Have you ever witnessed a shepherd at work as he or she corrals clueless sheep toward gates of safety? Ever watched a shepherd lead her flock across dangerous mountain ranges to get to the river for a drink? At night, have you seen a shepherd hedge in her sheep with her body to protect them from the wolves waiting to devour them? I have, but it looked slightly different. I’ve witnessed seminarians process into a church led by hundreds of priestly shepherds, surrounded by the flock they will vow to protect into the Gates of Heaven. I’ve watched countless spiritual shepherds lead one sheep at a time from treacherous lives of sin to drink the living water of Christ. I have seen men lay down their lives on cathedral floors for you and me on their ordination day like a shepherd safeguarding their sheep. Sisters, Christ is not the only man who laid His life down for you. Countless faithful and holy priests have done so because they are convinced you have earthly and eternal value! Your worth is found in the chalice you raise to your lips after declaring, “Amen, I believe.” You are paid for in full every time your voice utters the words, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Over the past few months, I have been left speechless by the priestly shepherds in my life, ordained men who have not ceased to seek me, their lost sheep. In the midst of wolves attacking the Church, I am thankful for the priests who chose to wear their collars or cassocks in public. I am encouraged by fathers who compassionately listened to people who called them names by association and endured being spat upon and harassed because of those that chose to go astray instead of being the shepherds they vowed to be. Today, when I read this Gospel, I am grateful for the priestly shepherds in my life. They have been called by our heavenly Father to find you and me. Will you allow your priestly shepherd to carry you back to Christ? Because this is what they have vowed to do, and today’s Gospel demands us to recognize that we are not the 99, we are the single lost sheep in need of our shepherd to find us and bring us back into the flock. [bctt tweet="I am grateful for the priestly shepherds in my life. They have been called by our heavenly Father to find you and me." username="SoCalTriciaT"] Let us pray the Act of Contrition for all the times we've sinned and left Our Lord. 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.

Have you ever seen a wooden cross carved with vines and flowers? Pretty as they can be, it is odd to see an instrument of death blooming and bursting with life and fruit and flowers. But that is what the Cross is. It’s not just a juxtaposition of death and life, but death leading to life, an end making way for a beginning. In today’s Gospel Jesus is laying out the cost of the Christian life. He doesn’t get into the details, but He does make the bigger picture clear: He comes first. We are asked to love Him above all else, even our own lives. “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27). I am weak. I know that I sink into comforts and habits that make it easy for me to make excuses for myself. But He is calling me to more than that. He is calling me to death. When I cling to the cross and wrap my weaknesses around it, I pray that they die with Him. I need Him to gently loosen my grip, get it out of my way, so I can receive His. I pray that He takes my broken sinfulness and pulls life from it. [bctt tweet="I know that I sink into comforts and habits that make it easy for me to make excuses for myself. But He is calling me to more than that." username="jacquiskemp"] What is your cross? Can you unite it with His? What needs to die so new life can spring forth? 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.

I’m a doer. If I don’t have a running to-do list, errands to run, or people to touch base with, I automatically feel as though I am not doing enough, not being enough, and not getting enough done. I fill my calendar from the moment I rise to the moment it’s time to head to bed, and a day well spent for me is too often a day without much stillness. I’m a person of action, and sometimes—more often than I’d like to admit—it is really hard for me to step away from all of the to-do’s and simply rest with the Lord. “'Come, everything is now ready.’ But one by one, they all began to excuse themselves.” (Luke 14:17-18). How often is it that I excuse myself from the invitation to rest with Him, if only for a while? Today’s Gospel pulls my heart and mind back to what is important—to simply recognize the invitation I am so generously extended and to receive the invitation without worrying about my arbitrary to-do’s. So many are invited to a place at the table, yet so many are too busy to pay notice to the invitation extended. I am too often a part of the too many. Each new morning, He invites me to His table—to the banquet of plenty. To simply be by His side. To put on the back burner all that I have to do and rest in His presence alone. To begin a new day with Him, to dine with Him, to listen to His word, and internalize His way—His ‘to-do’s’ for the day. My hope and prayer for each of us today, sisters, is that we may choose to receive the invitation to join Him. To prioritize this day—not with our own ‘to-do’ lists, but with our minds and hearts set on His call. And may this be enough! [bctt tweet="My hope and prayer for each of us today, sisters, is that we may choose to receive the invitation to join Him." username="blessedisshe__"] Write on the top of your to-do list: "Rest with God." Make it a priority today. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their quite large GSD pup, Sully, and baby on the way. 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.

I said a quick prayer to the Holy Spirit and dove into the Mass readings for today. Saint Paul gave me pause in his letter to the Romans when he reminded us "do nothing out of selfishness or vainglory." I pushed the discomfort aside and read on: "humbly regard others as more important than yourselves." (Philippians 2:3). I plowed ahead, only to be reminded by the Psalmist: "my heart is not proud and my eyes are not haughty." (Psalm 131:1). I scrolled nervously down to the Gospel reading, bowing my head a little at the Lord's admonition: ". . . when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you." (Luke 14:13-14). I struggle with social media. I don't think I'm alone in this. I struggle with wanting to find just the right picture to share. I take pleasure in crafting the perfect turn of phrase in my writing, and I love making people laugh with a quick witted and aptly timed remark. Those little red hearts do more than just spike my dopamine; all too often they fool me into thinking that my prowess on the stage that is the world wide web takes precedence over my presence to my family, to my friends, to my neighbors. I have a proud heart and haughty eyes. I take pleasure in creating for creating's sake, yes, but truth be told, I also crave the rush of being seen, being known, and being affirmed. My motivation isn't completely selfless, and the less I invite the Creator Spirit into my toil, the more selfish I become. But when I leave God out of the equation, no amount of likes can make up for how hollow that feels. Co-creating with God is the absolute height of closeness and accomplishment. It fills the soul with praise and gratitude. Creating apart from God, on the other hand, may produce a few thrills along the way, but the end result will always be a bit hollow. [bctt tweet="Co-creating with God is the absolute height of closeness and accomplishment. It fills the soul with praise and gratitude" username="jkuebbing"] Take a minute today to pray the Litany of Humility. Print it out or hand letter it and hang it somewhere you will see it every morning. Jenny Uebbing is a wife, mother to five, and blogger. She's learning to practice self care again after a long stretch of baby growing, and if everyone else is asleep you can usually find her in the gym or behind her Kindle. You can find out more about her here.

It has been sixteen years since I sat in Sister Lucy’s classroom. To this day I clearly remember her picking up a piece of white chalk and writing Sh’ma on the blackboard. Listen, she explained, expressing how deeply she desired for us to remember not only the Hebrew word, but what it actually was: the commandment God’s people receive in today’s First Reading: “Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone! Therefore, you shall love the LORD, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5) At first hearing, the Great Commandment may sound overwhelming, demanding, perhaps even impossible. But in reality, dear sisters, this commissioning is an invitation to a loving relationship with God, our Father. If we have no relationship of love with God, what do we have? The Holy Spirit brings to mind a familiar verse from Corinthians, where we learn that without love we gain nothing; we are nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3). Without a deep, intimate, personal encounter of love with God, we are lost. When we love the Lord, we will never be alone or forsaken. When we love the Lord and are obedient to Him, He will be with us. (John 14:23). When we love the Lord, we come to have a fullness of heart, bound to overflow into love of neighbor, as Jesus teaches to be the second commandment in today’s Gospel. (Mark 12:29-30). The living out of these greatest commandments will look different for each one of us. We are on our own personal journeys with the Lord. Each of us bearing different crosses, celebrating a variety of joys, living in different communities. Yet we should all be committed to deeper relationship and communion with God Who in His perfect design created us to desire His Love. Let us do our best to love Him with our whole hearts and souls, that by His grace it will be as Jesus tells the man in today’s Gospel, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” (Mark 12:34). No, neither are we, sisters. Neither are we. [bctt tweet="We should all be committed to deeper relationship and communion with God Who in His perfect design created us to desire His Love." username="inendlesssong"] Spend some time in prayer with the Great Commandment. Ask the Lord: What would it look like for me to truly love You with all my heart, all my soul, and all my strength? Elise Howe is a devoted wife, momma, vocal artist and teacher. She currently resides in New York City, though she will always be a Midwestern gal at heart. Elise has a heart for ministry, dark chocolate (but not too dark) and coffee with a generous amount of cream + sugar. Find out more about her here.

"For Your glory, Lord," I pray between breaths as I push myself to keeping running. "May my run and my day be spent for Your glory. Be magnified in me. Let my life reflect Your glory in me." And so continue my unspoken prayers as I offer up my entire day. It wasn't until I took my running seriously that I understood how I can glorify God in my body. Let's be honest—if I don't sleep well, eat right, or keep my body healthy, I'm a cranky wife and mother, prone to angry outbursts, laziness, and even illness. By caring for my health so that I may be physically fit as well as spiritually and mentally strong, I am best able to serve Him through my family and all the other ways He calls me. I magnify Christ more when I care for the body and talents He gave me, and, like Saint Paul and all the Saints, bear fruit from my labors. That Saint Paul wrote his letter from prison, most likely a place of great physical and spiritual suffering, fuels my desire to magnify Christ even more. I know my struggles do not compare with imprisonment nor the sufferings of so many people in the world. How quick I am to complain about my first-world problems! Other Saints who similarly magnified Christ through their lives, even in suffering, come to mind: Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Blessed Chiara Badano. These amazing people gave glory to God in health and suffering! Their love of the Lord radiated through their good works as well as their spiritual joy. Learning from these Saints, I'm inspired to more intentionally offer everything for Christ. Suffering can be fruitful, as the Church has long taught. (Catechism of the Catholic Church § 1505). It is my renewed goal to embrace the difficult parts of my life, to offer it all to God (rather than complaining), to rejoice in hope that Christ will be magnified through my life. So whether I run or fold laundry or handle a tantrum, I want to be like Saint Paul and magnify Christ. [bctt tweet="Whether I run or fold laundry or handle a tantrum, I want to be like Saint Paul and magnify Christ." username="blessedisshe__"] Practice giving glory to God today in all you do, with the simple prayer, "For Your glory, Lord. Ad majorem dei gloriam." 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.

November is the Month of the Holy Souls in Purgatory. If you aren't in the habit of hanging out in cemeteries and praying for the dead . . . well, you're really missing out. And so are the dead. As Christians, we believe that the dead are not gone. Their bodies have died, but their souls live on forever. We believe that Jesus will come at the end of time to judge all human beings who have ever lived. This is called the general judgment. But those who die before Jesus comes again face what is called the particular judgment. There are three possible outcomes to the particular judgment: Heaven, Hell, or—for those who loved God, but imperfectly—Purgatory. One of the Spiritual Works of Mercy is to Pray for the Living and the Dead. It truly is a beautiful act of charity to pray for these souls who cannot pray for themselves, and to make sacrifices for them since they cannot make sacrifices for themselves. The are three indulgences specifically associated with this month, available pursuant to the usual conditions. (For more on indulgences, see here.) On All Souls Day itself (today), if you visit a church, and pray the Our Father and the Creed, you can be granted a plenary indulgence applicable to the souls in Purgatory. Any time between November 1st and 8th, you can visit a cemetery and pray for the dead. Any time of the year, you can obtain a partial indulgence for praying for the dead in a cemetery, but this week you can obtain a plenary (or full) indulgence. You can obtain one on each of those days. A partial indulgence, applicable only to the souls in Purgatory, can be obtained when the Eternal Rest (Requiem aeternam) is prayed. This is a good prayer to recite any time, but it's especially appropriate during November. We add it to the end of our Grace before meals all month. "Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen." I have been taking my kids to pray in cemeteries during this week for over ten years now, and I can’t recommend it enough. I hope that someday we’ll show up in Heaven to be greeted by a lifetime of souls who were freed from Purgatory with the help of our prayers! [bctt tweet="I hope that someday we’ll show up in Heaven to be greeted by a lifetime of souls who were freed from Purgatory with the help of our prayers!" username="kendra_tierney"] Honor the dead by praying for the repose of their souls today. It's a wonderful act of mercy! Kendra Tierney is a forty 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 counting down the days until her oldest turns sixteen and can take over some of the driving! 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.

The last few months have been a difficult time for the Catholic Church. It was heartbreaking to hear my kids ask me how people who are supposed to be leaders and witnesses of the Faith could do such horrible things. Thankfully, a week or two later, our family attended a Catholic conference in Southern California. Walking through the large hall, we saw numerous faithful priests, sisters and religious in their various habits. My youngest stared wide-eyed and wanted to know if they were all real or just in costume, like a Catholic comic-con. I laughed and assured him that they were real. During the conference, I stopped at some of the booths and talked to the religious. It was especially heartwarming to see so many young ones, but in all of them I noticed that beyond the habit, there was a peaceful beauty in their smiles, their manner, and the way they interacted with other people. Seeing their joy was a balm to my weary soul. I thanked God for their witness. Later, I knelt in prayer before Jesus and I could hear God reminding my heart that I am called to that same kind of witness. I am called to holiness, first for the salvation of my own soul, and second to be a witness to the souls God has placed around me—my family, my friends, the people I interact with throughout my day. I may not be wearing a religious habit, but I am striving to be clothed in a robe of charity and virtue. That is intimidating because I am so far from being holy, but Jesus knows that. He doesn’t expect me to be perfect. He does expect me to try to live a life of heroic virtue in my little corner of the world. When we think of the Saints, sometimes we picture grand gestures of faith or legendary acts of martyrdom, but for most of them, sainthood came from the day-in and day-out living of the Faith consistently. That was their road to sainthood. They had faults to overcome, crosses to carry, and evil times in their histories. However, they continued to walk the narrow road with their eyes focused on Our Lord. Happy All Saints Feast Day. Ora pro nobis! [bctt tweet="When we think of the Saints, sometimes we picture grand gestures of faith or legendary acts of martyrdom, but for most of them, sainthood came from the day-in and day-out living of the Faith consistently." username="bobbi_rol"] Their call to holiness is not exclusive. That road to sainthood is before us now. How is God calling you to live in greater holiness today? 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.

This Gospel rattles my bones every time I read it or hear it proclaimed at Mass. I imagine being one of those who knocks on the door and the Lord says to me, "I do not know where you are from. Depart from me" (Luke 13:27). My heart explodes with regret when I envision being faced with such rejection from the Lord Himself. But if I am transparent with myself, there are many times in my life when I could join in with the statement of those knocking, "We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets," (Luke 13:26), essentially telling Jesus, "Yes, I saw you around. I heard you speaking, but I wasn't exactly listening." In our time today, this can look like going to Mass but never really paying attention. It can look like going to an array of church events to meet people and socialize, but never actually cultivating a prayer life. It looks like an autopilot, lethargic, passionless faith, and this is not what Christ wants for us. The Saints showed us what the antidote to facing such banishment from the Lord is . . . it is to know the person of Jesus Christ. When we read any of their writings or their prayers and it is crystal clear—the Saints didn't just know about Jesus—they knew Him. And they let knowing Him spring forth in them a desire to be just like Him. It is one thing to hang out around Jesus . . . it is a different choice to really, truly know Him, to love Him, and to passionately listen to what He says and let it continually affect and change our lives. The Lord desires that we would do more than just be "around"—He desires intimate relationship with us. He desires for us to want to get to know Him as a person—and therefore love Him—and therefore serve Him. My prayer is that when I knock on the door, by the way I have lived and known Jesus, the Lord would open up the door, see me, and say, "Ah, Emily. I know you. Come in." How can you know Him and be known? Write down three ways you can move toward this knowing today. 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.

I often struggle with the temptation of being very merit-through-productivity based. What I mean is, the amount I can physically accomplish is somehow the measure of how good I am, both in my own eyes and in the eyes of God. In seasons where I can do very little, I tend to slide downhill quickly by my own silly measurement of me and my worth. It's such a mistrusting and prideful temptation, isn't it? I know (on paper) that the reality is I accomplish nothing, ever, and that it's only always by God's grace anything gets done (and through the abilities He has given to me). Yet, I'm so attached to these false metrics of worth; I cling so tightly to what I can do . . . when, really, what do I ever do? My attempts are all so tiny, so feeble, so weak. But God is so good to remind us of our own reality, which is: we can do nothing, and, somehow simultaneously, do everything though Him Who makes all things new, over and over again. The Gospel reminds us that He has not only called us to participate in the Kingdom of Heaven, but to be an essential component (Luke 13:18-21). In His great love, He requires our little seed, our gift of self, to be the impetus of the great blossoming of His Kingdom here on Earth. He uses our weakness and all our human limitations, and most importantly, our love. It is precisely why our little efforts, and our sacrifices, and our prayers, matter so much. In our letting go, He can build us up. In our emptying out, He can fill. What God can do with the little we give! [bctt tweet="What God can do with the little we give!" username="blessedisshe__"] If you feel you have nothing to give, and no great accomplishments to show your worth, take a second and remember that He has given you your worth and it's not a gift you can return. Pray for a deeper sense of worth as a child of God today. Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 8 smallish kids. She loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. You can find out more about her here.

"[L]ive in love . . .” (Ephesians 5:2). In today’s Gospel we are met with an all too familiar scene: Jesus being challenged by a religious leader and ultimately proving them wrong. Once again we find those in power trying to trick Christ, or somehow find an error in His actions. The fact that the leader of the synagogue is searching for some weakness in Jesus does not surprise me. What does surprise me is that he saw Jesus’ healing of the crippled woman as “work.” The description of this event does not include Christ having to move mountains or build cities or do anything super laborious. He simply speaks to the woman, tells her she is healed, and embraces her. He loves her. Initially, my mind wants to criticize this man for looking at an act of love as work. How could he possibly admonish Jesus for loving this woman and restoring her health? How can Jesus’ love for this woman be seen as unlawful? It is easy to condemn his words and actions, just as he condemned those of Christ. But what about those times where I have chosen not to love because it seemed like a burden or too much work? And how could I explain those times when I have judged someone else’s act of compassion as being "wrong" without knowing their heart or motives? Thanks be to God, Jesus uses this critique as a teachable moment—a moment where He assures the woman and those gathered that there is no day or time when you cannot reach out to the Lord for healing. He is ready and waiting to set you free from whatever is weighing on your heart. God’s love for us is relentless—even on the day of rest. [bctt tweet="He is ready and waiting to set you free from whatever is weighing on your heart." username="blessedisshe__"] Whom are you not choosing to love today because it's too hard? Make small goals to work toward being more loving toward them, especially if that person is you yourself. Sarah Stanley is a small town Ohio girl who is mildly obsessed with all things Ignatian and is very passionate about faith, social justice, and the intersection of the two. She recently earned her Master of Divinity and now serves as the Director of Christian Service at a high school in New England. When she’s not working, she enjoys contagious laughter, travel, clever puns, and finding the good in all things. You can find out more about her here.

It was the longest five minutes ever. I paced the hall, nearly wearing a hole in the carpet. My stomach turned; whether from nerves or something more, I’d soon find out. Finally, a shrill ringing filled the silence. The timer propelled me to the bathroom, where I sucked in a breath and reached for the test. There was a time when the slim white stick meant a simple yes or no. I was no longer so naïve; I’d learned it could also mean “maybe,” with the potential to break my world apart. Memories, uninvited, crowded in: twice, in the past six months, a similar test had declared the affirmative: “new life!” Yet twice, in the same six months, we were folded in two not while welcoming life, but in grieving our children’s death. An emergency surgery, doctor’s words warning of potential infertility left me numbly shattered, fighting through the darkness. My heart whispered a barely-coherent prayer to our family patron: Please, Saint Jude. Pray we can have at least one more? And suddenly there I was, back in the bathroom, tenuously reaching for the test. “Yes!” It shouted. “Maybe,” I whispered. But appointment after appointment, all was well. It wasn’t until my third trimester that I made the connection: my due date, October 28, was Saint Jude’s feast day. I smiled innocently, never guessing that our beautiful son would actually make his arrival on that very date. Now, every year on this Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, I tell my birthday boy the story of our Saint Jude Miracle—the story of his life. But the irony of it all? When he was born, I thought it more a lovely little coincidence than anything else. It took hindsight and a deepening relationship with Jesus to truly recognize our absolutely astounding miracle straight from Heaven. Maybe you, like me, tend to miss miracles. Maybe you’ve read today’s Gospel with skepticism, believing miracles are confined to history, or only true for others. But friends, our God is still very much in the business of miracles. From the forgotten miracles of every breath we breathe to the everyday providence by which He sustains us, Our Lord—indeed all of Heaven—is listening with love. Our friends the Saints, and above all our Passion-ridden Savior, accompany us through every heartache, trial and consolation of this life—continually making miracles happen along the way. [bctt tweet="Our friends the Saints, and above all our Passion-ridden Savior, accompany us through every heartache, trial and consolation of this life—continually making miracles happen along the way." username="PosImperfect"] Look closely: what miracles has God brought about in your life? Write them down or maybe share them with someone today, and thank God for His incredible goodness. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. 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.

“The glory of God is a human being fully alive!” (Saint Ireneaus) Self-care is a topic that’s often talked about in today’s world. It’s probably safe to say you’ve heard that your body functions best when it is well cared for. Taking mental breaks, eating healthfully, and trying for eight solid hours of sleep result in our bodies working so much better. As a mama of four wild and rambunctious boys who don’t believe in sleep, I know full well that routine self-care is a lofty goal but also reachable if I make it a priority. (I also am aware that when you eat one scoop too much of ice cream, your whole body becomes sluggish, or that exercising for the first time in a while heightens your awareness of every muscle in your body.) Today’s reading from Ephesians 4:7-16 discusses the Mystical Body of Christ (those of us who in the Church here on Earth as well as those in Purgatory and Heaven). With Christ at its head, and Mary as its neck, we are all endowed with special grace to function as one body. In the same way our body reacts to overdoses of sugar or an overworked muscle, the Body of Christ is connected. My ungrateful attitude or backhanded comment can and often hurts more than just myself. It’s often painfully apparent when I realize my family is bickering and whining more frequently, or when I hear something out of my eight year old’s mouth that I realize I said first. How I choose to act, speak, and listen or when I refrain from doing has a wide-reaching effect. Sisters, we are created for community and unity, “joined and held together by every supporting ligament with the proper functioning of each part, [which] brings about the Body’s growth and builds itself up in love” (Ephesians 4:16). The Church isn’t a do-gooders club with renewable membership for if and when we "feel like it," merely living separate lives and getting together as it benefits us. It’s the living and breathing Body of Christ. Daily we strive to become Saints, not only working on our own salvation, but building up those around us so that all are strengthened. Let’s focus on growing in faith AND helping each other be fully alive! [bctt tweet="Daily we strive to become Saints, not only working on our own salvation, but building up those around us so that all are strengthened." username="blessedisshe__"] What does that even look like? Community is key, and I’m so thankful to Blessed is She for providing routes to that, so each of us has the opportunity to grow alongside one another. Check our Blessed Brunch listings and see one nearby that you can attend! No? Sign up to host one! This is one simple way you can work towards growing in unity with your sisters in His Body. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother to four boys. When not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or writing at her blog. You can find out more about her here.

Throughout life we experience a variety of callings. During my twenties, a personal call I experienced was to serve in lay ministry for the Church, one I continue to this day. Saint Teresa of Calcutta experienced a "call within in a call" to go and found the Missionaries of Charity. Servant of God Dorothy Day experienced a call to found The Catholic Worker Movement. Many of us experience calls in our careers, vocations, and creative pursuits. Sacred Scripture is full of stories of women and men who experience a call upon their life. Saint Paul challenges the Christians in Ephesus to "live in a manner worthy of the call you have received" (Ephesians 4:1). What is this "call" that he speaks of? Through Jesus Christ we have worth, identity, and dignity. As women, we are called daughters of the Most High God. By the grace of our Baptism and Confirmation, we are called to holiness and share our role in the priesthood of all believers. Each of us is called by Jesus to be priest, prophet, and king; a call upon our life. This "call" that Saint Paul speaks of is exactly that—the membership we have been given in the Body of Christ. When we know who we are before God, it changes how we live our lives and treat other people. It affects how we serve our neighbor, carry ourselves in our careers, and spend our time. Sisters, live your life in a such a way that reflects the call God has had for you as He held you in mind from all eternity. Know who you are before the Father and live out of those truths, all of them. [bctt tweet="Know who you are before the Father and live out of those truths, all of them." username="amoderngrace"] Spend some time in prayer today reflecting on the various calls in your life: How have you seen God move in them? How is He using you? Patty Breen is a full-time lay minister who finds joy in running, strong cups of coffee, and all things Ignatian spirituality. A Midwest gal from the mitten state, she is constantly learning to find grace in all things. She is passionate about ministry to divorced Catholic and women whose relationships have been impacted by sexual addiction. Find out more about her here.

“Don’t rock the boat,” I thought to myself as I stared down at the powdery substance laid out before him on the dinner table. I knew it was wrong, but I had worked so hard to get to where I was. I had spent late nights and weekends working, determined to etch my name into payroll. And there I was, finally an official employee at a major music label. I wanted to be liked. I wanted to blend in. And so, with anxious silence clutching at my throat, I watched a man snort poison into his nostrils at a restaurant in the middle of Canada. Fifteen years now reside between me and that moment. Fifteen years. And I still think about it. I still remember the inner turmoil I felt as I battled between what I knew to be right and wrong. I still recall my intense desire to fit in. I still remember my complacency and the crippling fear that came with the simple idea of walking away. I think we all face this in life—this longing to conform, to keep the boat steady when everything inside is screaming for you to tip the darn thing over. Today’s Gospel is a sobering reminder of this. “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division” (Luke 12:51). Our hearts yearn for something beyond this world, they sway with the movement of His love, but so often, our outward portrayal of our belief is stifled under the weight of the pressure to fit in. May we have the courage to live boldly for Him. May our lives dictate a Holy divide, and may we rock those boats when the boats need rocking. [bctt tweet="May we have the courage to live boldly for Him." username="IamBritCal"] Face what your fear is in not fitting in. If it's your friend group that isn't supportive of your Catholic lifestyle, maybe it's time for new friends. Let Our Lord speak to your heart on this! Brittany Calavitta is an enthusiastic advocate for a good book, strong coffee, and a hopeful heart. After battling years of infertility, she and her husband welcomed their first child on September 11, 2016. You can find out more about her here.

Dear sisters in Christ, I sit here frustrated and at a loss for words. Upon reading today’s readings I felt the tension in my neck and shoulders rise, my jaw clenched, my hands paralyzed by anger. It’s not much different from how I felt when I entered the confessional late this summer. I had avoided going out of anger and fear due to the recent revelations of the cancerous scandal infecting our beloved Church. In the quietness of the confessional, white knuckled and clutching onto the kneeler, I figuratively began flipping tables as I expressed how upset I was about clergy who have acted like the unfaithful steward. “Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more” (Luke 12:48). My confessor pointed to Mary, the mother of God, who looked at the body of Christ, bloody and bruised because of sin. Even in her sorrow she served Him. Were her hands not covered in His precious blood when she held Him close? Mary, who was full of grace, responded accordingly. What about me? Is my life a generous response to the grace I have been given? I cannot heal the whole Church, but I can respond and bless those who are nearest to me. Do I love well, and hold close the hearts who I come in contact with? Sisters, join my in praying today’s psalm, which has been a light in the darkness: “God indeed is my savior; I am confident and unafraid. My strength and my courage is the LORD, and he has been my savior. With joy you will draw water at the fountain of salvation” (Isaiah 12:2-3). [bctt tweet="I cannot heal the whole Church, but I can respond and bless those who are nearest to me." username="jacquiskemp"] How can you love those nearest you, today? Jot down a list. 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 getting late; my husband and I started to wonder if our dinner guests could not make it. They had not canceled our plans, so we just pressed on in getting the meal together. One by one each dish of our meal was ready, but still our guests had not arrived. I put the food in the warm oven to keep it hot, and started on some of the dish washing. My husband set the table, and the children looked anxiously out the window for their friends. The vigilant servant awaiting the arrival of “the Master” must have been doing a similar thing. He kept a look out for the arrival of the master, but also kept preparations in order (Luke 12:35-38). The interesting thing about this passage in the Gospel of Luke is that it comes right after the passage where Jesus tells us not to worry about the cares of this life. He then tells us what we should be concerned about: the moment when we face Him in eternity at our death or at the second coming of Christ. This is when the Master will come expecting us to be ready. When I am awaiting dinner guests, I am always vigilant about serving a good meal in a clean house, but am I vigilant about preparing my soul to face my Lord and my God? Is my treasure in Heaven or am I distracted by the cares of this life? The Gospel reminds me that I need to take a look at my heart and my habits, and see if my treasure is in the right place. I need rid myself of all that keeps me from Him, and replace them with new things that bring me closer to Him. I need to set aside time for regular prayer, and be more attentive in that prayer. I need to seek out the Sacraments to help me clean the house of my soul in order to be ready when the Master arrives. [bctt tweet="I need to seek out the Sacraments to help me clean the house of my soul in order to be ready when the Master arrives." username="blessedisshe__"] Take some time today to examine your conscience, and try to get to the Sacrament of Penance this week. Make the changes you need to make to be ready for His return. It could happen at any hour, at any moment. If you make the choice to be vigilant every day, He, in His great mercy, will find you ready. 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.