Despite my desire to live every moment of every day “plugged into” God and the life of grace, I had spent a great deal of time bumbling through thick clouds of confusion and transition. I gave countless testimonies and talks about the Lord’s faithfulness, but words do not always shine light on the darkness. I yearned to feel Our Savior’s presence once again. Fasting, prayer, frequenting Confession and Communion, Rosaries, Divine Mercy Chaplets . . . none of these things provided consolation. Grief and quiet desolation became the new normal even though God blessed my desires again and again, there were no big answers. One day I attended Mass on the feast of Saint Lawrence. More and more scientists, doctors, and even psychologists tell us both of the importance of humor as well as the value of meditation and prayer in daily life. Saint Lawrence, deacon and martyr, was a model of all these things. Tradition relates that he told his persecutors who were burning him alive, “Turn me over, I am done on this side!” During the Mass, I had the sense that Saint Lawrence was going to intercede for me. I decided to ask him for many things, as I would ask a father, brother, or friend. I have never experienced the Communion of Saints as I did that day. I not only received clear answers to prayers, big and small, but I also received an inner healing that I can only describe as miraculous. Sisters, I am not sharing this with you to impress you with the details of my prayer life. As I shared, at the time this happened my prayer life had been very meager and unsatisfying. Rather, I am sharing this with you because I firmly believe all the Saints want to be family to us. The story of Saint Lawrence, like all of the Saints, pulsates with profound truth. This everlasting truth echoes in our readings today. The divine, cosmic logic revealed in Jesus Christ and given to the Church leads us to cheerfulness, a life of abundance, and defeats death. The Saints want to encourage. They want to teach us how to live in communion with God. This heavenly reality is more real than anything we can see naturally. [bctt tweet="The divine, cosmic logic revealed in Jesus Christ and given to the Church leads us to cheerfulness, a life of abundance, and defeats death." username="blessedisshe__"] Let us pray that all of us will live in this certainty in our everyday lives and thereby touch Heaven with our eyes wide open. Saint Lawrence, pray for us. Sister Maria Kim Bui is a Daughter of Saint Paul, women religious dedicated to evangelization in and through the media. She is originally from Tempe, AZ, spent most of her fourteen years in religious life in the northeast, some time in Texas, and now was recently asked to serve as the director of marketing and sales at the Sisters' publishing house in Boston. Find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations Mystery: Belong found here.

I think on the phrase, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” In the First Reading, Jeremiah declares, “for they broke my covenant.” (Jeremiah 31:31-34) God’s chosen people had messed it up yet again following their own path, once again finding themselves broken and scattered. It needed to be fixed, of course. In the old covenant, God would send His prophets (enter Jeremiah) to call His people to be faithful again. They often would listen for a brief time and then fall back into their sinful ways. But God never meant to leave them in a broken place. He wasn’t giving up on them, and His plan for fixing the problem wasn’t a “what” but a “Who.” And only this "Who" could fix what had been broken. Throughout the Old Testament we can find God’s promises to His people, promises of hope and of love. In today’s reading Jeremiah continues on with this prophecy: “I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they will be my people.” (Jeremiah 31:33) And here is where you and I are invited to be a part of this story. We are those people, God’s people, the people of the New Covenant. His laws are inscribed upon our hearts. In coming to Earth, Jesus was the “Who” that fulfilled all the prophecies, incarnating the word and the laws. Bishop Robert Barron, in his homily on this verse, described Jesus as the ‘Law made flesh, which we then consume in the Eucharistic feast.’ As Catholics the law of Christ in an innate part of our identity. When God instituted this New Covenant with His people, He established through the Church a direct path of love and mercy with each one of us. What was broken was made whole and all of us were invited into deeper intimacy. We are called out of our own brokenness to unite with the New Covenant, to be a people who flourish and find our hope in the Sacrifice of the new covenant. [bctt tweet="We are called out of our own brokenness to unite with the New Covenant, to be a people who flourish and find our hope in the Sacrifice of the new covenant." username="blessedisshe__"] What a delight to be in the New Covenant! Pray a prayer of thanksgiving for this today. 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.

Generally speaking, I’m an easygoing person. But in certain situations, I can be downright stubborn and tenacious. Take caffeine, for example. Each morning, I insist upon getting at least one cup of coffee into my system before I do anything else. I’ve been known to go to great lengths to make this happen. Coffee is my mission; I won’t give up until it’s accomplished. Then there are the times when I’m driving through a busy parking lot looking for a space. I see someone walking towards me and realize she is heading to her car. On goes my blinker, and I sit and wait. Even if there is a line of people stuck behind me, I’m not budging until I get that space. On some level, then, I can relate to the tenacity of the Canaanite woman in today’s Gospel. (Matthew 15:21-28) She is a woman on a mission. She wants healing for her daughter, and she’s willing to do the equivalent of holding up a whole line of traffic to make it happen. Her tenacity is admirable. In the end, it gets her exactly the outcome she desired. But her story also challenges me to think about when and how I’m choosing to be tenacious. The quest for coffee and a parking space is fine, but I have to ask myself whether I am committed to the things that really matter. Am I tenacious about fighting for peace and justice? Am I tenacious about advocating for those who don’t have the rights that I take for granted? Am I tenacious about deepening my relationship with Jesus, and making that a priority? Am I tenacious about sticking with prayer even in the dry periods? Is it as important to my daily routine as caffeine is? The answers to these questions are a little sobering. Okay: they’re a lot sobering. I need to be more like the Canannite woman. I need to be stubbornly tenacious about what really matters: advocating for others to God and in the world, and drawing closer to Jesus. And that’s why this Gospel story is a humbling but powerful mirror. It shows me both who I am, and who I want to be. [bctt tweet="I need to be stubbornly tenacious about what really matters: advocating for others to God and in the world, and drawing closer to Jesus." username="blessedisshe__"] What do you need to be more tenacious about? Ask God for the wisdom to be stubborn about all the right things. Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of Taste and See: Experiencing the Goodness of God with Our Five Senses and Random MOMents of Grace: Experiencing God in the Adventures of Motherhood. 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.

In fifth and sixth grade, I played basketball on our parish school CYO team. As one of the tallest girls, I almost always played center. My coach would remind my teammates and I before each game, "Focus. Keep your eye on the ball. Pay attention. Do not get distracted." While my short-lived basketball career has ended, I find I still struggle with getting distracted in other areas, particularly in the spiritual life, as I try to follow Jesus more deeply in my life. In the Gospel today, we see what happens when distraction gets in the way and throws us off-course from following Jesus. Saint Peter had the best intentions when he swung his legs over the side of the boat and started walking. He felt the wind whipping at his sides, the waves splashing his face, or maybe thunder clapped so loudly that it made him hesitate. (Matthew 14:28-30) This much we know: Peter got distracted. In his distraction he focused on all that was going on around him which led him to take his focus off of Jesus bidding him to come. Like Peter, we also get distracted. Peter's distraction led him to doubt Jesus. Are there situations in your own life where you doubt Jesus? That He won't come through and provide, or your prayers will go unanswered? That maybe Jesus isn't really faithful to you? Or maybe that He has forgotten you? Perhaps maybe you are afraid to trust Him and leave that situation or person in His hands to deal with? Is there a situation or circumstance that leads you to doubt today? Pray with me throughout the day: "Oh Jesus I surrender myself to You, take care of everything." Let us ease into the sweet surrender of His arms, He who can keep us safe and sound from the storms. [bctt tweet="Let us ease into the sweet surrender of His arms, He who can keep us safe and sound from the storms." username="amoderngrace"] Can you write down a list of the biggest distractions from your prayer life? Look at the list and plan to make changes so you can form the habits of prayer and trust, and stay focused on Our Lord. 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 Catholics and women whose relationships have been impacted by sexual addiction. Find out more about her here.

The sun shone down brightly as I gripped the hand of my daughter. I glanced with exhilaration and yet terror down into the vast side canyon as we walked along the trail to Bright Angel Point, an overlook at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Up ahead my husband with our son in a sling on his back had made it to the overlook and was helping our other two daughters up onto a huge rock at the end of the point. I climbed up after the girls and sat down to get a better view of the expanse of colorful layers of rock that went down into the ground for nearly a mile and the rocks that jutted up from the canyon floor almost to the top. The wind blew gently through my hair as I gazed at the natural wonder created by the Colorado River over the course of millions of years, and I felt the splendor of God all around me. If the glory of God is shown so beautifully in nature, then how much more glorious will it be in Heaven? God’s handiwork in nature is just a small foretaste of the glory to be revealed to us, but the manifestation of divine splendor in the Transfiguration was the real deal. It was so glorious that Saint Peter tried to prolong it by offering to build tents. The Father responded with these words: "This is my beloved Son. Listen to him." (Mark 9:7) The moment ended, and they went back down the mountain. But Saint Peter never forgot the words of the Father. He had experienced the love of the Trinity, and he had nowhere else to go. Sure, he made some mistakes, but he never failed to repent and seek out the glory waiting for him. He listened to the Son to a martyr’s death, and now is in the presence of God for all eternity. Have you ever had moments where you experienced even just a taste of God’s glory—maybe one that you did not want to end? Jesus is also calling you—Listen to Him. What is He saying to you? If you follow His call, if you listen to Him, He will bring you into His glory, and His kingship shall not be destroyed. (Daniel 7:14) [bctt tweet="Have you ever had moments where you experienced even just a taste of God’s glory—maybe one that you did not want to end? Jesus is also calling you—Listen to Him." username="blessedisshe__"] Quiet your hearts today, Sisters. Quiet them and listen to Him. 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.

My daughter suspiciously eyed her zucchini as if it might jump into her mouth without her consent. Her sister sighed, dropping her fork on the table. “Not for me, thanks,” she muttered. My oldest son just sat mutely, miserably confronting the meat touching the vegetables touching the noodles. Only the youngest cheerfully scooped up bite after bite of the recipe I had been sure they’d all enjoy. My frustration mounted as my appetite retreated before their mournful, disgusted, displeased faces. Didn’t they care that I had worked hard to make a dinner that would please everyone? How could they be so ungrateful? We sat at a silent impasse as my husband and youngest son tried their hardest to have a pleasant meal. I remembered my grandmother’s voice as I was growing up: lectures to chew each bite twenty times to aid digestion, chiding to be sure to be members of the Clean Plate Club, reminders that some children in China had nothing to eat. I was the stubborn kid during those meals, hiding brussels sprouts in mashed potatoes, stashing chewy meat bits in my napkin under the plate, sometimes sitting all alone because I refused to finish what was before me. Even more recently, I begged God daily for the chance to become a mother as we struggled with infertility. Yet here I sat, staring down the answers to so many prayers, resenting them for not loving the dinner we’re sharing around a table in our home as we do every evening. How quickly I forget that God knows my needs and is caring for me. In today’s readings, the Israelites have already forgotten the suffering and pain of Egypt as they turn on Moses. “Would that we had died in Egypt!” they say. (Exodus 16:3) If God was the kind of parent that I am sometimes, He might have said to them, “Fine, have it your way,” and left them to their own devices. But He didn't. He gave them what they need; more than that, He gave in abundance. They were fed, because He loves them and cares for them, even when they complain. [bctt tweet="How quickly I forget that God knows my needs and is caring for me." username="dere_abbey"] Do we ever complain about our situation without remembering how far God has already brought us? He knows our needs, every single one, even before we ask Him. Instead of complaining, let’s try thanking Him for all He has done for us and trusting that He will meet our needs, too. Abbey Dupuy is the Assistant Theological Editor for Blessed is She and writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four frequently barefoot children. She muses about imperfect parenting, practicing gratitude, and celebrating the liturgical year with her young family on her blog. In her spare time, she enjoys running, gardening, coffee, and cookbooks, not usually at at the same time. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Virtues study found here.

I am deeply moved by the courage that Jeremiah and John the Baptist shared, even as they lived many hundreds of years apart. The dictionary defines courage as “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” Through the lens of our faith, the Catechism describes that “fortitude is the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. It strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life. [It] enables one to conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions. It disposes one even to renounce and sacrifice his life in defense of a just cause.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1808) What witnesses to fortitude we have in these two great prophets! In today’s readings, both face death because of their faith to the Lord and His ways. (Jeremiah 26:12-15, Matthew 14:11) Though they suffered much, and were hated and misunderstood by many in the world, they remained steadfast and faithful to God. It takes courage to live the Christian life. To live boldly, to love as the Lord calls us to love, and to speak in defense of Christ for the glory of the Kingdom—God, give us strength! Certainly the Lord calls each of us on a unique journey with Him; we likely will not be asked to die for our faith. Instead, our faith may be challenged in a million smaller ways, and each of those moments matter to God, too. Do we have the fortitude to live and proclaim what we believe as Catholics, sisters? May the Holy Spirit fill us with the courage to sincerely pray this prayer of Saint Jean-Baptiste-Marie Vianney: I love You, O my God, and my only desire is to love You until the last breath of my life. I love You, O my infinitely lovable God, and I would rather die loving You, than live without loving You. I love You, Lord and the only grace I ask is to love You eternally . . . . My God, if my tongue cannot say in every moment that I love You, I want my heart to repeat it to You as often as I draw breath. Amen. [bctt tweet="It takes courage to live the Christian life. To live boldly, to love as the Lord calls us to love, and to speak in defense of Christ for the glory of the Kingdom—God, give us strength!" username="inendlesssong"] On this Feast of Saint John Vianney, patron of priests, take a moment to call to mind the priests who have served and ministered to you over the years. Offer a prayer of thanksgiving for their vocations, and pray for an outpouring of fortitude upon all priests in their ministry. 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.

It happens in major and minor ways. You quickly bow your head to bless your food when out to dinner with friends and everyone stares awkwardly. You lose followers on Instagram because you post a picture of a religious icon. You feel attacked by a TV show that mocks what you believe. Your coworkers stop inviting you on their lunch walks because you don’t engage in gossip. Being rejected for our faith—for being Catholic—is part of the package. On several occasions throughout the Gospels, Jesus states clearly that those who follow Him will be rejected in this world. It’s a part of the mission, part of the sanctification, part of the cross. And it stinks. These moments of rejection can seem unfair, especially because most of us are not even being loud about our faith like Jeremiah was in the First Reading. (Jeremiah 6:1-9) We’re likely just living our normal lives. It is unfair. And so was the Cross that won our salvation. The small ways we’re rejected in our daily lives because of our faith—like the awkward silences and poorly-informed media—are inconvenient and unfortunate experiences. But those who are rejected in major ways—like strained or severed relationships, lost positions or jobs—taste a particular bitterness. Frankly, there’s not much comfort to extend in those circumstances except this: Jesus has walked this very road, and He’s walking it with you now. We see in today’s Gospel that Jesus was rejected and made fun of by the people He grew up with, the people who knew His family, the people who should have known Him best. How heartbreaking for our King. (Matthew 13:54-58) The pain you’re experiencing because your family or friends don’t understand why you became Catholic, or why you’re so “into your faith,” or why you suddenly started going to Mass again can be excruciating. Being ignored and reviled by the people you love most is a heavy cross to carry for Jesus. But He’s carried it for you, too. And He carries it with you now. [bctt tweet="Jesus has walked this very road, and He’s walking it with you now." username="to_the_heights"] Sisters, today let’s pray specifically for those who are experiencing this kind of rejection because of their faithful practice of Catholicism. May Christ be our comfort and our hope. 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.

“Trusting in His timing,” I’d say with a keen smile and a nervous flick of the hand. It was my go-to response whenever someone questioned the childless state of my marriage. But the truth is that I didn’t trust His timing at all. In fact, I did most everything I possibly could to force my own timing in the matter. I watched my diet, exercised more, exercised less, ate pumpkin seeds, cut dairy, stressed out about trying not to stress out. I did it all. For nearly ten years, I did it all. I remember the day my husband and I reflected on our decade-long wait; I waddled with an almost eight-month pregnant belly while he walked beside me on a warm summer evening. “I’m grateful for our wait,” I said to him with a smile. Because I see now all of the ways God used it shaped us, to strengthen our marriage, to mold us into who we are today. And though the tears and the trials and the longing seemed more like a curse while we were going through it, I see now that it was all a blessing, all a part of His glorious plan for our lives. I think we all have soft spots on our hearts, those pliable bits we are willing to give away to God. But what about the hardened parts? What about your intimate desires and your greatest fears and your wildest dreams? Are you willing to allow God to shape those pieces of your lives, too? I’d imagine that it would be freeing, really, to allow ourselves to bend and shift and sway under the unyielding strength of love, to abandon expectation or guilt or worry, to clearly and confidently say, “Your will be done.” So, whatever it is you are waiting for—a job, a house, a relationship—give it to Him. Allow yourself to be molded by the Potter’s hands, and then sit back and marvel in the ways in which He is shaping you today. (Jeremiah 18:5) [bctt tweet="So, whatever it is you are waiting for—a job, a house, a relationship—give it to Him." username="IamBritCal"] Trust in His timing, dear sisters. He is molding you into something beautiful. . . even in this waiting. 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.

"Awake my Soul" by Mumford & Sons comes to mind today. "In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die / Where you invest your love, you invest your life." These words have carried different meanings for me during different seasons of my life, but one thing they've always done is challenge me. In my current season, these words—and today's Gospel, Matthew 13:44-46—invite me to examine the way I'm living each day. Not in a big picture sort of way (though I sometimes do that, too), but in a small picture way. They ask me, Where are you investing your love today? What's important right now? and, Is this in accordance with what you value most—or is there disorder here? By small picture, I mean that this song and Gospel make me re-think my day-to-day priorities and how I'm spending my time. They make me question the choices I make, and whether I'm doing things out of fear (which I do, all too often) or out of love and faith. They inspire a daily examination of conscience, to be more aware of how I'm moving through my life. It's easy for me to live monotonously and to be less intentional and less aware of God's presence in my life, of how He's calling me, and of what that is that He's calling me to do. Then I get a wake-up call like today's Gospel or this song that literally says, "Awake my soul, for you were made to meet your Maker!" Remember to focus on how we can meet Him today in the little moments so that we will ultimately be reunited with Him in the biggest one. [bctt tweet="Remember to focus on how we can meet Him today in the little moments so that we will ultimately be reunited with Him in the biggest one." username="praymorenovenas"] How can you practice this today, Sister? Making note of how you spend your day-to-day time before bedtime? A little prayer journaling about it before the Blessed Sacrament? 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.

Have you ever looked out at the world, then looked at yourself and thought, What can I possibly offer? We often doubt our impact. Or rather, God’s potential for impact through us. We compare ourselves to people with different lives and a different set of gifts, or look at big situations and think, I'm too insignificant. I can’t [or don’t] do that! Enter Jesus and His parables. I'm no baker, so I had to look up what three measures of flour is. Turns out it's about 50 pounds, or 22 kilograms. That's a whole lot of flour. But just a little yeast can leaven, or raise up, the entire batch. Jesus' point? The flour represents the entire world, and we are the leaven mixed throughout, meant to raise up the little bit of world around us for the sake of the Kingdom. God meticulously designed each of us with a completely unique combination of gifts made for our sphere of influence, all so that others might rise up as part of God's call and Kingdom. But what happens if we look around at others outside our radius and decide we're not as good? What happens if we begin to think our pocket of influence is less important because it exists inside the walls of a home, or a school, or an office, instead of on some highly visible platform? Flat cakes and wanderings souls, that's what happens. It's good to remember that, historically, God didn't choose the most powerful, popular, or well-known people to make the biggest impact. Take His motley crew of disciples, for example, or the incredible ways He's revealed Himself to poor, uneducated, humble Saints. God chose them intentionally and purposefully, just as God chooses me and you. He equips the willing, not the winning. He can work literal miracles through our simple "yes," if only we give Him the space and freedom. So catch Satan in the act when he works to divert your focus to someone else's area of responsibility. Call him out when he tries to convince you that your role isn't important. The last thing Satan wants is for us to grasp even a fraction of all that God can do through us. So that's where we meet him in battle: working to recognize our God-given gifts and more freely offering ourselves as God's instruments, in whatever capacity He needs, wherever He's currently placed us. [bctt tweet="He equips the willing, not the winning. // @PosImperfect"] You may have to do some digging to discover or unpack your gifts, but they absolutely exist. If you're still uncertain, ask a trusted companion to help identify the gifts they observe in you, or check out a Called and Gifted Workshop to learn how to identify and apply your gifts to the world around you. 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.

Last August was a monumental month for me: after years of scrimping and saving until I could finally manage a down payment, I finally purchased my very own home. It was also late that summer that I first met my warm-hearted neighbor, who after introducing himself one lazy Sunday afternoon tacitly remarked that the former owner used to generously share of her strawberry patch with him and his family. I nodded politely, but inwardly I groaned. I had already been planning the pies, preserves, and other goodies that would come from my anticipated harvest. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I wanted those sweet, juicy berries all for myself, or at least, I was only willing to share once I knew that I could have first pick. I worked hard to save for this house, I thought, and those strawberries are mine. Fast forward a few months, to the thick of winter, buried under our first heavy snowfall. I huffed and puffed as I shoveled my way down my driveway. Once again I found myself face-to-face with that same neighbor. In a beautiful moment only those of us in snowy climates can fully appreciate, our gazes met, he pointed to his snowblower, and then to my shovel, as if to say, Hey, can I take care of this for you? I gratefully nodded . . . and then I remembered those strawberries. I had been so reluctant to share something small with him, yet here he was willing to offer his time (and his sweat) for my sake. Those memories are particularly vivid for me in light of today's Old and New Testament readings—the First Reading about Elisha’s barley loaves (2 Kings 4:42-44) and the Gospel reading about the two fish and five loaves of bread. (John 6:1-15) What I want you to hear in today's readings, sisters, is that God multiplies our generosity in ways we can never imagine: "They shall eat and there shall be some left over." (2 Kings 4:43) We need not fear giving away those things to which we cling so fiercely. You might not be clinging to strawberries, but perhaps there is something else on your heart of which God is gently urging you to let go. [bctt tweet="God multiplies our generosity in ways we can never imagine."] Take a moment to write it down and ask for the strength and trust to give it away. Karen Schultz hails from the Land of 10,000 lakes, where she is often found in or near one of them. As a doula, lactation educator, and FertilityCare Practitioner, she finds joy in helping women to embrace the gift of their bodies. Downtime is found in quiet adoration chapels, farmers markets and gardens, listening to bluegrass music, and embracing the diversity of Minnesota’s seasons. You can find out more about her here.

Every spring, our yard is full of dandelions. Every organic control method we have tried has failed—the dandelions keep coming back with indomitable persistence. The children love to pick them and arrange them in small vases all over our house. I cherish their little bouquets, and I’ve resigned myself to a yellow yard. We pulled one up to examine its long taproot, marveling at how the dandelion’s design helps it succeed in poor soil, in burning sunlight, with little water—all the places where other plants would fail. What tenacious plants they are! If we actually planted them and gave them a fertilized field in which to take root and spread, they’d take over the world. The man in today’s parable sowed good seed in his field, but his enemy came and sowed weeds there. (Matthew 13:24-30) Now with all the plants growing up together, it’s impossible to uproot the weeds without damaging the tender wheat. It’s a gardener’s nightmare. Aside from the obvious problem (having an enemy who would do such a thing!), the gardener will be working in a weed-filled field all season, and he will have extra work at harvest time to separate the weeds from the wheat. Each of us is a fertile field, full of rich soil that’s planted with potential. As we grow, we learn to love, to have faith, to be prudent in our choices, to forgive. Our genetic and spiritual inheritance also includes traits that incline us toward less virtuous growth—jealousy, maybe, or resentment, or self-loathing, or harboring grudges. These are our weeds. Each of us has a unique set, growing up alongside our wheat plants. What are we to do? No matter how hard we work, the weeds are always sprouting up. Should we become discouraged and give up trying to nurture the wheat? Or resign ourselves to being overtaken by weeds? No. Through prayer and hard work, we can continue to encourage those wheat plants to thrive even among the weeds. We can work to contain the weeds as we put our energy into helping the good plants to grow strong and healthy. In the end, Jesus will separate out those weeds and collect that wheat we have grown for the storehouse. Our wheat helps feed the Kingdom. We might never eradicate the weeds entirely, but the wheat is what really matters in the end. [bctt tweet="Our wheat helps feed the Kingdom."] Focus on the wheat. Abbey Dupuy is the Assistant Theological Editor for Blessed is She and writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four frequently barefoot children. She muses about imperfect parenting, practicing gratitude, and celebrating the liturgical year with her young family on her blog. In her spare time, she enjoys running, gardening, coffee, and cookbooks, not usually at at the same time. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Virtues study found here.

The parable in today’s Gospel is one that can be so familiar to us that we zone out halfway through reading or hearing it. (Matthew 13:18-23) But let’s take a closer look. We know that the Sower is God, and we are the seeds. The Lord’s intent is that we grow and mature into strong plants that yield fruit for the Kingdom. But the ground in which we are sown plays an important role. In Jesus’ first example, the seed is sown on a path. Perhaps we encounter a Church teaching we have a difficult time comprehending or we feel a call from the Lord that intimidates us. We hear the Word of God but don’t understand it, and the Evil One comes running down the path to kick away what was sown. In the case of the seed sown on rocky ground, we hear the Good News and are delighted by it. But we don’t have space for roots. Perhaps we have recently entered the Church with fervor, but pushback from family members is discouraging, or we suffer a loss and hand ourselves over to despair. As soon as something difficult arises in our lives, we wither. Next is the seed sown in the thorns. We encounter the Lord, but there is so much junk in our lives that we can’t keep sight of Him. Habitual sin, financial stress, and broken relationships threaten to steal the peace He planted in our hearts. We get wrapped in the thorns of worry, materialism, and false security. Finally, there is the seed sown in rich soil. This is the goal. We want to hear the Word of God, understand it, receive it with joy and trust, and bear bushels of beautiful fruit. Sisters, each of us has been all four seeds. We’ve withered and we’ve flowered. So what can we do to ensure that the Word of the Lord is sown in the fertile soil of our hearts every time we hear it? We can water our souls with Scripture daily. We can receive the nourishment of the Sacraments. We can expand our knowledge of the Faith and root our minds deeply in Church Tradition. We can invest in Godly community to support us as we grow. We can weed out sin and vice. We can joyfully bask in the love of the Son. [bctt tweet="We can joyfully bask in the love of the Son. // @to_the_heights"] Let’s pray and labor for a fruitful harvest of our lives. Olivia Spears lives in Kentucky where 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.

I sometimes think about what it would be like if I were a disciple of Jesus during the time when He walked the Earth, in the flesh, pre-crucifixion. The disciples lived and breathed with Jesus. They came to know Him intimately and called Him their friend. They walked with Him, slept with Him, ate with Him, and gave up their life’s responsibilities for Him. They walked away from their boats, their families, and their futures because they believed. They had an immediate and intimate connection with Him. They had a supernatural relationship with Jesus. When Jesus comes before the crowds and tells His stories in parables, the disciples don’t understand why He speaks to the crowds in this way. Jesus explains that they, the disciples, have been granted knowledge that the commoners in the crowds don't have. He tells them they are special. And they were; it was through these men, and those who came after them, that our faith was transmitted. The New American Bible has the parts of this reading labeled under the subheading, "The Privilege of Discipleship." It was a privilege for His disciples to hear and understand. In the time of Jesus it wasn’t a privilege given universally. But today we also have that privilege. We have the opportunity to enter into an intimate, supernatural relationship with Jesus. We have been invited into a friendship that allows us to walk with and talk to Him daily. We have the privilege of discipleship. Are you one of His followers, or are you a member of the crowd? Are you eating and drinking and walking with Jesus daily, or are you one of the masses showing up on Sundays and then walking away? Are you willing to turn your back on the parts of your life that prevent you from being a true disciple, or are you okay to just sit by and hear about Jesus from other people who know Him a little better than you do? You have been invited into discipleship. [bctt tweet="You have been invited into discipleship."] Will you accept the invitation? Dr. MaryRuth Hackett is Director of Operations for Blessed is She. She loves historical fiction, dark chocolate, watching her children play soccer, a good cup of coffee (decaf please) and the quiet of the early morning. She holds a PhD in Educational Psychology and has a passion for helping parents understand the way their children grow and develop. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: Leader Guide found here.

The lights were dimmed and a love song began to play over the speakers. Holding my breath, I waited for my brother and his new bride to step onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. As I sat at the table with glittering lights and full champagne glasses, I looked over at my husband and memories flooded my mind as I marveled at how far we'd come—from the lonely, tearful nights as a single woman feeling like God would never answer my prayers to the years Brian was fighting cancer and I cried with fear that my husband would be called back to God too soon. Then I looked over at my children. I recalled the trouble we had conceiving, the secondary infertility, and the miscarriages we endured . . . all the heartache that came before we were blessed with four beautiful children. Then I glanced over to my mom who, just a year ago, was also fighting cancer. Now She was looking so beautiful about to step onto the dance floor with her newly-married son. I had a hard time holding back tears of gratitude. That moment at my brother's wedding hit me once again as I read today's Psalm response, "Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing." It is easy to rejoice and believe in God's promises when things are going well, but when we are in the midst of trials and carrying heavy crosses, that is when the true test of faith comes. It's during those tough times that I think about Saint Paul's words in the First Reading, "[We are] perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:9-10) When the cross has been heavy, God has always been there giving me the strength to endure. I'll admit that I'm not always the best at believing and trusting, and some prayers and longings of my heart have not been answered as I had hoped. I sometimes struggle to make peace with that, but God is good. He knows that I can be overwhelmed by my emotions. He is patient and gentle with me and knows exactly when I need an extra hug and when I am being stubborn and need a little tough love. He reminds me to have faith that the joyous times will come once again. [bctt tweet="He is patient and gentle with me. // @bobbi_rol"] If you are struggling, pour your heart out to God and let Him console you. If you know someone struggling, be their consolation. 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.

What’s the deal with Mary? This was a question I asked a lot in my early twenties, when I was looking into joining the Catholic Church. Having grown up a Protestant, the idea of Marian devotion always seemed bizarre and heretical to me. I have since made peace with the Church’s teaching on Mary. I even have icons of her hanging in my house and wear a miraculous medal around my neck, but I haven’t really gotten to know her. Until this year. She keeps popping up everywhere! From my spiritual director encouraging me to develop a Marian devotion, to priests in Confession telling me over and over to ask for Mary’s help in living my vocation, to our entire Blessed is She team doing a Marian consecration in May, I am getting the feeling the Holy Spirit wants to show me how Mary can help me live this Christian life. Mary is our guiding star, constantly pointing us to our main goal—her Son. Jesus gave her to us as our Mother for a reason: He knew what a mighty help her intercession would be to us in getting to Heaven. So then why on Earth does Jesus appear to be snubbing His Mother in today’s Gospel reading? Someone tells Jesus that His mother is outside and wants to speak with Him. And His reply? “Who is my mother? . . . . Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my sister, brother, mother.” (Matthew 12:48, 50) At first, this response sounds disrespectful. But far from being rude, Jesus is actually showing us just how special His mother is. To be in a relationship with God we must be obedient to Him. No human has obeyed the will of God more perfectly than Mary who, as the Mother of God, enjoys an especially intimate relationship with Him. Mary’s perfect obedience to God is the example we should all strive to follow so that we too can be a part of God’s family Knowing and doing the will of God is not always easy. Have you tried asking for Mary’s help? I am slowly remembering to do this and whenever I do I am not disappointed. Mary knows how sweet it is to do the will of God, and she is eager for us to do the same. [bctt tweet="Mary knows how sweet it is to do the will of God."] Let’s let her help us. Talk to your Mother today. Anna Coyne is a Saint Paul native, wife, mother, and convert to the Catholic faith. When not chasing after her two young children you can probably find her playing the piano, knitting, tripping over wooden train sets, or writing. Find out more about her here.