I wish that I had more faith and confidence in God's word, especially when it comes to speaking the truth. I wish I would remember God's words to Saint Paul today to not be afraid to speak the truth, but so many times I've failed. I still vividly remember occasions in high school when I was silent during conversations where others were derided and made fun of for their faith in Christ, yet I stayed silent. After all this time, that occasion still stings my heart. I was afraid of what others would think. Even though I knew the truth, I wouldn't speak it. I was silent. Unlike Saint Paul, I'm not in danger of being imprisoned or stoned. If I had spoken the truth back in high school, it probably would have cost me nothing, my fears largely unfounded. But I still feel that pain today of not having had the courage to speak truth in that situation, and in many situations since. In 2017 I have opportunities to speak the truth in many different situations, most of which I have no reason to be afraid. But I admit that oftentimes in heated situations with friends, relatives, or acquaintances online or off I feel that fear to speak at all, even though I don't face the consequences of Saint Paul. If I speak the truth of God's word regarding hot button topics or important moral issues such as abortion, birth control, sacramental marriage, the dignity of being created male and female I'll possibly be scoffed at, maybe made fun of, and most cutting in today's society: be considered intolerant and uncool. But today's words of God spoken to Saint Paul are being spoken to us right now, in 2017. Do not be afraid. Go on speaking, and do not be silent for I am with you. God is with you and me, speaking these words to us right now. He is giving us the confidence to act on faith, to speak His truth to our world today. And yes, speaking and proclaiming the Truth with how we live our lives does not guarantee us an easy life. Jesus' words that we will weep in this world are to be taken no less lightly than God's promise to be always with us. We may weep, we may be persecuted, we may be laughed at and scorned, but God will still be with us. Our hearts will rejoice, and no one on earth will be able to take that away from us. That is the faith we live, that is the hope we live. [bctt tweet="We may weep, we may be persecuted, we may be laughed at, but God will still be with us."] What truth am I afraid to proclaim in my life? Do I fear repercussions, do I fear having to change my own ways of thinking or acting? Remember that today God is calling us to not be afraid and to speak truth through faith in Him. Christy Isinger is the mom to five lovely, loud children living in the Canadian wilds. You can find out more about her here.

Today is a great feast, the Ascension of the Lord, and its readings are filled with references to the power we have as believers in Christ and recipients of the great gift of the Holy Spirit. For me, power is a tricky word. I am much more comfortable thinking He is made perfect in our weakness than receiving the power the Lord bestows on us. And yet, when I stop to consider it, what good is it to celebrate the Resurrection if I am not willing to accept its victory? If we are triumphant with Christ in the life of the Resurrection, we are champions, and we walk in the confidence of one crowned with victory. If we believe our God defeated death, ascended to His throne to reign forever, sent us the Holy Spirit to grant us the power to carry on His work, and commanded us to use that power to make believers of everyone we meet, then truly, what more are we waiting for? Just as the Angels asked the Apostles as they stood awed by His Ascension. Maybe we are waiting to feel stronger. Or for our call to be more clear. Or for the "nations" to look bigger than the faces we see every day in our own homes, neighborhoods, schools, grocery stores. Whatever it is that holds us back from being bold in our proclamation of Christ, it is time to let it go and accept the power we have been given. There is someone, right now, whom you encounter every day, who needs you to offer him/her the mercy of Christ, who needs to know the battle for life has been won! Are you believing in the power you have to bring transformation to that person through the proclamation of the Gospel? Let us look up to Heaven today in great wonder at the majesty of our Risen Savior ascending to take His place at the right hand of the Father. But let us return our attention quickly to the Earth and the ones in our midst waiting to know the glory of Resurrection life. And let us ask ourselves, what are we looking for, waiting for, if we have been promised the power we need to proclaim Him to all nations? [bctt tweet="Go out. Make disciples. We've already won. // @colleencmitch"] Then let us get to the work. Go out. Make disciples. We've already won. Colleen Mitchell is wife to Greg and mother to five amazing sons here on earth. They serve in Costa Rica where they run the St. Francis Emmaus Center, a ministry that welcomes indigenous mothers into their home to care for them pre and postpartum. She is the author of Who Does He Say You Are. Find out more about her here.

True confession: I have spent most of my life being confused by the Holy Spirit. As a kid, I had only the barest understanding of this third person of the Trinity. From Scripture, I had a vague image of the Spirit as a dove, or a tongue of flame, or wind; the Spirit seemed to move in quickly, linger memorably, and then dart out again. Beyond that, though, it was one big mystery. When Jesus talks about the Spirit with His Apostles, I suspect they were confused as well. His words seem so very abstract, sketching broad outlines of a picture that only time would reveal in all its colorful detail. I imagine the Apostles exchanging confused glances, no one wanting to be the one to raise his hand and ask for a more thorough explanation (or maybe I’m just projecting here). But when I was in my mid-twenties, reengaging with my Catholic faith after years away, I began to understand the Spirit in an entirely new way. As I learned more about charisms, spiritual gifts, I started to understand that the Spirit has gifted every one of us with a unique ability to bring God’s goodness and love into the world. These gifts vary widely; one person may be gifted in teaching, another in encouragement, another in art, another in leadership. I started to see the Spirit operating in my own life when I thought deliberately and consciously about what my own gifts were, and how, by using them, I was helping to bring a little more of God’s goodness into the world. And I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of others’ gifts. My soul has been cracked open by beautiful pieces of music. My knowledge of the world has been deepened by the teaching of others. In emotionally trying times, people with the gift of wisdom have thrown me the lifeline of a new perspective. All those experiences have helped me see that there are a million ways that the Spirit is present in the world, guiding us to do great things in the service of others. So when I think of the Holy Spirit now, my default image is no longer a dove or a tongue of fire. But I do still think of movement. I think of the dynamic energy of God, pouring into the world through every one of us. [bctt tweet="When I think of the Holy Spirit, I think of movement, the dynamic energy of God."] When have you encountered the Spirit working through someone else? Look for it today. Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of Random MOMents of Grace: Experiencing God in the Adventures of Motherhood and Mary and Me: Catholic Women Reflect on the Mother of God. Ginny lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, two boys, and about thirty thousand Legos. You can find out more about her here.

This is me, sitting with my jaw open, amazed at Saint Paul. By his words and life Saint Paul brings people to Christ and His Church. Conversions of heart happen, whole households are saved, the Spirit flows and convicts people. But me? I don't seem to have that same success rate. I have a deep desire to bring fallen-away or luke-warm Catholics back to the fullness and beauty of the Catholic faith. I love being Catholic, and I want others to embrace the truth, beauty, fun, and quirkiness of our faith the way I have because I want it to enrich their lives the way it has enriched mine. I want them to know and love God the way I do, actually I want them to know and love Him more than I. But often I cower, I fumble, I feel inadequate, and worry about if I look overly enthusiastic. Saint Paul was bold. He took chances. He wasn't afraid of what people thought of him. I don't know about you, but I want to be more like Saint Paul. I want the Holy Spirit, promised by Jesus, to fill, convict, and guide me the way It did for Saint Paul. Maybe you have the same struggle: the desire to live, love, and speak in a way that brings others to Christ and His Church. Maybe you're also stymied by fear and therefore unlikely to move. Let's pray for one another during this season of Easter, and let's ask Saint Paul to pray for us. May the Holy Spirit fill us, move us, and help us to bring honor and glory to God. [bctt tweet="Saint Paul was bold. He took chances. I want to be more like him. //@BonnieEngstrom"] Whom can you share your bold faith with today? Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker and homemaker. She lives with her husband and six children in central Illinois. You can find out more about her here.

Her heirloom table, draped in purple cloth, was heavy with platters, ham, deviled eggs, watermelon rind pickles, the requisite crystal dish of Cheetos. There were fruit crisps with whipped topping and mashed potatoes, green beans with salt pork and inexplicable molded salads with fruit bits suspended in Jell-O. There were always at least two desserts and at least one layer cake. Unlimited quantities of impossibly sweet tea flowed from her green glass pitcher as she flitted from one chair to the next, refilling glasses and urging second, third, even fourth dinner rolls and more gravy and larger helpings of dessert. The only thing in short supply was elbow room. Adults crammed around her table, a card table stuck on the end for the kids. The people on the crack between the two surfaces balanced their plates, straddled the table legs and hoped for the best. She added a second card table in the living room if there were a lot of extra people that day. There were always at least a few extra people. Nana had a knack of finding those who longed to belong, and she invited them as many times as necessary to get them to come. She made us all feel that we were doing her a favor by eating at her table, even though she never sat down with us. She prevailed on us. Nana’s gift was including. Once you were included, you were fed (and fed and fed, no matter how full you claimed to be). We don’t know, of course, if Lydia was a natural hostess. What we do know is that hospitality was her response to her encounter with the Gospel. How do we respond to our experience of Christ? Sometimes, I hide behind my natural introversion and avoid issuing invitations, opening the door, or answering the phone. Hospitality doesn’t always come easily to me. Still, I know that making space for others is building the Kingdom of God. People are hungry. If we have food, we should feed them. When we include others at our tables, we serve Christ in a direct, simple way. Folding chairs and Cheetos are fine, because it’s never been about perfect hostessing. What matters is our willingness to share what we have and our trust that God will use it. [bctt tweet="Making space for others is building the Kingdom of God. //@dere_abbey"] What do you have to share today? Abbey Dupuy writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four while relying on coffee and grace. You can find out more about her here.

One of the most effective lies the Enemy ever convinced me to believe is that I am alone. It comes in various forms—you’re on your own, you can’t count on anyone, nobody really cares about you—but the bottom line is always the same: You are alone. Maybe you’ve heard it, too. Our circumstances are most likely different but the Enemy is startlingly uninventive. He’s feeding us all the same lie, trying to convince us that neither people nor God Himself can be trusted and that at the end of the day, it’s all up to us. But this belief is in direct opposition to the words of Jesus, who is Truth. He tells us in today’s Gospel that we are never alone. That He has given us an Advocate to be with us always. Always. As in, He never leaves us alone. Not in a difficult marriage or in your single years, not in your work or your still unmet desires. God is in it with you. You are never alone. In my first few years as a single youth minister in a new city, I became particularly attached to a family in our parish. This couple and their children taught me about love and marriage and grace-filled parenting and having hard conversations and celebrating everyday life. They gave me a home and a family when I so longed for one of my own. And when they moved away, I felt their absence painfully. But in the loneliness, the Lord began to teach me about His unfailing presence with this simple verse: I will not leave you orphans. We are not orphans because we have a Father. He communicates with us in His Word, He loves us through our friends, He makes Himself totally present to us in the Eucharist, and He sends us the Holy Spirit to be our Comforter and Guide. You and I are never truly alone. We have never been alone. [bctt tweet="God is in it with you. You are never alone. // @thebethdavis"] Are you feeling lonely? Stop by the Adoration chapel, ask a friend for coffee or simply pray Come Holy Spirit throughout the day. Beth Davis is a lover of Jesus, an aunt to five beautiful humans, and a full time youth minister in Flagstaff, Arizona. She is passionate about winning the hearts of young people for Jesus through discipleship. You can find out more about her here.

After earning my degree in broadcast journalism, I worked a few journalism jobs in Phoenix and then moved home to Los Angeles to further pursue my career. I served California Pizza Kitchen pizza after fettuccine after strawberry lemonade while I submitted countless cover letters and résumés in hopes of chasing my dreams of success. Months passed. Not one door opened. Nobody called. It felt like I was standing in a dark hallway, waiting for something, anything, to open up. Maybe you've felt that way too, sister. I was tempted to start kicking doors in. I wanted to be on the road to success. Months rolled by and I received an unexpected call—an invitation out of the blue to do full-time ministry with high school girls. It is difficult to say what I would have chosen had I received the phone call into ministry while working a job in journalism that I liked rather than waiting tables. It is easy now to look back and see that the Holy Spirit kept those journalism job doors shut. We all have seasons when we stand in that hallway. It is nearly impossible to take heart in those seasons and think, “Well, nothing is going through because the Holy Spirit isn't in the mood.” That does not bring great solace in the seasons where nothing seems to give—in our waiting to enter into our vocation, waiting for children, waiting for the right house, the right job. It reflects clearly twice in today’s first reading that the Holy Spirit prevents things that are not His will. He prevents us from going places we are not to go—only if we allow ourselves to be led, as Saints Paul and Timothy did. They did not force it; they let God be God and guide. They prayerfully trusted God to open the right doors and keep the wrong ones closed. He lovingly invites us to do the same. [bctt tweet="There is a great plan at work. // @emwilss"] Trust. Patience. Obedience. The doors will open at the right time. Even if we suffer and can't see it, there is a great plan at work. 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. You can find out more about her here.

"You'll get there," says my Spiritual Director, "but it's going to take time. It's a life-long process." I listen with an internal sigh. Time. Patience. Not my strong suits. "Love one another." I get that part of today's Gospel. But lately I'm stuck lately on the ". . . as I love you" part. The deeper and surer I grow in my faith, the more I feel that my heart's understanding of God's love for me barely scratches the surface. Of course, I have plenty of head knowledge. But my heart still flounders as I read the words of Saints positively brimming with God's love, living in its assurance with unshakable confidence. And I wonder, what does that feel like? I want to know it personally. I want to know how—now. Can I ever open my heart enough to both give and receive Eternal Love with that bold confidence? Knowing the time it will take me to learn, knowing that I need spiritual baby food for a long while, God answers me with just a tidbit from this very same Gospel. Learn Love, child, by imitating my Son's loving actions. In imitating Christ, our hearts learn Love that can't be taught in words. Jesus died to Himself—literally. He called us friends, not slaves. Love is teaching with charity. Dying to self. Graciously accepting another's expression of love. Stretching past our comfort zone to serve others. It's meeting someone begging in their need, someone who has literally nothing to give you in return. And as you stop to offer food or sustenance wrapped in tentative love, as your hands briefly touch and your eyes meet, you're overwhelmed by the ache of true Love in your heart. And you realize that instead of nothing, this soul has given you a glimpse of Heaven. This I hold close, even as I remain frustrated by the snail-like pace of my progress, by all the still-hardened patches of my heart. To love others as He loves me means to discover His love through actively working to love others. A paradox, yes. But a beautiful one, in which I suddenly comprehend that I am the needy one, begging for soul food as my Savior passes by. He reaches out, and our hands meet, and our eyes meet; I drink in the Love which He gives freely for the sake of my destitute soul, knowing that I can give Him literally nothing in return. [bctt tweet="I am the needy one, begging for soul food as my Savior passes by."] Do you struggle to give or receive Love on this path of growing in holiness? Choose one simple way to imitate Christ's actions and open your heart to the Love God desires to give you in return. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife, mom, writer and sometimes soldier whose real passion is equal parts faith and chocolate. You can find out more about her here.

What is it that makes our joy complete? Living in the love of Christ, living within His commandments. The joy we are promised isn’t easy, isn’t simple—but it is complete. Saint John hears Jesus in the Gospel, and he goes on to live out the commandment—evangelizing with a mission of complete joy. Joy isn’t simple happiness. Both Jesus and Saint John knew that well. Jesus commanded Saint John from the Cross: “Behold, your mother.” And Saint John, we are told, took Mary into his home without question. I am not that good at listening to simple commandments from anyone, even the Lord, and I almost never obey without question. But that is the straightforward guidance Jesus gives us: Listen. Listen, accept, obey. The commandments that we are asked to follow are not easy. Loving each other and living in relationship are hard. Though I am single and could easily come home and tune out after a long day, being in relationship with God means that I should never be tuning out completely. I need to keep my heart open to Him and to those who make up the Body of Christ with me. Though I am not bound to anyone in marriage, I am still bound sacramentally to the whole Church through my Baptism and Confirmation. Living in relationship is not easy, and Saint John excels at it again and again throughout the Gospels and after the Resurrection. The Beloved Disciple’s openness to individuals (as we see in his deep connections to Jesus and Mary) and the community (as we see in his epistles) model for us a way toward complete joy. The steps to complete joy that Saint John’s example teaches are easy to list, but about as hard as they come to put into practice. I imagine I will spend the rest of my life learning how to live them out. [bctt tweet="Listen. Follow. Love. // @br1gid"] Listen. Follow. Love. Brigid Hogan is a midwestern graduate student who finds peace in lakes, the Mass, and fiction when she isn’t ensconced in schoolwork. Find out more about her here.

Growing up as a Protestant I believed in the idea of Sola Scriptura—by Scripture alone. That means the Bible provides the source for Christian teaching, information necessary to live the Christian life, and is the only authority. Pastors and theologians can give teaching and counsel, but Scripture is the deciding word. Throughout my childhood and young adolescence, I didn’t see any problems with Sola Scriptura. It wasn’t until my college years that it presented questions. I attended a Christian university where the students and faculty's views ranging widely on moral and theological issues, each one assured of their grounding in Scripture. I was baffled. If Scripture is the only authority, and all these conflicting views were supported by it, whose interpretation was correct? As I ventured to examine Catholicism, the blend of Scripture and Tradition increasingly made sense. Instead of viewing this blend as the Church’s attempt to brainwash me or prevent me from studying Scripture on my own, I felt relieved! It made sense to me to follow a teaching authority that can clear up all the conflicts that naturally arise when a diverse body of humans delve into sacred Scripture. Today’s First Reading shows us the early Christians deferring to the authority of the Church. A disagreement arose as to whether or not Christians should observe the Mosaic Law (our Old Testament). Saints Paul and Barnabas packed up and headed out to Jerusalem to bring the matter to the Church leaders, not out of laziness or a desire to follow blindly. They submitted to Church authority with complete trust. You might be asking, “Why should I submit to the Magisterium? (The teaching authority of the Church.) After all, Church leaders are fallible humans too.” It is true that our priests, bishops, and the Pope are all human beings and can make mistakes. But when it comes to the Church's official teachings, we believe the Holy Spirit uses the Magisterium to carry on Jesus’ teachings. “Christ endowed the Church's shepherds with the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals.” (CCC 890) We trust the Church because we believe Jesus is guiding Her. Scripture is divinely inspired by the Holy Spirit, and that same Spirit is guiding and directing the Church today. Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “Remain in me, as I remain in you.” Let us remain in Him by placing our loving trust in His body, the Church. Let us remain in Him by placing our loving trust in His body, the Church. 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 teaching piano lessons, knitting, tripping over wooden train sets, or writing. Find out more about her here.

My work is holy, in fact, all of our work is holy. Saint Therese of Avila reminds us: "Know that even when you are in the kitchen, our Lord moves amidst the pots and pans." I hate washing the dishes, so this keeps me present to God's presence. My field is in medicine, the complex meeting place between spiritual and corporal works of mercy. God also moves amidst the patients, the overtime, the filing, the emails, the commutes, the meetings, and the business trips. He calls us to do our work with love, humility and charity—to bring Him back into the workplace through our actions and intentions. Even on days when I slept through my alarm, missed the bus, left my wallet behind, missed a deadline, spilled, my coffee, lost my cool, forgot a birthday, hit my funny bone, got stuck at all the red lights, and I was ready to throw in the towel, He still calls me to do my work with love. In today's first reading Saint Paul gives us a perfect example of determination and perseverance during what can definitely be called a pretty bad day at work. Ousted from the city by an angry mob and left for dead, he does not throw in the towel. In the immortal words of Frank Sinatra, he picks himself up, dusts himself off, and tries all over again. While I doubt Fields and Kern had Saint Paul in mind when they wrote their crooner's classic, a particular line of the song stands out: "You gotta work like a soul inspired until the battle of the day is won." Today, Lord, remind me that the work you've set before me—in my home, in my field, in my education—is a battlefield and that every hardship, every bad day I have is part of Your plan for me to bring glory to You. Help me infuse all the work of my day with love and dedication. Help me pick myself up, dust myself off, and find You in the mission You have given me. [bctt tweet="Help me pick myself up, dust myself off, and find You in the mission You have given me."] Let's pray that prayer together. Molly Walter is a Catholic convert, wife and mother to one crazy five year old, a new baby girl and four saints in heaven. She uses her degree in Theatre more as mother than she did while in the business. She enjoys reading, knitting, and rescuing third class relics from Goodwill. Find out more about her here.

During this Easter season, you may have heard these Latin words set to some of the most beautiful music by Palestrina: "Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te, Deus." I first heard this as a teenager when the choir I was in sang it for a spring festival. I was drawn to the melody, the harmonies, and the words of a language that seemed so old and mysterious to me. "As the deer long for springs of water, so my soul longs for you, O God." At my parish, this is sung during the Easter vigil, and it's so fitting, isn't it? After a long desert of a season, the Church reminds us of the truest thirst we will experience, not for water but for communion with God. And it's not a one time thirst and quench, but a life-long desire to have Him. In today's Gospel, Christ offers us the Spirit to meet our needs. Over and over again we hear Him reminding us of the Holy Spirit who will come to be with us and fulfill that longing for God. Here and now. When the followers of Christ who walked with Him no longer had Him by their side, when the early Christians denounced pagan worship and stood firm in their faith, when missionaries crossed borders and seas to share the Good News. When we, in our seemingly mundane and simple lives do the hard work to bend our will to His. In all of those times and all of those people, when the temptation to think that God is far from us in some distant castle in the sky, the Holy Spirit was there. God dwells within us before we dwell with God in Heaven. It’s a beautiful intimacy. Pentecost Sunday is fast approaching, and the Church, in her wisdom, is reminding us to look at our relationship with the Holy Spirit. Are we trying to quench our thirst for God with things? Shows? Gossip? Relationships? Let’s redirect our hearts and find peace and satisfaction in the knowledge that we are temples of the Holy Spirit: that God is living within us. [bctt tweet="God dwells within us before we dwell with God in Heaven."] In quiet reflection today, sit and invite God to dwell within you. Go and receive the beautiful intimacy of the Sacrament of Confession. Reconcile with God and make that space within filled with His grace and love. 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’s the Fifth Sunday of Easter, and by now, we as Church are still happily reveling in the glory that is the Resurrection. We are victorious through the King, we are strong and united and, like the men spoken of in the First Reading, we are sent. We are ready. It’s so wonderful to soak up the joy of Christ’s Resurrection, and sometimes we forget that we just lived through Lent. We tend to forget that, not too long ago, we were wandering in the desert. We were uncertain, afraid, and expectant. That’s why I love the exchange that takes place in today’s Gospel. The Apostles are so real, and they present us with real-life reactions to knowing and loving Christ. There they are, sitting with Jesus after walking with Him through all His public ministry, and they still don't understand. Jesus promises them that He will have a place for them in Heaven. And what do the Apostles do? They ask for clarification; they want other signs; they express hesitation. Isn’t that what we do, too, sisters? We are so used to people breaking their promises in our fallen world that we can have a hard time trusting God on His Word. We have been let down so many times by people we love (and, mind you, we have let people down countless times as well). We have been made promises only to have them broken in painful ways. This makes us cynical and jaded, and that can invade our approach to the Lord. Even when Jesus has made good on His promise to rise from the dead, we are still skeptical. What’s the antidote to this flawed projection upon the Lord? He lets us know today: “Believe me.” There’s no easy way about it. The only way to grow in trust of the Lord is to actually start believing Him. When we believe Him, we will “do the works that [Jesus does], and will do greater ones than these.” [bctt tweet="The only way to grow in trust of the Lord is to actually start believing Him."] As we continue to celebrate the Easter season, let’s remain hopeful in the midst of our imperfect trust, knowing that belief in Christ’s promises is not foolish or doomed, but will lead to resurrection, healing, and great miracles. Olivia Spears is a middle school religion teacher turned SAHM who is married to her high school best friend. You can find out more about her here.

How can I know the way? Lord, really, I cannot do this thing You are asking of me, I don’t have the strength to endure this trial, in fact, I am not entirely sure I even know what it is You want me to do. How can we know and live the way? Oh, we of little faith! Sisters, do any of you also feel fear and trembling looking ahead at what God asks? Even at the same time we feel awe and wonder, still overcome with joy from Easter and the Resurrection? I wonder, was Saint Thomas’ question one of faith, even if fearful? Jesus had just a moment ago told the group of Apostles, “Do not let your hearts be troubled . . . Where I am going you know the way.” Saint Thomas breaks the silence. He asks “how.” I know how this ends. Unlike Saint Thomas—who at the time couldn’t know how the story ended—we have the privilege of being on the other side of history. We know Jesus rose from the dead. We know Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We know how to tap into the life of sanctifying grace through the Sacraments. We know the Way. And still, despite knowing how the story goes, I don't know how to know the way, to really know it inside, deeply and without fear. My heart hides under fear even as we celebrate the Easter season. My joy for our Resurrected Lord is muted by living in fear of living the Way. Am I going to live like the many who simply could not move past their doubt and disbelief while Jesus walked in their midst? Here we can look to Saint Thomas for our example. Saint Thomas who wasn’t sure, but wasn’t afraid to ask. He who wasn’t sure, but trusted the Lord and stayed faithful. How, Lord? How does this work out? Increase my faith. Give me your peace, so that my heart will not be troubled. Hold my hand and show me again the Way. Help me to trust you. [bctt tweet="How, Lord? How does this work out?"] Sisters, whatever trials you are enduring right now, ask Jesus to show you the way to live them, the way to embrace them, and the way to turn them over to Him. Gina Fensterer is a wife, daughter, mother, friend, homeschooling mama, and Colorado native. You can find out more about her here.

Not one to mince words, my brother said flatly over the phone, "Look, he was just . . . not the right guy for you." One by one my siblings had come forward in the aftermath of a disastrous breakup. The kind where you crumple and wait for the ceiling to lay the final blow on your smooshed heart. They came forward out of love, conveying a series of excoriating messages: he wasn't the one for you; it's a good thing you took a break because look at how he reacted, reinforcing the fact he's not your future husband; you did the right thing, no matter how hard it felt; there will be other love out there. If I could have, I would have proven them all wrong. My heart sat in that in betweensie place maybe many of you who have loved and then paused have sat. It was a rotten summer, and I hated their rotten reassurances. I was reminded of all this when I read today's Gospel. Our Lord sets up a triple combination there in the last line. Messenger --> Jesus --> God the Father. Whoever receives the one I send, receives me, and whoever receives me, receives the one who sent me. How often have you thought, "Oh, this part of Scripture doesn't apply to me." Or perhaps, "This Church teaching is out of date and I'm not obligated to follow it." Maybe none of you are raising your hands. Maybe it's only me. Who are Jesus' messengers? His Apostles, His disciple, Peter, the rock upon which He built His Church. Our Holy Father today, our cardinals, our bishops, our priests. Me? You? I'm not saying that my family was acting "in persona Christi" here. But I am saying truth comes to us through God's beautiful use of messengers. The Church's wisdom on social teachings, the Scripture's teachings on how to treat others, our family's gentle (or not) suggestions on our love life, our pastor's sermon about birth control that we are struggling to live out in our relationship. When we receive Jesus' messengers, we're receiving Him and God the Father. Let's be more open to hearing the message. [bctt tweet="Truth comes to us through God's beautiful use of messengers."] Are there messengers that are trying to bring God's love and teachings more immediately into your life that you'd rather ignore or dismiss? Nell O'Leary is an attorney turned stay-at-home mom to four lovelies. She and her husband live in the great city of Saint Paul. You can find out more about her here.

A season of big changes is coming up in my life. If I try to imagine six months from now, I cannot; there are so many unknowns looming ahead. Of course, none of us can really know what our lives will look like in six months—or tomorrow, for that matter, as every breath is a gift from God—but many of us probably have a decent guess. As for my family, we hope that my husband will successfully complete his PhD program, receive a job offer, and we’ll pack up our lives and move to who knows where. (The Lord knows where.) I don’t know if we will move closer to our families, as we both deeply desire, or farther from them. I don’t know what the opportunities for my own work will be in our new location. I don’t know what parish we will attend, what community we will be a part of, or where my son will go to preschool. But, one thing I do know: God is God, and He has this. Today’s readings encourage us to seek and to follow the will of God, to follow Christ. In the First Reading, we hear that the Apostles sought to know the will of the Father through fasting and prayer. We are called to these practices, too, sisters—and not only during Lent. When we earnestly seek to know God’s will, we invite the Holy Spirit to move in our lives. In Saint John’s Gospel reading, Jesus shares how His earthly mission, too, was doing the will of the Father. “I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say and speak.” It is Jesus’s submission to our Father’s will that ultimately grants us salvation: “Not my will but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42) God’s providential plan for our lives is beyond imagining, sisters. With its joys and sorrows, twists and turns, may we experience peace of heart, knowing that “whoever follows [Him] will have the light of life.” Like the Apostles, let us be sent forth by the Spirit in this Easter season. Let us share with others the joy that comes from following our risen Lord. [bctt tweet="Like the Apostles, let us be sent forth by the Spirit in this Easter season. // @inendlesssong"] Raise your voice in prayer with the Psalmist: “May Your way be known upon the earth.” Yes, Lord God! Jesus, have Your way in me. Elise Howe is a devoted wife, momma, and musician currently living in NYC, though she will always be a midwestern gal at heart. You can find out more about her here.

Sometimes as we read through a biblical passage, we find a seemingly random note contained within. But it is never insignificant. There is always a reason the author mentions a particular place, a specific time. In today’s Gospel, we are told the context for Jesus speaking with the Jews is the feast of the Dedication taking place in Jerusalem, and that it is winter. This would be Hannukah, the Festival of Lights. It commemorates the rededication of the second Jewish temple after it was desecrated by Antiochus (1 Maccabees 1:20-64). Only a single flask of undefiled olive oil was found in the temple after its reclamation by the Jews. This was used to light the menorah in celebration for God’s favor in returning the temple to the Jews. The amount should have lasted one night, but, miraculously, it lasted eight. So what does this have to do with today’s reading? The Jews were gathered to celebrate the rededication of the temple, the center of Jewish worship. There in their midst was Jesus, the New Temple (John 2:19-20) and the center of our Christian worship. They were celebrating the miracle of the oil lasting 8 days, and yet for all the miracles Jesus had been performing they couldn’t see Him as the Christ. In order to believe in Jesus, we need the light of faith burning brightly in our lives. Faith in Jesus brings light to our dark places, when times are bleak and when we feel lost and bumbling in the dark. With even the tiniest spark of faith, He will be there to guide us so we will not stumble as we continue to follow Him. God gave light to the Jews at Hanukkah during a time of darkness. He sustained them beyond their reasonable expectations. He goes above and beyond for His beloved people. Do not doubt that He will do the same for you. As Christ says in the Gospel, His sheep hear His voice, they know Him and follow Him, and they shall not perish. We shall not perish, sisters, when we have Christ's light in our lives. Jesus is that Light which has come into the world. The Father has sent Him as the New Temple to take the place of the old. “In him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shone in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it.” ~John 1:4-5 [bctt tweet="Faith in Jesus brings light to our dark places. // @Muffin_Dome"] May Christ be your source of light whenever you find yourself in a dark place in life. Laurel Muff is a creator and appreciator of beautiful things. She resides with her husband and daughters in Northern California. You can find more about her here.