A good shepherd knows his sheep. The wild ones who tend to stray, the skittish ones who stay close. The weakest lambs who need to be carried, the aging sheep who need extra help. A good shepherd knows life and death. The blood and sweat of birth, the tense moments when survival hangs in the balance. The sudden stop or lingering pain of death, the way a body changes at the end. A good shepherd knows seasons and surroundings. The dark clouds that carry storms, the whipping winds that signal change. The promise of a distant pasture, the babble of a nearby brook. A good shepherd knows danger and disease. The wolves that prowl at night, the sickness that threatens a flock, the harm of hired hands who do not care. You know something of the same. In the work you’re called to do. For the people you’re called to love. You were created for this time and place, with particular gifts for particular needs. With eyes that see what no one else can. With ears attuned to what others cannot hear. You know yours, and they know you. Just like the good shepherd, you rise each morning to lay down your life again. Even in small ways that the world never sees. But the Father sees you and loves you. He knows your heart longs to be like the One Who is Love. If you listen, you will hear His voice. What you long for will lead you. He promised you this. His promises do not fail. He is the Good Shepherd. [bctt tweet="He promised you this. His promises do not fail. He is the Good Shepherd. // @laurakfanucci"] Today, when you struggle with whatever challenges arise, remember that you were created and called to follow the Good Shepherd. Remember that He knows you and you are His. Draw strength from His love to care for the ones He calls you to tend. Laura Kelly Fanucci is a mother, writer, and project director for the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. She is the author of several books including Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting and the co-author of Living Your Discipleship: 7 Ways to Express Your Deepest Calling. You can find out more about her here.

Today’s Psalm was read at my father’s funeral sixteen years ago, and I have held these beautiful words close to my heart, meditating on them whenever I feel like I am entering a valley of difficulty or a time of suffering. My father bravely battled cancer for over a decade, never once complaining about the pain or the discomfort I have no doubt he experienced. He had learned during the many valleys of his life to trust in the Lord’s plan, following the path God laid out for him. He would quote the Psalm on his hardest days: The Lord is my shepherd. There is nothing I shall want. Another favorite saying of his was, “If you have the Lord in your corner, what else is necessary?” I have lost count of the number of times he said that God never gave more than one could handle, so if God thought Joe Green could handle cancer, then it was his job to show up and fight every day. My father lived out his faith even though he walked through the dark valley. And we will all be called to do the same, in some way, shape, or form. So what is your dark valley? How is the Lord God calling you to trust Him? What radical act of faith through even the worst of suffering is being asked of you? Can you trust that you will want nothing when He is your Shepherd? God called my father home to Himself on Ascension Thursday, 2001. At the time of the calling, Dad was surrounded by his wife of 36 years and his children, who prayed him into the arms of his Good Shepherd, answering a prayer he had held dear to not die alone. Whether we sit in the still waters or churn in the valley of the shadow of death, we are not alone. We are never alone. [bctt tweet="What radical act of faith through suffering is being asked of you? // @marylenaburg"] Our Shepherd will lead us, if we can accept His voice, and obey His example. He will lead us home. Mary Lenaburg married her first (and only) blind date going on 27 years, is a full-time liturgist, and parents one adult son navigating his path on earth and a special needs daughter safely in Heaven. You can find out more about her here.

In the Gospel today, Jesus turned to the twelve Apostles after many of his disciples walked away to see if they, too, wanted to leave. But Saint Peter said those sweet words, “[T]o whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Saint Peter knew full well that he needed Jesus’ help, and that without Jesus, he would be lost. He provides us with the prime example of what happens to us when we try to do it alone. He failed to walk on water when he took his eyes from Jesus. He denied Christ three times when Jesus was no longer by his side. He hid in fear until Pentecost, and only with the aid of the Holy Spirit after Pentecost, did Saint Peter confidently go about doing the work of God as he did in the First Reading from Acts. I know full well the feeling of failure when I stop relying on God, when I turn my gaze from Him and try to make it on my own. Too many times I have tried to press through a hard situation on my own without seeking His divine aid and consolation. Like today, when I had a rough morning getting people out the door: this one won’t get dressed, that one is taking her own sweet time with her breakfast, the other one can’t find her boot, I accidentally dump the box of hats and mittens all over the floor, we run in five minutes late, and that one begins to sob about dropping her mitten back there. And I want to pull out my hair and look to the heavens and cry, “WHY?” It is that moment of looking to Heaven that I remember Him. Maybe if I had thought of Him sooner, I would have been more charitable to those with whom I have been entrusted. Jesus tells us in today’s Gospel, “It is the Spirit that gives life, while the flesh is of no avail.” He is telling us that only with the aid of the Holy Spirit can we live the life of holiness to which we are called. On our own, we are flailing about, but with the Spirit we can do the hard things with joy and peace. Living in the Spirit did not save Saint Peter from hardship: he still underwent imprisonment, ridicule, and martyrdom, but he did it knowing that true life comes from the Spirit. Even when this Christian life is hard, the world thinks we are crazy, the truths are hard to grasp, and the struggle to love is real, we need to remember that there is no one else to go to. Only Jesus has the words of eternal life. And eternal life is what we are meant for. [bctt tweet="Only Jesus has the words of eternal life. And eternal life is what we are meant for."] How are you trying to manage without Christ? Is it in the big, hard things? Or in the little things day to day? Try today to remember that He is with you in all things at all times, and stop trying to do it alone. Susanna Spencer once studied theology and philosophy, but now happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul. 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.

Today's First Reading is shocking. The level of humility demanded of Saul, the depth of his repentance, the courage shown by the persecuted Christians whose participation God necessitated in order that Saul-turned-Paul's news commission might come to fruition...it's all shocking. The Lord patiently waited on so many 'yeses' so that His plan might be permitted to play out. Shocking, too, is the plot twist that God defers to our free will to follow our misguided self-importance. Can you imagine the torment in a Father's heart who, seeing Saint Paul's full potential and the scope of his mission in life, would have to suffer through "Act 1: The Murdering Years." God waited. In humility and tender mercy, He waited. He waited for Saul, and, when he arose from his fall, blind and drenched in mud, he ministered to him through His own body, the Church, drawing him into mysterious participation of that same Body. Saul became Saint Paul. The unthinkable transformation had occurred. As we read a little further into the day's readings, we encounter the truly unthinkable transformation: the Eucharist. Is there any greater stumbling block to the Christian faith than this? That God would humble Himself to become not only a man, not only a slave, but a morsel of unleavened bread, utterly simple in order to meet us in our poverty. Certainly Saul the murderer to Saint Paul the martyr is quantum leap enough. But for the God of the Universe to die for us and to remain available to us under the form of simple, flat bread? It is shocking and profound, even more so than a murderous Pharisee preaching the Gospel. But His love is reckless. And His desire for us is so total, so all-consuming, that He does not hesitate to do this impossible thing. I long for you to be with Me. I want you to eat Me, to take Me into your very body and assimilate Myself into your self. My God, it's too much. He impossibly fills the cells and fibers of a tiny piece of bread with the love that created the Universe. The love that humbled Himself to become one of us. The love that further humbles Himself to remain one, with us. [bctt tweet="He fills the fibers of a piece of bread with the Love that created the Universe. // @jkuebbing"] Jesus, give us the courage of Saint Paul that when we encounter You in the Blessed Sacrament, we too may fall at Your feet in recognition of the One Who loves us, Who calls us, and Who will never leave us. Jenny Uebbing is a freelance writer and editor for Catholic News Agency. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband Dave and their small army of toddlers. You can find out more about her faith, thoughts on bioethics, and potty training failures here.

Our brief reading from Acts of the Apostles reads like a high definition short film about faith in Our Resurrected Lord. Saint Philip is clearly someone who has grown nimble in life in the Spirit, and he is so spiritually in tune that he acts immediately. He sees and understands the needs of another person just by observing. And his testimony is so compelling that the man wants to stop their moving vehicle in order to be baptized. Our society frowns more and more on sharing faith. We can share about anything else we cherish, but the Christian-take on the meaning of life is often unwelcome. Yet believers of all time know that what the writer of the book of Hebrews says is true: Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. This is why we will always have people like Saint Philip around us, if we have eyes to see. When I think of Saint Philip, I always think of my first youth minister. After fifteen years in my religious community, I am more and more grateful for how that youth minister allowed the Spirit to lead and transform him. Like Saint Philip, he has staked everything on Christ Jesus. Like Saint Philip, he is a radiant example of faith and joy in Our Resurrected Savior. The thing is, my youth minister is so humble he only laughs when I try to express how inspiring his life of faith is to me. I bet Saint Philip was the same way. I bet he shifted the focus back on the power of the Spirit. Sisters, we often do not know the impact our lives have on the world around us. This is probably for the best. God works best with humble, agile instruments. But sometimes we allow ourselves to get discouraged because we are trying to compare ourselves or to measure success. Our First Reading today ends with the Spirit snatching Saint Philip away after his mission is fulfilled. No balloons or an appreciation plaque. This is God’s way. And God's way is beautiful. So let’s look to Saint Philip and to those who are like him around us. Let’s continue to give everything to Christ. Then let us allow the Spirit to give us everything we need for the journey. He is sure to give us peace, courage, and joy in the Resurrected One. [bctt tweet="Let us allow the Spirit to give us everything we need for the journey. // @SrMariaKim"] Don't give in to the temptation of comparison of your friend's talents or your sister's gifts. God made you for your own mission: to give Him honor and glory. Let's stay focused on that. 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, and is part of a bilingual evangelization team of sisters serving in Texas. Find out more about her here.

"The Father who dwells in me is doing his works." God is at work. Do you believe it? Do you let the Father do His work within you? In today's Gospel, Saint Philip says, "Show us the Father and that will be enough for us." Jesus helps him understand that since He and the Father are one, Saint Philip has already encountered the Father and witnessed the Father doing His work in and through Jesus. By virtue of our Baptism, Jesus is within us. Therefore, the Father is also at work in us. Do you recognize God's work within you? Are you allowing Him to work in you? I think our hearts often become closed to God working within us. It is easy to want to do everything ourselves and think that we have to do it all by ourselves or else nothing will happen and nothing will get done. It can feel frightening to surrender to something that takes faith to believe, especially if we are unsure that this Presence is truly with us, working for and in us for our good. Despite all my years as a Christian, Jesus could replace my name with that of Saint Philip's in today's Gospel, "Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip?" Like Saint Philip, I think my actions do not always show that I truly believe in God's saving power or His loving presence in my life. However, through Philip's lack of understanding, Jesus more deeply explains that whoever believes in Him will do His works and even greater ones than He has performed. Jesus assures Saint Philip, "Whatever you ask in my name, I will do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it." And even through our lacking understanding and belief, God draws close to us to increase our faith and bring about a plan of goodness in our lives. If only we allow the Father to do His work within us. [bctt tweet="Do you recognize God's work within you? Are you allowing Him to work in you?"] On this special feast day, we ask the intercession of Saints Philip and James that each of us may more deeply increase in faith and joyfully surrender ourselves to our Loving Father who is accomplishing His plan of goodness within us. Mary Catherine Craige is a lover of creativity and learning new things. When she is not guiding the development of young children through Montessori methods, you can find her behind her harp, taking an art class, or writing silly poems. You can find out more about her here.

Aside from still being the Easter Season (happy still-Easter!), today is also the memorial of Saint Athanasius, fourth century Bishop and Doctor of the Church. Saint Athanasius is best remembered as a hero in the fight against the Arian Heresy. But the words “heresy” and “heretic” get thrown around these days with a disregard for exactitude that Saint Athanasius surely couldn’t condone. Let's look deeper into what these terms are and what they mean for our faith life. Today’s Gospel is the one in which Jesus tells us, “I am the bread of life.” For many people, this is difficult teaching to accept. It’s not something we can see or touch, it’s something we must believe on Faith. Our Faith is a gift of the Holy Spirit which we can choose to accept and nurture, or which we can choose to compromise and reject. The Catholic Church recognizes five sins against Faith: apostasy, heresy, schism, incredulity and voluntary doubt. (CCC 2088-2089) Apostasy is when a baptized Christian abandons not just the Catholic Church, and the teachings of the Catholic Church, but all faith in Jesus Christ. Heresy is when a validly baptized Christian maintains belief in Jesus, but refuses to believe one or more of the major tenets of the Catholic Church (the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Immaculate Conception, the Assumption, the Real Presence, papal infallibility, etc.), is aware that those beliefs are contrary to the teachings of the Church, encourages others to share those beliefs, and refuses to be corrected. A person formally found guilty of heresy can be excommunicated. In schism, a person separates from the Catholic Church, and defies the authority of the Pope, but without repudiating a defined doctrine. The Society of Saint Pius X is a current example of schism. Finally, incredulity is when a person maintains her Catholic identity, but refuses to believe in or submit to a particular teaching of the Catholic Church. Incredulity is the sin of doubt plus disobedience, not to be confused with “difficulty” which is when we have trouble understanding or submitting to a teaching, but don’t actively disobey. Difficulty isn’t a sin. It’s a process. So, how do we avoid the sins against Faith? Well, we don’t leave the Catholic Church, and that avoids a lot of them right there! And we follow the example of the people in today’s Gospel and say to Jesus, "Sir, give us this bread always." We ask for Faith, especially when we find teachings difficult to accept, and we trust that it will come. Study the Faith; join a Bible study; ask the Holy Spirit to give you eyes of Faith to see clearly where you may have doubt. Bring up doubts you have in the confessional. Kendra Tierney is wife to a good man and mother to eight pretty good kids. Together they are fixing up a tumbledown hundred year old house. She's a writer, and a blogger, and a graphic designer, and a homeschooler, and a regular schooler. Her word art is available here. Her book, A Little Book About Confession for Children, is available here. Find out more about her here.

I'm a Midwestern gal born and raised. Particularly in Detroit, there are several delicious sweet treats that have been a part of my food experience. A cold glass of Vernors pop. A bag of salty Better Made potato chips. Or my personal favorite, a bowl of Sanders Bumpy Cake ice cream with Sanders milk chocolate hot fudge. But we know with all things in life, they pass away. It won't last forever. I cannot take a bowl of ice cream with me to Heaven someday. Today's Gospel account takes place shortly after the Miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000. The crowds are looking for Jesus. When they find Him, Jesus tells them, "[Y]ou were looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate loaves and were filled." Jesus implies the crowds are looking for Him because He gave them something that filled them. In this case it was physical loaves of bread. But as a Eucharistic people, we know this is a foreshadow of the Holy Eucharist: Jesus' Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Jesus then tells them to not work for food that perishes, but rather, for the food that endures for eternal life. There isn't much lot this side of Heaven that will "endure for eternal life." Food, clothes, money, cars, relationships, or followers on Twitter, we cannot take any of it with us. What is the food that will endure for eternal life? Working for the food that endures for eternal life is about receiving a gift, about "believing in the One whom God has sent." Jesus is THE gift par excellence sent from the Father. Sisters, too often we try to have it both ways. We desperately want to be connected with Jesus but also want a steady diet of the things of this world. But we can't work and live for the things of this world, for they won't last. Instead, we must work to sustain our hearts and minds. Only Jesus can be the sustaining source of our identity and fulfillment. The One Who is bread broken and given for us will help us be bread that is broken and given for others. [bctt tweet="What is the food that will endure for eternal life?"] Today let's pray for a renewed hunger to be in communion first with Jesus, not the world. Let us set our hearts and minds on the things that will prepare us for eternal life. Patty Breen is a runner, youth minister ordinaire, and thinks old movies are the greatest thing since sliced bread. When not fundraising for World Youth Day, she is learning to find grace in all things. You can find out more about her here.

There have been times in my life I have read this Gospel story and wondered how these disciples could not have recognized Jesus. Why were their "eyes prevented from recognizing him"? Clearly, they had known Him as more than a social figure or mere acquaintance in the way they were mourning His death, so what blinded them to who He was that evening as they walked along the road to Emmaus? But I have to admit to myself that I am not unlike them. Far too often in my life, I walk with my head down, defeated, wondering where God is in all that I am battling, and I fail to see Him walking faithfully beside me. I am all too quick to lament the cross I am burdened with rather than look with hope for the presence of the resurrected Jesus in my life. But in His mercy, Jesus does not let my lack of spiritual insight or even my self-centered preoccupation keep Him from me. Not only does He still draw near to me, but He stays near with an insistent presence until I really “see” Him, until my eyes are opened to Him, walking there beside me. He comes to me in His Word and generously reveals truth to me. He sits with me at the table and breaks bread with me, both in the Sacraments and His presence in the Eucharist, and also in all the tangible, physical ways His presence weaves itself into my days. And I realize that I have a choice. I lament my foolishness, or I can choose, like the prophet David and the Apostle Peter and the disciples of Emmaus to turn my opened eyes back to the wonder of the Resurrection and claim it, to let go of the moments I did not recognize Jesus there beside me, and embrace the joy I have in His constant presence instead. I can choose to turn back and proclaim the risen Christ to the world and let them know that He is alive, walking this road with us, and inviting us with a generous love to see Him. What great hope there is for my foolish heart in this Jesus, who can neither be held by death nor my lack of sight, but continues to appear in my life and offer Himself to me again and again until I look up and truly see. [bctt tweet="Jesus comes to me in His Word and generously reveals truth to me."] How do you see Jesus? Do you recognize Him today? 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.

Do you ever completely get used to the feeling of leaving the stability of dry land, stepping first with one foot and then the other into a small, unsteady vessel? No matter how many times you’ve done it, no matter if you step boldly over the side or tentatively extend your leg, inching your foot down until you feel the bottom of the boat, it rocks under your weight. You adjust your balance, holding your arms out, maybe reaching back for a hand still on land to steady you. Any support you find there just reminds you of what you’re leaving behind. Land doesn't move. Water never stays still. It's hard to keep your footing when what's under you is constantly shifting. Add to this insecurity the gathering darkness of evening and a strong wind chopping up the sea into whitecaps, and a three or four mile row on the water doesn’t sound like a delightful excursion. What if the waves get bigger? This boat seems very small—what if we capsize? What if we drown in the dark and no one sees us and no one even knows? Then, there’s a man coming toward you. Suddenly, it's Jesus—the only one whose presence can bring calm, the only one whose glance can reassure you that all is well (or if it isn’t yet, it will be soon). Things should be fine now—except they aren't, because Jesus is walking on the water, which just makes the whole experience even more nightmarish. Then, He speaks: It is I. Don’t be afraid. Don't be afraid . . . and how could you be, any more, once those words in that voice land on your ears? He’s here. He’s with you now. Don’t be afraid. Before you can reach out and pull Him into your boat, you’ve somehow reached the shore and your fear is already receding and you’re hugging your companions and feeling almost giddy with relief. No matter how bad it almost got, no matter how hopeless and frightened you were, He had you all along. [bctt tweet="He’s here. He’s with you now. Don’t be afraid."] He has you. Don’t be afraid. 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.

Every time Jesus announces one of these pop quizzes in my life, I fail it. Sometimes I catch myself in the act of failing it, and I wrestle to get my heart into a proper disposition of surrender and trust and peace but always, always—it feels inevitable—I freak out. God I need You to do this now. NOW. Lord, how long? I can't handle it, I can't manage it, I can't endure it. . . . And Jesus asks me the same rhetorical question that He asks Saint Philip, pointing out the blatantly obvious situation like the one which I AM CURRENTLY FREAKING OUT ABOUT LORD and asking Him, almost casually, "What can we do about it, you and I together?" "It" being this massive thing that there is no earthly solution for. It's almost as if the Lord, pointing out to the amassed crowd of hungry followers, is gently taking hold of each of His Apostles' chins, patiently directing their attention to what He is about to do. Because that need you have? That impossible, insanely complicated situation? He already knows what He is going to do about it. And He wants us to watch Him. To lay our little contributions, our small and insufficient solutions at His feet with deep, expectant joy, and to watch Him provide. So He asks, and He waits. And then Saint Andrew, the first pope's brother, a guy with no need for the spotlight and a humble and complete trust in Jesus of his own, he kinda clears his throat and points out a kid in the crowd with a lunch bag full of bread and fish, maybe feeling a little sheepish but overcome with the confident love that He can if He wills it. And He does will it. And so the combination of that little mustard seed of Saint Andrew's faith, Saint Philip's desperate assessment of the crisis at hand, and the childish generosity of the least of these becomes one of the most powerful parables in the Gospel. Jesus takes our next to nothing, and He works with it. He multiplies. He provides. I see a progression of the spiritual life in these three characters: Saint Philip's anxiety, Saint Andrew's tentative and expectant faith, and the little boy's trustful act of total surrender. And I hope to emulate the little boy with every situation that arises. [bctt tweet="Jesus takes our next to nothing, and He works with it. He multiplies + provides. // @jkuebbing"] Lord, help me to skip straight to the finish of the next test, throwing my loaves and fish into Your lap without hesitation, smiling while I wait for You to move. Because You always do. Jenny Uebbing is a freelance writer and editor for Catholic News Agency. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband Dave and their small army of toddlers. You can find out more about her faith, thoughts on bioethics, and potty training failures here.

In the First Reading today, Saint Luke writes about the confidence of the Apostles. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that these are the same men who slept instead of prayed during Jesus’ Agony in the Garden. These are the men who walked so closely with Jesus during his three years of public ministry, yet abandoned Him during His suffering and death. These are the men who locked the doors to the Upper Room, hiding in fear after the Crucifixion. And this is Saint Peter, the one whom Jesus chose to be the rock on which He would build His Church; the one whom denied Jesus not once, not twice, but three times. Jesus sent His Apostles into the world with the mission to proclaim the Good News. But the twelve Apostles were arrested, questioned, and ordered to stop teaching in Jesus’ name. Can you hear their confident reply? These Apostles have been transformed, and they know that they must obey God rather than men. These are the men who have been strengthened by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. These are the men who were miraculously released from prison. These are the men who believed and received the gift of eternal life. These are the Apostles who are interceding for us from Heaven so that we might believe and receive eternal life. Won’t it be so wonderful to meet them face to face? Until then, let’s invite the Apostles to walk with us as we journey through the gift of this day. Are you distressed by financial difficulties? Afraid of a medical diagnosis? Pained in a relationship? Troubled in your vocational discernment? Broken hearted in grief? Exhausted by your weaknesses? Ashamed of your sinfulness? The Father hears your cry, and He does not ration His gift of the Spirit. In the Nicene Creed, we profess the Holy Spirit as the Lord, the Giver of Life. Let Him breathe new life into your pain today. And be confident that He can work in your life the same way He worked in the lives of the Apostles. [bctt tweet="The Father hears your cry, and He does not ration His gift of the Spirit."] The Father transformed their exhaustion, fear, and shame into a new life in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. How will He strengthen us today? Rose Coleman is a contemplative in action who delights in all things beautiful. Her adventurous heart has traveled many places—from circumnavigating the globe on a ship during college to some years in the convent as a religious sister. Exuberant from her childhood, she is an elementary school teacher who learns so much from her students. You can find out more about her here.

Do you know that there are points in the ocean that no light can reach? Thanks to my curious six year old I can tell you more about the midnight zone of the ocean than I probably realize, but I find it fascinating all at the same that there are parts of the world so dark that the light of our sun can't reach. I often wonder if we could read the minds of the creatures who live at that level if they'd even believe us if we told him the surface is illuminated by the light of giant ball of plasma 93 million miles away (thank you "They Might Be Giants" children's songs for ensuring I'll never forget that fact). One of the more regular complaints I hear from my non-Christians friends is that Christians don't do what they say. They complain that we're meant to be pro-life, but don't do pro-life things. They complain that we're meant to be loving, but don't do loving things. They complain that we're meant to be charitable, but don't do charitable things. They complain loudly that we don't do Christian things. But here's the thing . . . it's not about what we're not doing, it's all about what they're not seeing. Have you ever walked out of a dark room into bright sunlight? It hurts your eyes, and it's hard to see until your eyes have acclimated. This is why those people complain that we're not doing what we believe in. They're in the darkness trying to see into the light. Occasionally they might be venturing into the light themselves, but for the moment they can't see. In fact, there are many people swimming in a midnight zone of their own making—so far away from light, so surrounded by the dark that the thought of light and warmth seems an impossibility. These are the people who tell us our motives are wrong or our actions incomplete, not because they are right, but because they cannot see. We do not need to share on social media each time we donate to a worthy cause, clock in our volunteer hours, or sign the paperwork to bring a child into our homes through fostering or adoption. We don't need to proclaim the amazing things we do in the name of God every day whether we're brave missionaries in foreign countries or brave missionaries in our own homes, work places, and schools. We are not called to proclaim our own goodness, but His, to others and in prayerful praise. It doesn't matter if people don't see what we're doing, because when we walk in the light with God, everything is illuminated by Him. [bctt tweet="When we walk in the light with God, everything is illuminated by Him."] Do you feel criticism over whether or not you're "christian enough"? Look inside and see if you're listening to what God is asking of you. There's your answer. 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.

Today we celebrate the Feast of Saint Mark the Evangelist. An early believer of Jesus, having spent significant time with Saints Peter and Paul, tradition tells us that the Romans asked him to write down the teachings of Saint Peter. His writing, known as the Gospel of Mark, is considered the oldest and shortest of the four, having been written somewhere between 40 and 70 AD. I am always struck by the zeal the early Christians showed as they traveled to the four corners of the earth spreading the Gospel of Life. Can you imagine the courage required to go into a foreign land, not speaking the language or knowing the customs? What faith these young evangelists had. They knew they were called to speak the truth with love and had complete trust that the Holy Spirit would make their pathway clear, giving them whatever was needed to preach the Gospel. I have trouble evangelizing within my own home, let alone going to a foreign land to speak about my faith! I have been known to break out in a cold sweat when challenged about why I believe in God and why I choose to be Catholic. Saint Mark’s life was not without hardship; he, too, had moments of doubt. As he traveled with Saints Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary trip, Saint Mark hesitated, fearing the toil ahead of him. How many times have I hesitated to go forth and speak about Jesus and His teachings? How many times have I walked away feeling the effort would be too much? I remember the first time I got up to speak at a local Youth Ministry event. My knees were shaking, palms sweaty, and my voice trembling. My stomach was doing belly flops, and I was convinced the minute I opened my mouth, I would either utter complete nonsense or pass out. I was certain that nothing I was about to say would mean anything to anyone, least of all God. Thankfully, my pride took over and out of fear of embarrassing myself, I took a deep breath and spoke. I realized later that with that action, I had done what God had asked me to do. The rest was up to Him. Although we may be filled with fear, question our worthiness, doubt our ability to communicate, or suspect that we have anything worthwhile to say, we should strive to be like Saint Mark—finding our true courage and strength in the knowledge that the Holy Spirit will guide and inspire us to spread the Gospel, the true message of love. [bctt tweet="I had done what God had asked me to do. The rest was up to Him. // @marylenaburg"] What area of your life needs courage of your convictions right now? Say a Hail Mary and get to work. Mary Lenaburg married her first (and only) blind date going on 27 years, is a full-time liturgist, and parents one adult son navigating his path on earth and a special needs daughter safely in Heaven. You can find out more about her here.

Have you ever noticed in the Bible how people pray before undertaking a great task? They call out to God for His assistance, and He always responds with aid. The Old Testament is full of stories like these. Three Angels come to Abraham with a promise of a baby in response to his prayers. The lions do not eat the praying Daniel in the lions' den. The three men do not burn in the fiery furnace while they sing a hymn of praise. The Archangel Raphael comes in response to prayer, giving Tobias a fish to free Sarah from the influence of a demon and to heal his father’s eyes. Judith prays for and receives the strength to save her people by beheading Holofrenes. God’s help is also present to the people in the New Testament. In today’s reading from Acts, Saints Peter and John, just released after being arrested for healing a lame man, were threatened by the chief priests and the elders and told to not preach about Christ anymore. Rather than comply with the wishes of their enemies, they prayed for courage to continue to spread the Gospel, and the Holy Spirit responded by filling them with boldness. They went on to begin the evangelization of the whole world. God likes to help us in response to prayer; He wants us to get to know Him, to talk to Him. When we spend time with Him, we grow to love Him more. Last year I began the daily habit of praying regularly in the afternoon during the lull of my children's quiet time. I had the habit of regular rote (memorized, written) prayers at the beginning and end of my day, but I was not making regular time for daily meditation. A priest recommended to me that the middle of the day was the perfect time for me to pray. The children were resting, and I had just been through the whirlwind of the morning and needed to gear up for the rest of the day. Placing myself in God’s presence, examining my day so far, sharing my frustrations, thanking Him for the blessings, and sitting back and listening for His response has become an essential part of my afternoon. I give the Holy Spirit a chance to fill me back up to face the tasks that I have next. My work may not seem as important to me as the preaching of the Gospel to all the nations, but I am not an Apostle. God wants to help me here in my role as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, and friend to live my vocation faithfully, and He wants to help you as well. [bctt tweet="God likes to help us in response to prayer; He wants us to get to know Him, to talk to Him."] When we pray to Him, the Spirit will come to our aid and give us the grace we need to accomplish our tasks from the smallest act of love to the boldest act of charity. Let us not forget to pray for His help in all things. Susanna Spencer once studied theology and philosophy, but now happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul. 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.

The Lord has had to patiently teach me the Divine Mercy devotion over years. My interest in the devotion grew during my first assignment after having been in my religious community for five years. We have our own devotion to Jesus as the Divine Master Way, Truth, and Life. I love this devotion because it is an explicit, all encompassing understanding of how Christ is the remedy for our whole lives. During my first assignment, I grew to love Divine Mercy by riding on the coattails of beautiful people and priests at our local parish. I had trouble understanding at first, and I guess this is a reason why I love the Saint Thomas in the Gospel story today. I love his honesty. He is like a child. In fact, the Lord beautifully answered Saint Thomas’ candor earlier in this same Gospel during the Last Supper discourse. He taught, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the father except through me.” God is not only with us, but is Himself the Way, Truth, and Life. Because of Saint Thomas’ transparency, we have one of the most vivid, memorable illustration of the Lord’s desire to be close to us. God allows Saint Thomas to put his finger into His nail marks and his hand into His side. This is radical. The Lord wants us to feel and know His mercy is glorious, eternal, and accessible. The promised graces of Divine Mercy Sunday are so radically beautiful that I had to really ask the Lord to help me believe and prepare to receive His unfathomable mercy. In these fifteen years I have learned and seen countless instances of God’s mercy transforming bitter and hardened hearts. God only wants us to ask for His gifts and place ourselves in the occasion to receive the super abundant graces of this day. He allows the childlike, the Saint Doubting Thomas-like, to come so very near. This is our joy. This is why Pope Saint John Paul II wrote, “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song.” [bctt tweet="The Lord wants us to feel and know His mercy is glorious, eternal, + accessible. // @SrMariaKim"] Happy Easter and Happy Divine Mercy Sunday. May God's mercies flow in your life. Ask Him and He will send them! 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, and is part of a bilingual evangelization team of sisters serving in Texas. Find out more about her here.

I love when we get to the Acts of the Apostles during the liturgical year. What a story, right? The strife, the conflict, the questions, and the confusion alongside the utter confidence and deep belief that imbued every member of the early Church—every year, it’s a striking reminder of what it could look like to walk into the world lit up from within with the light of Christ. I feel like I can’t relate, though. They were so extraordinary, I tell myself. They were important, special, chosen to have this close relationship with Jesus. But it’s all a matter of perception. In today’s reading, we get a different perspective: “Observing the boldness of Peter and John and perceiving them to be uneducated, ordinary men, the leaders, elders, and scribes were amazed, and they recognized them as the companions of Jesus.” Why am I so committed, taking the perspective of the elders and scribes when I look at myself? I struggle to look beyond my ordinary exterior to see myself as I truly am, as God wants me to be. Each of us is as chosen today as Saints Peter and John were in the days after the Resurrection. We, too, are called to have a transformative relationship with Christ. The expectations of the world we live in—the one that called Saints Peter and John uneducated and ordinary—tell a story about each of us that isn’t the whole truth. The world looks at me, seeking a very specific list of qualities: how do I look, act, speak, dress? Do I fit into the mold that society has asked me to pour myself into? I don’t. I will never be able to shape myself for that mold because God shaped me in one very certain mold: His own. I have been created in the image and likeness of God, and so have you. When we recognize that and begin to truly live that in our lives, we can start to throw off this world’s ideas about us. [bctt tweet="I have been created in the image and likeness of God, and so have you. // @br1gid"] Each of us is created, hand-molded, by God. When we know that, the rest of the world can begin to recognize us for who we really are: the companions of Jesus. 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.