whopping 8 degrees above zero. I girded what I could feel of my loins, loaded the van with an extra large coffee maker, rolls, caramel sauce, and cream, and drove to church. Once a month, my Blessed Conversations group gets together at our parish and we walk through our study together. But first we slide into the creaky pews of early Saturday morning Mass, a Mass with Gregorian Chant and incense, Latin, and a super-short sermon. Then we head over to the parish hall for coffee, something homemade, and sisterhood. And yet every month, I'm disheartened beforehand. "Why do I offer to lead these things? I have nothing to offer." My husband nods while flipping eggs, pancakes, the toddler. He's heard it before. "Just go and open the space for the Holy Spirit, lovie." And so I do. It's always more than worth the frostbit fingers and that one time I wore my dress inside out and discovered mid-talking from the podium. Jesus said to them, “Is a lamp brought in to be placed under a bushel basket or under a bed, and not to be placed on a lampstand?" (Mark 4:21) I don't know what your lamp is, sister. Maybe it's journeying with families of the kids you teach. Maybe it's listening to your teens and sorting out their drama and college applications. Maybe it's building friendships in the dorms. I do know your lamp needs tending. Your wick needs a trim and that oil needs a refill. And we cannot fully service it ourselves. I'm gonna ask Our Lord to help with mine so I can keep blazing for Him. It's all about Him. It always has been. [bctt tweet="It's all about Him. It always has been." username="WholeParenting"] Feeling called to go further along in your faith journey along with one sister or many? See what our writers have written for you in the Blessed Conversations series. 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 Series.

Does today’s Gospel overwhelm you? It has long intimidated me. But today as Jesus addresses His questioning disciples, I imagine something new: a path lined with His children, faces upturned as He stops in front of each one, cradling a handful of seeds. “This one’s for you,” He whispers, tenderly planting the seed in the center of each heart. “It’s the Word of God . . . cultivate it well.” The Word of God—Christ Himself! And yet, this seed is so fragile and small in the midst of a harsh and hazardous world. How easy it is to be carried off on the wings of worldly intrigue, consumed by vapid imitations of truth and beauty and goodness. How quickly we allow the searing rays of tribulation and suffering to scorch our once-joyful hearts, rendering them barren wastelands of derision and doubt. How affably we’re lured away from eternal riches by the prospect of temporary riches and fleeting pleasure; how swiftly we let our confidence and trust in God’s Providence be choked by seductive lies of anxiety and fear. Indeed, today’s parable boils down to one word: trust. Sticking it out for the sake of the Kingdom, persevering in protecting our little potential-filled seeds when the going gets tough—these hinge directly on how trustworthy we think God’s promises are. Trust, by definition, is a “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.” (source) Not ironically, these same characteristics describe our God. Reliable. True. Able. Strong. Do we trust that God wants to give us more than we want to give ourselves? Do we trust that what God wants for us is better than what we want for ourselves? Or have we judged it safer to rely on ourselves and the world’s “wisdom,” weakened as we are by its folly and desert of empty promises? Sisters, He is indeed trustworthy. And our every heroic act of trust tills fertile new ground. Every acknowledgement of temptation invites Him to draw alongside us with divine strength and assistance. And every effort to protect the seed of His truth cultivates the abundant harvest within—thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold. [bctt tweet="Every effort to protect the seed of His truth cultivates the abundant harvest within." username="PosImperfect"] Have you heard of the Saint Bridget prayers? They honor Jesus' wounds and provide an opportunity to lean on Him in trust. Find out her unusual background here. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. She is the Stories Manager for the Blessed is She Instagram account. She’s a bibliophile, tea drinker, sleep lover, and avid admirer of Colorado’s great outdoors. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.

Can you imagine what it must have been like for the people of Israel, what a bloodied and stench-filled event the atonement for their sins must have been? Every year on the Day of Atonement the people were required to offer animal sacrifices for their sins, with full knowledge that it would never be enough. Their sin still remained; year after year they would be back offering sacrifices. Then the Messiah came. He abolished the need for animal sacrifices with His One Perfect Sacrifice. But the newly-formed Christians had a hard time leaving their old practices behind. Maybe it was guilt, or a lack of trust, or maybe just a feeling that they needed to DO something. I can relate to that feeling. I like to get things done, to check things off my list, even in my faith life. Go to Mass on Sundays, check. Love my neighbor, check. Weekly holy hour, check. Giving to those in need, check. The more things I check off my list, the more I feel like I’m winning at this Christian life. But at the end the day, when I examine my conscience and look back on the things I did, I begin to waver. Was it enough? The answer is always NO! All of the good things that I will ever do will never be enough. Just as it is “impossible that the blood of bulls and goats take away sin” (Hebrews 10:4), it is impossible for me to earn my own salvation. It has already been purchased. Instead of pretending I can do it on my own, I need to trust in the mercy of the One who purchased it. We are living in the New Covenant. God has no use for our “burnt offerings and sin offerings” (Hebrews 10:6). It’s our hearts He’s after. And once we give them to Him, our lives and all the good things we do are transformed from vain attempts to earn our salvation into joyful responses to the saving work He has already done. [bctt tweet="We are living in the New Covenant." username="blessedisshe__"] Pray this simple prayer to the Holy Spirit asking for Him to be with you in your day-to-day. 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.

In high school, I played tennis for my school. Our team was middle of the road. We were not state champions, we never won our division, but we played well enough. We won some matches and lost some. I enjoyed playing doubles because I loved having a partner on the court to encourage each other, to hype each other up, to gave high fives, to lift up, and to console. In my senior year, during one of the last matches of the season, we played against the best high school in our district. Our team typically got a few matches off of them, but they usually won. My partner and I were playing a great doubles team, and this was a match I will never forget. It was the longest one I’ve ever played. Every game had long rallies, every set went into a tie breaker, and we were fighting for every single point. My partner and I had run ourselves ragged and we were exhausted. We were the last match left out on the courts and our teammates were cheering us on. During the last hard-fought point of the match, we lost. I was heartbroken. My partner and I dusted ourselves off and shook our opponents’ hands. Then, I broke down in tears. This was a terrible way to lose, I thought. We were so close to defeating the other team and we just lost. But my coach offered some perspective that I have never forgotten over a decade later. He said, “You fought harder in this match than you ever have before. That in itself is a victory.” Now I’ve taken these words to heart over the years. I’ve learned many lessons along the way about giving my best effort and the benefits of putting my whole heart into the things I do. BUT, that’s not where I’m going with this story. In the first and second readings we see that, with Jesus, we are always on the winning team. He conquered death! He was victorious! He has given us salvation! We get to sing joyfully that He has destroyed death. He has promised eternal inheritance to those who follow Him. UM, YAAAS! I am pumped to be on His winning team. We are the forever champions because He wants to spend eternity with us. With YOU. With ME. Now I would have liked to win that match all those years ago. But, I can say that eternal victory is so much sweeter knowing it’s in Christ’s sacrifice. [bctt tweet="Eternal victory is so much sweeter knowing that it’s in Christ’s sacrifice." username="substance_soul"] Did you know that the Nicene Creed (which professes our faith, including Christ's victory) is an ecumenical statement of faith across Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox believers? See the statement on it for yourself. 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.

The world becomes ablaze with beauty when you pause long enough to watch the hands and feet of Jesus at work. I learned of this truth, when after a week of tragic news, and unfortunate glimpses of the worst behaviors we are sometimes capable of displaying, I decided to go look for the goodness. We piled into our van, each child with a tiny notebook in their hands, to search for ordinary people doing kind acts. Of course, we didn’t have to go very far. The hands and feet of Jesus were everywhere, visible in all the subtle instances that we often overlook. They were visible in the neighbor taking a plate of homemade muffins to a weary mother with sick little ones. They were visible in the stranger changing an elderly man’s flat tire, both of their faces crinkled with lines of laughter. They were visible in the teenage boy who handed a lady a few dollars after she realized she didn’t have enough to buy her groceries. “Now you are Christ's body, and individually parts of it. Some people God has designated in the church to be, first, apostles; second, prophets; third, teachers; then, mighty deeds; then gifts of healing, assistance, administration, and varieties of tongues” (1 Corinthians 12:27-28). Sisters, when we use the gift of ourselves to love others, we are working as the body of Christ. Jesus calls us to go forth and use our gifts for His glory. Often, we assume that our daily deeds are not enough. The little acts of service that may seem small in measure are abundant when they are done with love. Yes, we are the body of Christ, and He is at work in glorious ways. [bctt tweet="We are the body of Christ, and He is at work in glorious ways." username="blessedisshe__"] Pope Pius XII drafted this encyclical on the Mystical Body of Christ in the 1940's. It's worth looking over at this striking proclamation of the Church & Christ's relationship. 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.

Living in California, we don’t have freezing winters, so cold days are memorable. On those days, we loved to have a fire in the fireplace, but it wasn’t always successful. At first, our fires were weak at best. We couldn’t get the fire going and when we did, it fizzled out too soon. We looked online for tips and tricks and we finally figured out what we were doing wrong. We found the best way to arrange the logs and what kindling to use to make a fire worthy of a cold winter day. That image of us comically trying to get a fire going comes to mind when I read Saint Paul's words to “[Stir] into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:6-7). St. Catherine of Siena said it this way: “If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world on fire!” Sometimes in my spiritual life, I feel like that pathetic fire that wouldn’t blaze up, but fortunately, I know how to combat it. Prayer, Reconciliation, the Eucharist, the Rosary, a Holy Hour. . . these all serve as kindling for my soul. They help to light the flame of my heart so I can bring the warmth and light of God’s love to my family and community. They give me strength to build virtue and turn away from my pet sins. The formula is nothing new, but this time of year, I particularly need the reminder. The prayerful waiting of Advent is over, the excitement of Christmas and New Year's is gone, and we’ve not yet reached the soul-shaking weeks of Lent. It is easy to fall into a complacent lull. Let this be our inspiration to spark the flame of our hearts, so we can be a bright light to the world, especially in times of darkness. [bctt tweet="Be a bright light to the world, especially in times of darkness." username="bobbi_rol"] Do you want to start going to Eucharistic Adoration but aren't sure you'd know what to do? A thorough list here can help. Bobbi Rol is a wife, mama and blogger living on the Monterey Bay in CA with her husband, teen daughter, and three rambunctious boys. When she is not dodging light sabers or stepping on Legos, she can be found outside with her family, catching a late night movie, or decorating her planner. You can find out more about her here.

“Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will” (Responsorial Psalm). I WANT to do God’s will. Really I do. But how can I know what that is? Well, I can’t claim to have this ALL figured out. But I’ve got three techniques that I use. . . 1) Rightly inspired. If I want to do God’s will, a good place to start is by learning about folks who definitely had that box checked. The lives of the Saints have been an excellent source of inspiration to me on how radical the submission to God’s will can be, and how different it can look from one person to the next. 2) Bless it or block it. If I am presented with an opportunity, or a choice, or a crazy idea, I can immediately pray, “Okay, God, bless this or block it. If You want me to do this, help it happen. If You don’t, make it impossible.” Perfect, right? Except, in my life, things are almost never quite as blessed or blocked as I would like. For example, I recently got an idea for a significant new project that involved many complicated steps, the very first of which, oddly enough, was the procuring of four relatively commonplace items from the grocery store. I went to seven different stores, plus two locations to which my GPS sent me, which were not actually stores, all the while praying, “bless it or block it,” and was able to find exactly two of the four items. “Seriously God? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!” So, it’s not foolproof. 3) Direction, not just advice. Today is the feast day of Saint Francis de Sales, an amazing proponent of the universal call to holiness, especially among the laity, and specifically of spiritual direction. When the lives of the Saints and personal prayer aren’t enough—which is often—spiritual direction with a trusted priest or layperson has been indispensable to me in discerning God’s will. [bctt tweet="I want to do God’s will." username="kendra_tierney"] If you are discerning spiritual direction, this is a good place to begin. 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.

It's a difficult truth that sometimes when we do good work, really good work, we might be criticized or even hated for it. I think artists and performers know this well, or anyone who has a passion or business or hobby that puts you in front of people. This is also so true for mothers who receive resistance towards the good things you offer to your children, or experience criticism from others because of your choices for your family. We can take a lesson from Jesus in today's Gospel who, despite the disbelief and hardness of hearts of those around Him, boldly heals the man with the withered hand. He does this work for all to see, not hiding or diminishing His healing power. I think that often times I can get caught up in fear of how others might negatively react, and so I hide or diminish the work and power that God wants to do through me. This Gospel encourages me to show up and allow God to do His good work through me with boldness and courage. Showing up in true goodness and authenticity always involves a risk. Others may not understand, or they may even take offense at what you do, but like Jesus' example, healing and life can be found through these experiences. Jesus shows up in boldness and does His Father's works with strength, courage and authority, even though He knows they will then plot to kill Him. How wonderful that we have a God who is not afraid to heal us despite the hatred and disdain from others. And likewise, at any time we can also "stretch out [our] hand" to receive God's healing, life, and restoration for ourselves as well. May we receive God's healing power by fearlessly showing up as our true selves to allow God to work through us in courage and confidence! [bctt tweet="May we receive God's healing power by fearlessly showing up as our true selves to allow God to work through us in courage and confidence!" username="blessedisshe__"] A powerful example for us, Saint Katharine Drexel left a wealthy and comfortable life to bring healing and hope to impoverished people, including helping to found the first college for African Americans. Read her surprising journey here. Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time creating art, writing, and playing her Irish harp. As a life coach, she encourages and challenges women in all walks of life to bravely discover their purpose and to more fully live in freedom as the person they are created to be. You can find out more about her here.

Sometimes I lose hope that abortion will be eradicated in our world. I hate that my soul is so easily swayed in this regard; but maybe you have felt this way, too. I lose hope in our culture, politicians, and neighbors. Because I haven’t seen a quick-enough return on decades of prayer, advocacy, and rallies, I harden to my heart to hope. But these readings are reviving me. Today is the day of prayer for the legal protection of the unborn (in the USA). And we know that abortion is a worldwide scourge. With this in mind, the readings are reborn in my heart. The First Reading assures us: "God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love you have demonstrated for his name by having served and continuing to serve the holy ones. We earnestly desire each of you to demonstrate the same eagerness for the fulfillment of hope until the end, so that you may not become sluggish . . ." (Hebrews 6:10-11). Saint Paul gives me a needed kick in the rear, yet again. We know that Christ has the final word over life and death. We know that His justice, truth, and mercy will prevail. We know that the beautiful souls lost to the horror of abortion are beloved by Him. So why do I lose hope? Why do I let cynicism wrestle me to passivity? Because it’s easier to accept the grief over abortion than to feel it and fight to end it? Because I might not see the results I want in my lifetime, both in the laws of the land and in the hearts of the people? And yet God sees it all. Every prayer, outreach, and encouraging word to expectant mothers. Every prayer, fast, and hope for unborn children in danger of abortion. Every prayer, letter, and march demanding legal protection for babies and better resources and care for their mothers. He blesses it all. I don’t want to grow sluggish and cynical in this work for life. I want to be eager and hopeful to the end. [bctt tweet="We know that His justice, truth, and mercy will prevail." username="to_the_heights"] Rachel's Vineyard is an international group that offers support, services, and healing retreats for post-abortive women and people. If you are suffering in this area, don't be afraid to reach out for loving help. If you are trying to find work outside of the abortion industry, And Then There Were None is here to lend help and support. 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. You can find out more about her here.

Lately, the distance between my human life and the Divine Life of Christ seems insurmountable. I’m trying to love God and others, despite my weaknesses and failings. I desire more than anything to be a Saint. But in my daily struggles against the world, the flesh, and the devil, holiness and Heaven often seem unattainable and far away. In truth, the distance between Heaven and me—between God and me—is insurmountable through human effort. It is a divide that can only be overcome through Christ’s work of restoration. I envision Jesus in Heaven before His Father, and knowing fully the suffering He would endure in human form, He accepted this rescue mission: “Yes, I will go! Send Me down there, so I can bring Your daughter back here.” And then I see Jesus the God-Man in agony in the Garden: "when he was in the Flesh, he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to the one who was able to save him from death" (Hebrews 5:7). Jesus was in the flesh. He shared my humanity; He was tempted in all things like I am, yet He was without sin (Hebrews 4:15). In His human nature, frail like ours, as He faced humiliation, rejection, fear, and a torturous death. Jesus experienced how difficult and costly it can be to obey God. But He did obey. His prayer of absolute obedience and surrender—"Thy will be done," initiated the act of redemption which frees me from the curse of disobedience and opens the way to Heaven. Jesus, in human flesh like mine, teaches me the secret to becoming a Saint and getting to Heaven. It is daily obedience to the Father—in the small decisions throughout my day, by choosing to love and surrender my will, and allowing God to test and perfect my obedience through suffering and difficult circumstances. "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 7:21). [bctt tweet="Jesus, in human flesh like mine, teaches me the secret to becoming a Saint and getting to Heaven. It is daily obedience to the Father." username="bloverevolution"] The "Jesus prayer" or "pilgrim's prayer" is powerful and popular in the Eastern Church but Roman Catholics pray it as well. Learn it and its history 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 33 years, is the founder and Director of the Be Love Revolution, speaks at retreats and conferences around the country, and leads youth mission trips to the garbage dump in Mexico City. 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.

Today’s reading about the marriage at Cana is so well known, I usually gloss over it. But something struck me this time. Saint John wrote that Jesus told the servers to fill the jars with water and they did. "They filled them to the brim" (John 2:7). To the brim. Not half way, not most of the way, but to the brim. Imagine the abundance of wine on the edge of spilling from the twenty-gallon sized jars. Jesus works miracles, and when I bring water He draws out wine. But that’s just it, isn’t it? I have to bring something for Him to transform. He won’t force it upon me; instead, He waits to be invited in, even though He knows my needs. My prayer, my work, and my relationships can be transformed by Jesus if I give Him the opportunity to do so. Our God is a God of abundance. So often I hold on to parts of my life, trying to keep them within my grasp, thinking that if I can just tighten my grip a little more I can figure it out myself. But Jesus wants to reveal His glory to me in my letting go, offering all of myself, to the brim. [bctt tweet="Jesus wants to reveal His glory to me in my letting go, offering all of myself, to the brim." username="jacquiskemp"] Have you already done our reflection study series "Beloved" on the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary? The wedding feast at Cana is one of the Mysteries! Jacqueline Skemp is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother who endures living in Minnesota after leaving California for her one true love. You can find out more about her here.

It was just another Saturday morning in the confessional line with my family. As I examined my conscience, I realized that I had been a major crank with my family lately. I dug around in my heart trying to figure out the root of it, only to see that it was directly related to being sick for months. I pleaded with Him, God, how can you expect someone dealing with chronic pain and illness to be joyful? His response was something along the lines of today’s first reading. "[W]e do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin" (Hebrews 4:15). But this did not stop my protest, But Jesus, You are God . . . I am only human. I was then filled with a great sense of His compassion. He did sympathize. He had already made my pain and my suffering His own—all suffering everywhere had been redeemed by Him whether we realize it or not. But He took it a step further by offering to transform me more closely to Him through my own suffering. It was as if He were saying, You know, Susanna, the only way to live virtuously is by actually accepting My grace. The Saints who suffered gracefully did exactly that, with My help. Then I realized my great lack of hope in Him. I had been going through my days trying and failing to be brave and cheerful on my own, when He was right beside me, carrying my cross along with me, just waiting to give me His peace and joy in my suffering. "So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help" (Hebrews 4:16). I knew after this time of going to Confession, His grace would help me in my struggles, each and every time I sought it out. [bctt tweet="He was right beside me, carrying my cross along with me, just waiting to give me His peace and joy in my suffering." username="blessedisshe__"] Have you heard any of Venerable Fulton Sheen's sermons on suffering? Watch an old-school broadcast clip here. 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.

"It became known that He was home" (Mark 2:1). Jesus was home. He returned to Galilee, a lush and fruitful region. His friends must have been so happy to see Him again in Capernaum, a small town on the shores of the Sea of Galilee thirty miles east of Nazareth. While I was on pilgrimage there six months ago, the natural beauty helped me understand why this was one of Jesus’ favorite spots. He was home. Wandering along my winding path of life, there are times when I have felt home and other times I have felt an interior homelessness. Experiencing home contains peace, joy, and rest while encountering homelessness involves anxiety, confusion, and exhaustion. And for me, I know I’m home when I can rest. (And those who know me well know I love to sleep!) We are encouraged in today’s Letter to the Hebrews to enter into His rest. But this is far deeper than getting more physical sleep. We are actually commanded to rest, imitating the way God rested on the seventh day of creation. The Good News is that we are not alone! Jesus wants to lead us into heavenly rest. When we look in today’s Gospel at the dramatic scene of faith-filled friends lowering the paralytic through the roof, notice how quiet and still the paralytic is. Maybe he also felt anxious, confused, and exhausted. And Jesus tenderly responded with loving mercy and complete forgiveness. How beautiful that we can encounter this response of Jesus today in the Sacrament of Penance! (Can you think of any friends you would like to lower into a confessional?) And although the paralytic is silent, he is receptive. Only the silent can hear. And Jesus said to the paralytic, "I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home" (Mark 2:11). Yes, Jesus heals this man, brings him freedom, and tells him to go home. Can you imagine how deeply this man must have experienced peace, joy, and rest that night? Jesus leads him home. This grace is also available for us: Jesus wants us to enter into His rest. Come, let us rest on His Merciful Heart today! [bctt tweet="Jesus wants us to enter into His rest. Come, let us rest on His Merciful Heart today!" username="blessedisshe__"] Do you have a day of the week you rest? The Catechism of the Catholic Church gives us good ideas on how to rest and enter into God's resting day on Sundays. Rose Coleman is a contemplative in action who delights in all things beautiful. Her adventurous heart has traveled many places—from circumnavigating the globe on a ship during college to some years in the convent as a religious sister. Exuberant from her childhood, she is an elementary school teacher who learns so much from her students. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: Ways to Pray study found here.