“But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'” // Luke 18:13 I remember a cold night when I was pacing the floors with a small baby who needed movement from me—and only me—in order to keep her from screaming all night long. My body ached from exhaustion; my head felt thick and muddy from so many hours awake. I couldn’t think much or form complete thoughts. The idea of tomorrow, or the future, seemed so far away and impossible. There was only exhaustion and screaming babies for as far as my mind’s eye could see. The only prayer I could muster was, “Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.” I swear I could not concentrate long enough to say a Hail Mary. There was nothing I felt I could offer God. My body was attached to a very small miserable person so many hours of the day I didn’t have time to eat or sweep the floor. My mind was useless; I could not compose heartfelt prayers or contemplate theological ideas that I studied in college. I was humbled by my inability to do practically anything else other than take care of my child. Jesus reminds us today that humility is the entire point of faith. We can be closest to God through humility, when circumstances leave us feeling at sea, when we have nothing to offer, and no action to take other than crying out to the Lord. Instead of trying to “figure out” your life in prayer today, simply ask God for His mercy in whatever circumstance you need help in. [bctt tweet="Ask God for His mercy. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Accompanying him were the Twelve and some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities. // Luke 8:2 Every time we as women have felt badly treated by our society, within our work environments, or even amongst our peers, we need to re-hear the words of today’s Gospel. The life and teaching of Jesus was meant for all of us. But not only did Jesus preach to everyone, He also included women amongst His closest disciples. In the time and culture of Jesus, the roles of women were very narrow, and their class within society very much second to that of men. But Jesus eradicates these human constructions by healing women, casting out evil spirits from them, and even relying upon them to sustain His ministry as He traveled preaching and healing. The reality of the Gospel and Christ’s love for women is a healthy reminder for me. I may live in the twenty-first century and suffer from far fewer instances of discrimination and ill treatment because I am a woman than previous generations, but I still need the truth of my personhood as a woman being dearly loved and valued by Jesus spoken to my heart. Women closely followed Christ as His disciples while He was alive, and were the first to intimately see His Body resurrected. Saint Paul’s emphasis on the importance of the bodily resurrection is vital to our faith, and in turn vital to how we as women both receive and reveal God to the world. Our identity as women is more than just our equality to men, but each of us have a special and beautiful vocation to bring Christ to the world. How can you bring Christ to the world today, in your life, work, and relationships? [bctt tweet="Bring Christ to the world. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. // Matthew 14:13 I have never experienced grief and then been able to turn around and perform a miracle. Unless the miracle is getting out of bed, of course. But today in this terrific story from the Gospel reading, we see Jesus grieve the death of His cousin Saint John the Baptist and then go on to feed over five thousand people with twelve loaves of bread and two fish. I have never made the connection that Jesus was so fresh in His grief at the time when this miracle was performed. Part of the beauty of Christ’s Incarnation, His complete taking on of human nature, is that He experienced human emotions. And what is more universally experienced than the emotions and pain of grief? We all can imagine the impulse Christ had to withdraw to a deserted place by Himself, to seek silent solace on the water, to feel the loss of His dear cousin, the prophet of His own coming, and the friend who knew Him from the womb. In the same way that Christ would go on to transform the terrible human experience of suffering and death through the Crucifixion and Resurrection, I believe Christ is transforming the experience of the pain of grieving the loss of those we love. Christ fully experiences the emotions and real pain of loss, but He then looks and sees our human hunger. In the midst of His grief, Jesus pities and empathizes with the people around Him. He does not ignore His own grief, but through His divinity performs a miracle to meet their need. Jesus takes again that which makes humanity so vulnerable, so weak, and transforms it into an opportunity for the love of God to reach into people’s lives. It can be difficult to see others' needs while in the midst of our own pain, but is there a person you could reach out to who has shared your similar experiences of pain today? [bctt tweet="Christ is transforming the experience of pain. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it.” // Matthew 13:7 I feel like I’ve sat down and spoke to God many times about the mystery Jesus speaks of in today’s Gospel. I have gone to God in frustration, tears, exasperation, and even anger that the faith I have, and have had since being baptized as an infant, has been lost to my brother, my childhood best friend, and more people than I can list here. How can I still possess the gift of faith at the ripe old age of thirty-seven, yet the faith of so many have fallen to rocky ground, thorns, or birds of prey? I see the struggle people in my life have had in leaving the faith behind. And oftentimes what is even worse, have not seen any struggle as they leave behind faith and life in the Church which had seemed an important part of their lives. How can so many seeds of faith in the lives of real people be so easily lost like seeds blown away by the wind? Jesus does not give an answer; He simply tells us that this is the reality of the life of faith. It truly is a mystery that only God completely understands in wisdom and love. Our thoughts are not God’s thoughts; we cannot grasp why the supernatural gift of faith changes some lives irrevocably and briefly touches others. Living in this mystery is not comfortable and will probably make me angry again, but the truth also remains that God Himself loves and knows each person from before they were formed in their mother’s womb. God’s love is not dependent on a level of faith, it is ever present. No matter how far from God our loved ones may be, the love of God is with them always and so the possibility of their return to faith remains. Let’s pray today in a special way for someone in your life who has left the faith, praying that they may know the love God has for him or her. [bctt tweet="God’s love is not dependent on a level of faith. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes. // 1 Corinthians 11:26 The Catholic short-story writer Flannery O’Connor once said of the Eucharist: “Well, if it’s a symbol, then to hell with it” (Habit of Being). Her force of and clarity of speech were not meant for shock value or to infuriate those at the dining table who disagreed with her, they simply summed up her experience of Catholic faith. I think what O’Connor expresses so strikingly in this quote is how for many of us the journey of faith hinges on the teaching of the Eucharist. Being a Catholic comes with a cost, be it losing relationships, social cache, or the many ways Church teaching calls us to a life of daily sacrifice. It’s hard to be a Catholic. We are transformed into children of God through baptism, but we still experience spiritual difficulties like dark nights of the soul, periods of real doubt, and persistent seasons of feeling lukewarm about practicing the faith we believe. For the many of us tempted to just walk away from the Church, we remain because the Body and Blood of Christ is a reality only present within the walls of the Catholic Church. To know that this reality exists makes the difficulties both mundane and life-changing when it comes to practicing the faith worth it. The beauty of Christ giving Himself as true bread from Heaven each time we go to Mass seems too beautiful and good to be true, but also completely necessary to keep walking in the faith. To believe in the Eucharist is to believe in each and every miracle Jesus performed, it is to believe in the Resurrection, it is to believe in our redemption. If the Eucharist were only a symbol, then walking away completely from the Faith would be easy. I invite you to spend some time in prayer with Jesus today in gratitude for what the Eucharist has given you. [bctt tweet="Believe in the Eucharist. // Christy Isinger " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

After she and her household had been baptized, she offered us an invitation, “If you consider me a believer in the Lord, come and stay at my home,” and she prevailed on us. // Acts 16:15 I like to think about Lydia a bit in terms of “before and after.” From Saint Paul today we know that she was a business woman who dealt in purple cloth, which to me sounds like the equivalent of high fashion in ancient Macedonia. She could have been a very trendy woman. Someone who knew everyone, could get a great deal on imported silk, and attended all the best parties. In other words, she may not have been someone who naturally invited the new Christian evangelists in town over to dinner upon first meeting them. But then the Lord opened her heart. Lydia converted to this new faith upon hearing the words of Saint Paul because she was changed. She opened her home to these strangers for the love of God because now they were bound together in sharing the same faith. I like to imagine that Lydia inviting Saint Paul to her home was an example of the grace God gives us when we allow our hearts to be opened. We may not feel naturally inclined to hospitality, or talking about our faith at work, or volunteering at church. Those things may feel outside of our wheelhouse or how we are used to functioning in the lives we have planned so carefully. But God’s grace gives us that extra jump to step outside of what we believe to be our comfort zones. God’s grace can even give us a completely new passion, interest, or ability that we had previously thought impossible. It doesn’t matter how long we have been a Christian, the Lord can open our hearts to new ways of serving Him and others today and every day. Today, offer a prayer today asking God to give us a grace we need to serve the Body of Christ. [bctt tweet="The Lord can open our hearts. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

He asked them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?” // Luke 24:17 Today I’m struck by the fact that Jesus asks these men walking the lonely road to Emmaus what they are talking about, what is disturbing them. Why would Jesus need to ask? He is God; He knows their hearts. He definitely knows what has happened in the last few days. He knows how difficult the circumstances have been for believers in the fallout of His death. Why does He ask? The fact that Jesus asks them bothers me. It bothers me because Jesus has asked me that question, "Why are you upset?" at times in my life where I was flailing and struggling in ways that He should have known! He did, of course, know why I was upset. But Jesus asked not to torture or bother me further, but to give me the opportunity to express myself and to share my heart with Him to a greater degree. And I think that’s why He asks these believers on the road, to give them the opportunity to share themselves with Him. In seeking this deeper understanding Jesus shows us yet again that He is not a god of magic who takes away our suffering with a snap of His fingers. He doesn’t appear along the road to magically make these men feel better when all seems lost. He is not a god whom we access by rote box checking, or performance, or even download good outcomes by inputting prayer as some kind of formal transaction. Jesus is the Lord Who wants not to be a removed creator, but the maker of our souls who wants to know us in relationship. A relationship is built on communication, even communicating the negative emotions, damaging experiences, and how hardships affect us. Jesus wants to hear the why and how of our thoughts and feelings. Living life in relationship with Jesus is what will make our hearts burn within us with His love. Is anything happening in your life right now that you are holding back revealing your thoughts or emotions to Jesus? Share them with Him now. [bctt tweet="Jesus is the Lord." username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"How can you believe, when you accept praise from one another and do not seek the praise that comes from the only God?" // John 5:44 About this time every Lent, I’m hitting a wall. The newness of new disciplines have worn off, I’ve become bored of recognizing my own sins, and my attempts at fasting continue to prove pathetic. It becomes ever more tempting to not pay much more attention to Lent; I’ll just continue to shuffle along til Holy Week. That is until I sit with these words from Jesus today. How can I believe if I’m focusing on trying to get praise from those surrounding me instead of the only God? I honestly don’t know. But I can tell you that on a daily basis I am more concerned about being accepted and praised by those around me than by the only God. I can tell this by how I use my time, what I choose to do, how and who I love, and even what I think about. I make these choices very much in light of what kind of reaction they will get from those around me. Even more damning is the fact that I make choices on what I believe will be the reactions of people nowhere near me! People who do not know me, who may not even know I exist, or sometimes just the general culture that surrounds us is who I’m trying to impress with my daily thoughts and decisions. My faith is very much made up of my daily choices and thoughts. Where is room for my own faith to grow and develop, for my relationship with Jesus to be intimate and unique if I spend my time and actions trying to earn the praise of other people instead of the only God? In what one place can I choose God's voice over the voices of others? [bctt tweet="Choose God's voice. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The LORD said to Samuel: “How long will you grieve for Saul, whom I have rejected as king of Israel?" // 1 Samuel 16:1 Back in the days of my youth, I spent a year at a Bible school which was an almost-year long crash course in living in community, working on a life of prayer, studying Scripture and Church teaching, and working in ministry. It was a wild experience in many ways; not the least of which because it was incredibly different, almost foreign, to the regular life that society offers in every way. At the end of that year, I was determined to get a job in ministry, preferably working for the school and helping the next year’s class of students. I was completely sure that’s what I was supposed to do, and it was just a matter of magical time until the powers that be (and hire) figured that out. Of course, I didn’t get that job. It sent me into a tailspin of dramatic introspection along with the knee-jerk reaction to refuse to decide to do anything else. I refused to entertain other ideas for my future because I was so disappointed that the dream I had was no longer to be. I was just like Samuel in today’s reading. I wanted to grieve, and, to be honest, to mope about how my plan didn’t work out. I had to be pushed into the next step in my life, a life that was obviously God’s plan. That story will have to be for another day, but it turned out to be great; another instance of God’s will proving to be greater than those dreams that end and that we mourn. Sometimes, the most difficult step in following God’s will is letting go of the disappointment we grieve at the end of a dream or phase of life. How can God be calling you to leave your disappointment behind in order to hear His voice for your future? [bctt tweet="Sometimes, the most difficult step in following God’s will is letting go. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” // Matthew 1:21 A few Christmases ago, at Christmas Eve Mass, a dear, old priest was pressed into saying Mass at my parish with only a few moments notice. At the time of the Gospel reading, he shakily approached the lectern, proclaimed the Gospel telling of Christ’s nativity, and proceeded to share his homily in his soft-spoken, silted voice. He spoke of the marvelousness of Christ being born so humbly, so small, so secretly in a stable. But his voice caught. He was so moved by the fact of the Incarnation, that even though he was over the age of 90, he choked up and tears brimmed in his eyes. And that emotion, the way he was so clearly moved by sharing the Gospel after over sixty years of being a priest and reading these words of Christ’s birth so many times over, of preaching about them year in and year out, broke through my hard heart so used to the familiarity of Christmas. The priest’s reaction reminded me of the privilege it is to witness the necessity and beauty of the Savior of the world born humbly to human parents. All at once, the importance of celebrating each Christmas with genuine appreciation and what it meant to live a life of faith was shown to me through how lovingly this priest spoke of the Nativity. We may be hearing the story of Christmas through Scripture for the first time or for the fiftieth time this year, but we need to know that hearing it can and should shape and change our faith completely. It’s not a story that is removed from any of us, but one that speaks directly to our lives every year. [bctt tweet="Witness the necessity and beauty of the Savior of the world born humbly to human parents. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

On the feast of All Souls, the thought of the death of a close family member or friend constricts my heart. As Catholics, we profess the resurrection of the dead and life eternal. But it is something different to live out those words when it comes to seeing people you have loved and lived with die. So many of us have gone through this suffering, and it can be difficult in the midst of tragic loss to imagine and know that their souls are with God, that they have entered eternity with God. When it comes to facing death, we are facing the unexpected. We don't know how sorrow will rend our hearts, minds, and lives at the loss of our dearly beloved. Neither do we know the time or circumstances of our own death. In the space of sorrow and loss, faith and hope step in. Faith and hope will not take away the pain of loss, it won't make us easily believe our loved one is instantly with the Lord, but faith and hope do pull us along in praying for the souls of those we love. Death and the experience of loss are part of faith because they are the ultimate experience of things we have not seen and they are an inseparable part of our being with the Lord for eternity. The words from the reading from Wisdom today can be that glimmer of what to hold onto as we pray in faith today for those who have died: "Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love" (Wisdom 3:9). In trust, we live in faith and hope. [bctt tweet="In the space of sorrow and loss, faith and hope step in. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"You shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:31). I’ve read, and heard, and prayed these words so often in my life, yet this time I can only think, “But it is just so hard, Jesus!” I used to think that the more I loved God, the more I practiced my faith, or the older I became, the easier this commandment would become for me. I thought I’d begin loving those in my life who annoyed me, demanded time and attention, or needed me for their basic needs as though it were just an easy, breezy lifestyle. If anything, I have to admit that it’s become more difficult for me to love my neighbor. The challenging times we live in, the more tired and exhausted I become, the busier I am, the more cynical my perspective have all made loving my neighbor both near and far increasingly difficult. It’s hard to love the same people day in, day out over the course of decades. It’s hard to love the new person I don’t yet know much about. But I’ve also noticed that I have not been asking the Lord to give me the grace to love. I’ve been relying on myself rather than the ever-new mercies of God. In effect, I’ve been relying on my own mind and strength rather than properly ordering them to first love God. The simplicity of the commands of Jesus shouldn’t let us believe that they are easy and within our own human power. The commandments that Jesus speaks of are simple because they require a complete dependence on His grace and real relationship with Him. Don't let the words of today's Gospel roll over your heart today. You've heard them before, but in their simplicity, let them renew your love of Him. Only then will we be able to love our neighbor as ourselves. [bctt tweet="Depend on His grace. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I often try to barter with Jesus when it comes to change. I know He wants to change my heart, transform my life, and pour out His grace into every area of my life. But my go-to response seems to be, “But just a little at a time, Lord! Not everything all at once! How 'bout just a small bit of change that doesn’t hurt too much, or doesn’t require me to change a lot?” I want the answers to prayers my way. Not too fast, not too much, not too little. And I don’t want the change required in order for God to transform aspects of my life to be in any way uncomfortable or demanding. Only my way is acceptable. But in doing this, in being so resistant, I show little faith in what God can do. I need to remember the words of Jesus today. He will not give us things that do not make sense. He will not ruin something good to patch something that is broken. He will not pour out good things only to be washed away and wasted. He will not give us something second-best because what is best for us is worth waiting for (see Luke 5:36-39). We can try to resist His ways; we can try to barter out the change that needs to take place with God. But His change and plans for us will always be for the good. We will struggle at times to understand and see, but that does not change that God works for the best. Of course, God works in so many ways in our lives, we can see and feel change in our hearts in a matter of a mere instant, but also see it only over the course of years, even decades. What God wants is so much better for us than we know. In releasing our control over a situation, allowing change and growth, we are cooperating with a God Who only wants the best for us and our lives. The change and growth may come with pain, suffering, or inconvenience, but let’s remind ourselves today that God’s goodness surpasses our understanding. [bctt tweet="What God wants is so much better for us than we know. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Staring out my kitchen window in a daze, I wonder why I feel so stagnant and stuck; a general malaise, if you will, fills my heart. My joy is not complete. I know Jesus’ words from today’s Gospel (John 15:9-17) are true, that God the Father’s love for me is so overwhelming, whole, and all encompassing that my life should be a reflection of that. But there are days, months, even seasons where it’s difficult to feel this truth. As Jesus says, to remain in the love of God, we need to keep His commandments. I know for me that doesn’t simply mean avoiding mortal sin, but actively loving my neighbor. I struggle with this on a daily basis, and maybe you do too. I speak with impatience and shortness to my children when they simply are asking for direction or love. I don’t extend ready forgiveness to my husband over small annoyances or miscommunications. I harbor ill-will towards that uninformed stranger on the internet. I seethe with frustration over things I can’t change in others, because if only they would change I could love them more easily! I think often that if I want to feel and experience God’s love in a more full way that the first step to getting there is loving others more, or just better. Keeping the commandments is challenging, but truly loving our neighbor with our own open hearts is what makes us holy, what will make our joy complete. Is there one way you can love someone in your life better today? Small acts of service and words of encouragement are just some simple ways to express our love to those we care about most, and to those whom we need to care about more. [bctt tweet="Love better today. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Lord, fill me with Your love so I can share it more fully.  

Often in my spiritual life I pray as if I’m asking the same question as the disciples in today’s Gospel, John 6:30-35. It is as if I’m holding God hostage to answer my prayers; I want a sign from God in answer to my prayer or else. What I actually threaten God with I don’t even understand. Am I threatening to withhold my love from Him, my belief, my prayer life? It’s strange that our human response is to withhold our belief, our prayer, our very relationship with God unless we are given our own miracle written in technicolor neon lights while disregarding and ignoring all God has already given us. I’ve prayed for miracles to happen in my life before, and frankly I have yet to see an answer to these prayers. But if I hold my spiritual life hostage waiting for that one miracle to be answered, I cut off the ability to receive the grace that God wants to give me. And not only does it hinder me, but it hinders my love and charity towards others; it hampers my ability to live a Christian life. God has shown Himself to us in so many ways, we need to let go of our prayers for miracles to happen in the way we expect them. We need to allow God to work in the ways His perfect will knows best. We’ve been given the miracle of the Bread of Life, so let that feed our faith instead of our frail spiritual ultimatums. What small miracle in your life can speak to your faith life today? Do you need huge, dramatic signs to know your prayer has been answered? Share with a friend your thoughts on the miracles God has worked. listen to today’s devotion [bctt tweet="God has shown Himself. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] Merciful God, feed my faith on the Bread of Life.

Tempting as it is to let the rereading of the first words of Genesis 1:1-19 wash over me like an oft-repeated fairy tale, I know that these words that begin Holy Scripture are meant for me today just as they have been meant for all humanity for all of history. Today I read these words and sit knowing that the story of creation of God’s mighty hand separating the waters, creating light from darkness, creating time itself, frees me. It frees me from the elaborate falsehood I hold that the world is in my control; that everything depends upon me. My productivity, my abilities, even my thought processes and anxieties keep the world turning! Maybe not the entire world, but my family’s world—my world of everything and everyone I care about. This error in this belief that I control my world is directly contradicted by the way God’s Word describes creation. God alone creates out of nothing. God alone can move and manipulate the powers of nature. God still controls nature, time, life, and death. Even though I can control some things in life, these things remain solely in God’s hands. God wants to create, to heal us, to live with us. This is so freeing to me because I want to cling to control, to believe that it all depends on me, to think that only I can change things. God’s power and love expressed in the first telling of creation is present in our lives today. God holds our lives in His hands today. But we will not know His power if we remain bound to our own attempts at power and control, if we don't believe that He can heal through only the touch of His cloak. [bctt tweet="God wants to create, to heal us, to live with us. // Christy Isinger " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion What do you need to release control or the semblance of control over in your life? Take that to the Lord in prayer now.

It is unbelievable but also deeply comforting to hear Jesus calm the storm with only a few words. It is also terrible and difficult to hear Jesus calm the storm with only a few words. It’s beautiful and touches the depth of our souls to know that our Jesus, our God, can quell our fears so instantly. It truly taps into our foundational human need to feel safe. But it also recognizes our human smallness compared to the forces of nature on this earth we live on. Nature is so staggering in its power, it is a never changing fact that reveals our true helplessness. But Jesus is much greater than all the power of nature; He can quell a storm that can only mean death. Knowing Jesus is greater than the most powerful forces we know is essential in believing that Jesus is in fact truly God. But it’s also terribly hard to read this passage because we have all experienced fear, terror, and danger. We’ve felt the fear of the disciples; we’ve tried to awaken Our Lord and begged for safety; we’ve sent urgent cries to God for deliverance only to receive no answer. We did not have our fear taken away, not have terror removed, or be given deliverance from danger. We’ve suffered terribly and prayers for calm and protection have not been answered in a way that has prevented fear, terror, pain, and suffering. It’s truly challenging to live with the reality that Jesus can command the waves of the sea and yet allow us to experience suffering in this life, but it’s a reality that the Christian life encompasses and holds. This truth and particularly this passage of the Gospel (Matthew 4:35-41) requires a lot from us. It requires faith and trust, but it also presents this paradox. The first thing we can do is pray with these words and begin to ask what God wants to show us through both having faith in Him and suffering. We need to wrestle with our experience but also hear the words Christ wants to say to us now, wherever we are in the storm. [bctt tweet="Jesus can calm the storm. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Are you struggling in a spiritual storm? Consider finding a spiritual director.