Nay rather, I have stilled and quieted my soul like a weaned child. Like a weaned child on its mother's lap, so is my soul within me. // Psalm 131: 2 (Responsorial Psalm for Memorial of Saint Monica) A few years ago one of our sons was going through a hard season. He had gone away to college and had come home struggling. Further, this was during Covid, when everything felt like it was falling apart anyways, but watching this particular child struggle in this particular way made me especially sad. I remember one day, on our daily walk with our dog, telling my husband that I felt so tight inside. “I feel like I’m never going to be able to exhale until all of our boys are either married or ordained priests.” And saying this out loud deeply helped, because I realized how crazy it was. There was no way my central nervous system could sustain this level of anxiety and then just calm down once I marked the box of “launched” for this child. I needed to find peace in the now, even though now was very imperfect.  Mothers everywhere have looked to the example of Saint Monica, whose feast we celebrate today, during hard times with children. And while most of us hope that we won’t have to wait thirty whole years for our child to change, we still seek her intercession and follow her good example. She never gave up on her son, who is now Saint Augustine, and I would imagine that in her close walk with the Lord, she found peace even as she waited for the Lord to answer her prayers. And that is what we are called to as well. We are to pray, hope, and not worry—as Saint Padre Pio advised. We have to get to a place of real peace as we journey along beside our children. We can only find that peace in the Lord which we prayed for in the Responsorial Psalm, not in our children’s good or bad decisions, not in the temporal at all.  Lord, give me a stilled and quieted soul, a dependence on You in the difficult times and the knowledge that every good thing I have comes from You. Only You can bring peace to my soul within. Amen.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many. How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few.” // Matthew 7:13-14 When my husband Paul and I visited the Holy Land a few years ago, one of my favorite stops was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This is the church that has been built around Calvary and includes—and is named for— the sacred tomb where Jesus was buried. Inside the large church is a small free-standing chapel built around the tomb with a small door to enter. Once you enter, there is a smaller door that leads to an even smaller space: the tomb itself. I remember ducking down to get in that second door and suddenly there I was—in the exact spot they placed Jesus after He died. Through this tiny door came the place of everlasting life.  It did not feel impossibly small, once you squeezed in through the door. I managed to get in just as a very small gathering was starting Mass, and there we stood—in that sacred space that once held everything for us—our hope, our freedom, our joy. It had all been contained in this tomb so many years ago. Here it was still. In today’s Gospel we hear about the narrow gate (see Matthew 7:6, 12-14). We know about this gate because every day we as Christians all strive to follow the road to which it leads us. Some days we recognize the joy of living on this constricted road, how protected we are by the Lord when we stay in the pasture where He cares for us. But some days it can be a challenge. It might seem easier to have a broader space to roam and we are tempted to get off our narrow path and find the freedom our fallen human nature thinks we deserve. Thankfully, Jesus is our Good Shepherd. When we wander off the road that leads to life, He seeks us. He gently draws us back to Himself, through the narrow door, back into the space of deep freedom and abiding joy. The place of everlasting life.  Lord, as we go about our day today, show us Your guiding hand and keep us on the road that leads to life everlasting. Amen.  

Jesus then said to the Twelve, "Do you also want to leave?" Simon Peter answered him, "Master, to whom shall we go?” // John 6:67-68 When my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer—four months before he died—one of my biggest fears was that my faith would be shaken. Faith really is a gift and I wondered if walking through the death of my dad would be more than I could bear. Could I handle it? Could my faith handle it? I wondered if Jesus would still feel real to me once I suffered this loss. Would all the truths of my faith stand up to this test, to this devastating separation? Maybe I’ve shared about this before and here I am again. But it’s worth repeating: God’s promises are true. He provides for us in all we need. And we see that in how He implemented His plan of Salvation. While death and sadness were not part of God’s original plan and are a result of our sin, Jesus’s Death on the Cross redeemed all of it for us. God walks with us in the midst of this suffering because He has gone through it before. Death conquered death. As I worried I would be tempted to leave Jesus, I realized what Simon Peter does in today’s Gospel: “[T]o whom shall we go?” (John 6:68) Sister, there is no place beyond the reach of God’s love. Whatever pit we may find ourselves in, God can be there with us. He can take our suffering and redeem it for good. He can take our mourning and turn it into joy.  Why would we go anywhere else? To whom else could we possibly turn?

“To what shall we compare the Kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.” // Mark 4:30-32 My first post-college job was at a newspaper, and each week, I did a “Man on the Street” series. A photographer and I would approach people in public places and get their opinion and picture to run later in the week. I was still learning how to be a “faith-filled” person living and working in the real world. How vocal would I be about my own experience with the Kingdom of God? I was a twenty-year-old, born and raised in a strong Catholic family. But did I need to advertise? Sharing anything faith-related felt scary to me. The photographer was a woman a few years older than me. She was also Catholic but no longer practicing her faith. We talked about faith here and there, but I admit trying to hide my light under a bushel so that I wouldn’t seem weird. This weekly experience lasted for a few months and we each moved. About ten years later, I ran into that woman and she looked completely different—happy and deeply joyful. “I know you didn’t talk about it a lot,” she told me, “but your faith inspired me.” Because of our time together, she said, she started going back to Mass and found her way into a deeper relationship with God. I was blown away. I held back tears. Even in the midst of almost hiding my faith, God found a way. The mustard seed of truth was still able to be planted because God is so much bigger than my human weakness. Years later, I have now tasted so much of God’s goodness that I can’t help but sing. As today’s Psalm says, I want to proclaim God’s marvelous deeds, singing a new song to the Lord (see Psalm 96:1, 3).  The Lord doesn’t need us to do His work, but I’m humbled that He allows us to be a part of it. He invites us to share his goodness to the people He loves so much.   Lord, please continue to give us the freedom to share Your goodness with those around us! You are so good; Your deeds are marvelous indeed.

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord or who has been his counselor? Or who has given him anything that he may be repaid?  // Romans 11:33-35 Once upon a time, I was left out. It’s simple enough, but as a little girl, it was a shock to my system. All of my friends were going to a party and I wasn’t invited. It was so confusing and it hurt. Eventually an invite came. I went and had fun. That initial jolt of rejection, however, stuck deep inside me.  Acknowledging the seemingly harmless circumstance didn’t change the truth of the wound. The feelings would surface every so often and I learned, as an adult, to rationalize them away. You are a grown woman, I would tell myself, who is greatly loved and richly blessed. Get over it! As time went by, however, I got tired of having to reason with myself each time I felt rejected. I needed healing.  I had known about the incident for years. It was not “repressed.” But I had never considered giving it to Jesus and asking Him to shine His love and light into that memory. I really just wanted to forget it, but in reality I needed more than positive self-talk. I exposed this wound to the Lord and He healed me deeply.  The beauty of abandonment to the Lord is that His mind and counsel are beyond our understanding. The depth and riches and wisdom of God, for me in this sad memory of rejection, took those sad feelings and turned them into something glorious. As I gave that sadness over to the Lord, He handed me back a memory of absolute delight. My friends were all going to a party. Look how happy they are!  And here was Jesus, standing beside me as we watched. There was so much love—the Father’s love for me—that instead of fear and rejection I was filled with excitement and love. It only makes sense in God’s inscrutable economy. God is so good. His ways are unsearchable! In a moment of grace we can turn our present, our future, and especially our wounded past over to Him——and He can take the broken and create something beautiful and new. 

Brothers and sisters: I know how to live in humble circumstances; I know also how to live with abundance. In every circumstance and in all things I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I can do all things in him who strengthens me. // Philippians 4:12 A few years ago, my husband Paul took me to Italy to celebrate my birthday. Our good friend Father Tim was working at the Pontifical North American College in Rome and arranged transportation for us from the airport to where we were staying near him on his campus. When we got off the plane, our driver was waiting with our name on a placard, and, after grabbing our luggage, we headed to a sleek Mercedes sedan. We rode in luxury through the streets of the Eternal City on our way to our apartment for the next ten days. It was a dream. For the rest of our trip we traveled less extravagantly, taking the train as we ventured out of Rome to other parts of the country. But man, that Mercedes! What a treat! The readings for today focus on humble circumstances and on abundance, and how God can meet us and be with us in both. But also, as the First Reading notes, the Lord offers us not just “rich food and choice wines,” but He makes them even better as" juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines” (Isaiah 25:6). God wants to give us every good thing, and while it’s easy to focus on the temporal, physical world, the truth is, He offers something far better—deep, abiding good and prosperity that only He can give.  “My God will fully supply whatever you need,” says Saint Paul in the Second Reading, “in accord with his glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). Far better than a sleek (and very fun) ride in a fancy car is the feast of the Lord. Sister, what is the feast God is inviting us to that we would be unwilling to attend like the people in the Gospel parable for today (see Matthew 22:1-14)? What holds us back from going? The Scriptures today all point to a generous God who is eager to walk beside us.  Let us pray for the grace to be willing to attend this feast, to say yes to the goodness God has to give.

“For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?” // Matthew 16:25-26 A few years ago I was invited to travel with a group of writers to observe the impact of a particular charity group and how it empowers those people it helps. During my week in El Salvador, I met women and children whose lives had been transformed by the generosity of donors willing to sponsor children and the elderly. I spent my days writing about what I saw and feeling like I was an important part of changing lives. One afternoon, after spending the day observing, we headed back to base camp. I was packed in the back of a pickup truck going down a washed-out mountain road and everyone had to lean together so the truck wouldn’t flip. In the distance was a volcano.  My life felt amazing and important. A few days after my return, I was back in my laundry room handling crusty basketball socks and dirty underwear.  “This,” I said to the Lord, “is not the best use of my gifts.” I was embarrassed immediately after and instead of feeling reproached, I felt as if God smiled at me. I felt His love and I also knew I had something life-changing to learn.  In today’s Gospel we hear the importance of giving our lives over to the Lord, as Jesus tells us, “[W]hoever loses his life for my sake will find it (Matthew 16:25).” It’s tempting (and easy!) to want more, to think life is passing us by and there are better and more exciting tasks out there for us to tackle. But unless we give over every detail of our lives to the Lord, we won’t gain a thing. Is the thing I am doing right now the thing God is asking of me? If we really want to save our lives—to live a life that feels like something special—then we need to let God into all of it.  Lord, keep me in the center of Your will for me. And help me see that the thing I’m doing right now can only be truly glamorous when I do it for you. 

Go out to all the world and tell the Good News. // Mark 16:15 My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer last September and died in January. We as a family spent five beautiful and painful months walking beside him on his journey to eternal glory. During that time, I was watching to see if I would need to cancel any previously scheduled speaking engagements. I ended up having just enough time between the funeral and the first conference to keep my commitment.  When I stood in front of the crowd at my first talk that morning, I had no plans to talk about everything we had just endured. That’s not what you agreed to talk about, I told myself. That’s not what these women came to hear. But I also knew I had just been through something we all fear so much, and that I had felt God’s grace and mercy and faithfulness to me and to our family every step of the way. I had to tell the good news.   “Go out to all the world and tell the Good News,” says today’s Psalm Response (Mark 16:15), “[f]or steadfast is his kindness for us, and the fidelity of the LORD endures forever (Psalm 117:2).” What I needed to share was this reality: what God says He will do, He has done. For me, for my siblings and our mom and our families, the peace and consolation that the Lord offers was so present to us in those hard, sad days that we could not help but declare His goodness. When my dad was first diagnosed, I was fearful. I was afraid of losing my dad and also, of losing my faith. What if this death, which I knew would come, would be more than I could bear? What if this loss rocked me to my core? But it was not, and it did not. And only because of the goodness of God.  What has God done for you? Do you see His goodness? Do you see the kindness He has shown you and the faithful that endures? Go share it with the world! This is the Good News the world so desperately needs to hear. 

The law of the LORD is perfect, refreshing the soul. The decree of the LORD is trustworthy, giving wisdom to the simple. //  Psalm 19:8   When my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer last fall, it was a stressful and scary time. That first night after he was admitted to the hospital with symptoms that led us to the reality of his situation, I walked out into the parking lot feeling so sad and scared. In that moment, a flash of an image came into my head. It was an image of my dad running in a race. He was happy and tired and his face radiated joy. On the sidelines were friends and family who had gone before, cheering with delight. Their good friend was about to cross the finish line into this glory; what incredible happiness. I realized, in that split-second flash, God was comforting me. Instead of seeing this trial as my dad leaving us, I had an image of him moving toward something—my dad was headed to Heaven, the communion of Saints, Jesus Himself! Over the next few months, as my dad battled cancer and ultimately crossed the finish line, that image comforted me.  He is not moving away from something, I knew in my heart, but towards it. I’m not sure how I had the grace to trust Jesus, but it was truly a childlike trust. I simply chose not to question that God would comfort me and my family in our time of sorrow. This image, I knew deep down, was proof that He would. Today’s First Reading from Sirach anticipates the Responsorial Psalm. “When I was young and innocent, I sought wisdom openly in my prayer” (Sirach 51:13). We call this kind of innocent faith “childlike”—but it doesn’t need to be exclusive to the young. We all of us have the opportunity to trust and believe the precepts of the Lord.  When our faith is in the Lord and His goodness, our souls are refreshed. When we direct ourselves to wisdom, our hearts will delight in God’s comfort and truth. Lord, please give joy to our hearts! Remind us to have a childlike trust in You so we can be fully immersed in all the goodness, peace and grace You so freely give. 

He brought them up into his house and provided a meal and with his household rejoiced at having come to faith in God. //Acts 16:34 When I was sixteen years old, I had an encounter with the Living God. At a conference far from home, surrounded by thousands of other teenagers, the Lord revealed Himself to me in a very intimate way. In that moment, in those days at that conference, my life was changed. I was never the same again. I was transformed by God, forever changed by the truth that the faith given to me by my parents was real. In that connection with the Lord, I understood this truth. In today’s First Reading, we witness God’s transforming power. The jail guard’s life was changed forever. Paul and Silas were worshiping the Lord when an earthquake shook the foundation of the jail, the doors were flung open, and the prisoners’ chains were broken. The jailer was terrified; he was so afraid of failing in his duties that he considered killing himself. Paul and Silas assured him they were still in the cell, and the guard realized the earthquake was from the Lord. “Sirs,” he asked them, “what must I do to be saved?” This encounter with the Living God is so transformative that the guard changed from a fear-filled man willing to harm himself to a believer who brought Paul and Silas to his home to care for them. He cleaned their wounds and then invited them to dine with his family to celebrate being saved. What a celebration: the knowledge of Our Savior! Each one of us understands this goodness, this healing power. We, too, have been touched by God’s power; we, too, celebrate the goodness of a Living God Whose love and freedom has changed our lives. How will you celebrate today?

Brothers, select from among you seven reputable men, filled with the Spirit and wisdom, whom we shall appoint to this task, whereas we shall devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word. // Acts 6:3-4 The Body of Christ has many disciples, along with many different roles that must be filled. There are many members and needs and many jobs for these members to do. I love the image of the early followers realizing that new roles were needed to meet all the different needs. Even when the numbers were smaller, there were a variety of tasks that had to be performed. It wasn’t just one type of service that would solve all of the Church’s problems. And so it is today, all these years later. The Body of Christ still has a range of needs, still requires a range of gifts and abilities so that God’s people (all His people) can be cared for physically and spiritually. In those early days, the Apostles recognized that some leaders could meet specific needs, which would free up other leaders to meet other needs. In order to get the whole of the job done, each person would do what he must. It’s very easy to compare, to look around and see what someone else is doing and feel threatened by the difference. But like the earliest Apostles, we are each armed with different skills that will meet different needs. There is so much freedom and joy in being who God created each one of us to be, in using the gifts He has given us and in recognizing with delight what He has given those around us. If we see ourselves as a part of the Body—and not the whole thing on our own—we can truly celebrate not just our differences, but the beauty in those around us. Thank You Lord for Your diverse Body. Give us the wisdom to use the gifts You have given us. Give us a deep security in who You have created each one of us to be, and a love for those You have called us to serve.

“Why do you conclude that it is because you have no bread? Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and not see, ears and not hear?” // Mark 8:17-18 In today’s Gospel, Jesus reminds His disciples of what He has done for them in the past. Reading this passage, I felt embarrassed for them, to be honest. The disciples have forgotten the times that Jesus provided not just exactly what they needed, but even a little extra. Jesus had to remind them. Before I got too carried away in my judgment, I felt the Lord gently remind me of my own similar tendencies. In the middle of pondering that very reading, of scoffing at the disciples’ wavering trust, another part of my brain was preoccupied with a few needs in my own life. Would I have enough resources (time, money, energy) to do what God was asking me to do? How would I manage? Would things really work out okay this time? “Do you remember the other times I provided for you,” I heard the Lord ask me in my heart. And there it was, the truth of God’s provision. He provides. He is faithful. It’s scary to rely on the Lord. He is always faithful, but somehow I am quick to forget. I’m tempted by anxiety and worry; the Lord redirects me to a place of surrender and trust. God wants us to be free from cares and concerns; we seem to thrive on them. And here we see the Lord’s very first followers carry that same human condition—a need to be reminded of God’s goodness and faithfulness. He will provide. He has done it for you every other time you’ve had a need. He will do it this time, too, whatever it is that worries you. Ask the Lord to remind you of a time He provided for you when you were afraid He would not. Ask Him to show you any area you need to give to Him so that Jesus can have full control over the things that cause you fear.

Blessed are those who fear the Lord and walk in his ways. // Psalm 128:1 When I was growing up, my dad was the headmaster at the private school my siblings and I attended. One year, he gave each of us a wallet-sized copy of his school picture and wrote a message on the back. “To Rach,” my dad wrote to me, “my favorite 4th grade Swenson.” My dad loved me for me, and I was Rachel, a Swenson, in the 4th grade. I was seen and loved by my father. The readings and responsorial today show the importance of fatherhood: We should honor our father and care for him in his old age. We should fear the Lord and walk in His ways. The Gospel offers the perfect tie-in of the Heavenly Father to that of Our Lord’s earthly father in Saint Joseph cooperating with the Father’s will by getting Jesus to safety after His birth. For those of us blessed to be seen and loved by good earthly fathers, we have a foretaste of Heaven. We have experienced a taste of the love that God our Good Father pours out. The gift of God the Father’s love, however, is that it is available to each of us, in equal measure. We are all seen and loved for who we are—for who you are—by our Heavenly Father. The Father pours out His healing, all-knowing love into you. God the Father, help me to experience Your love for me. Help me to know I am seen and loved unconditionally by You. Amen. [bctt tweet="The Father pours out His healing, all-knowing love into you. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I chose you from the world, to go and bear fruit that will last, says the Lord. // Alleluia, see John 15:16 When I was in high school, I had an encounter with the Living God that made me realize following Him would be worth the effort. Several years later, as a college student trying to figure out life, I prayed about becoming a nun. When God made it clear to me that wasn’t the plan, I thought, I guess God has His special people picked out to really do His work, and the rest of us head off for marriage and the suburbs . . . . Of course I loved being married and becoming a mother. But there was not an immediate understanding of vocation: this idea that the thing I was doing was building the Church. It wasn’t until a few more years into family life that the Lord really revealed to me the beauty and mission of being called by Him. God chose us from the world to go and bear fruit that will last. The Lord chose me—He chose you!—and He has a special mission for each one of us that only we can fulfill. That doesn’t necessarily mean our job or our state in life. Those are certainly things God uses. But we are chosen to connect with the Trinity in the hidden depths of our being in a way no one else can. What the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are doing within you is not happening in anyone else. And this deep encounter helps each one of us go and bear fruit that will last—being loved by the Father and loving those God puts in our path. We are called to share God’s love with the people He loves so much. [bctt tweet="The Lord chose me—He chose you!—and He has a special mission for each one of us that only we can fulfill. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Brothers and sisters: For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery. // Galatians 5:1 For many years, I was addicted to gossip. It’s embarrassing to admit, but there you go. Gossip, in the moment, felt good on my lips. It was practically delicious to me. It was also a form of slavery. Looking back now that God has set me free, I can see how Satan used it to keep me wrapped up in shame and anxiety. For years I was wounded and insecure. It would take one negative interaction that would rub up against a wound, and in order to feel better, I would repeat the offending interaction to friends. And then I would feel guilt and shame for talking badly about someone, so I would have to apologize to everyone. And repeat. The cycle didn’t stop until I focused not just on gossip, but on my wounds. Once I allowed Jesus to go to those places where He wanted to set me free, with God’s grace I started to have victory. The readings and responsorial for today focus on an interior freedom brought on by God’s mercy. We do not submit again to the yoke of slavery because we have been set free by God. He goes beyond the surface and dives deep into our hidden places, taking away the yoke of slavery brought on by sin. God reaches into our hidden depths to offer healing beyond anything we could ever hope or dream. [bctt tweet="He goes beyond the surface. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Rather, new wine must be poured into fresh wineskins. And no one who has been drinking old wine desires new, for he says, ‘The old is good.’” // Luke 5:38-39 The final line of today’s Gospel is a real attention-getter. I read that line and I get the image of a superspeed train leaving the station—if you aren’t on board, you’re going to get left in the dust. People who are busy drinking old wine, says the Gospel, won’t have any desire for the new wine. Those people will be happy with old wine, having no understanding of how wonderful the new wine is. This part of the Gospel perfectly echoes today’s responsorial, “Commit to the LORD your way; trust in him, and he will act.” This is an excellent psalm for a graduation cake, but it’s also relevant for each one of us in our daily living. I want to be on board with what God is doing right now, and in order to do that, I need to give Him everything I have going on. I need to commit my ways to Him and then trust in Him. If I operate in this kind of relationship—giving God permission to be in control of my life—then I can rest assured that I won’t get left off that train, that I won’t be happy with old wine. God, You are the ruler of every detail of my life. Give me the courage to trust in You, the wisdom to accept Your offer of freedom, and the knowledge to understand that when I commit my ways to You, everything will come together with Your perfect peace and within Your perfect plan. Amen. [bctt tweet="Give Him everything. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Then he said to me: Prophesy over these bones, and say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: Listen! I will make breath enter you so you may come to life. // Ezekiel 37:4-5 A few years ago, in the middle of a hot Georgia summer, I went to a Steubenville conference with a few of my sons. I was in the middle of a long, challenging season and tagging along as a chaperone was a step in faith. At the end of one session, the worship leader had us sing the chorus of a song for about five minutes. We repeated the words so many times that I can clearly remember the song, the words, and the tune even several years later. “We are dry bones,” we sang together. I wept as I sang, in spite of myself. I remember feeling this so deeply. I was dry bones, tired and worn out and wondering what I had to offer anyone, least of all God. But there we stood, crying out to God, acknowledging our weakness and standing ready for God to restore us. God can do that. Jesus as Bread of Life does that. Christ can take dry bones and not just put them together with flesh and sinew, but with a spirit. And as He says in the First Reading, He will do this and we will know that He is God. Think of the area in your life where you are most anxious or concerned. What burden are you carrying today that God wants to take from you? If God can take dry bones and turn them into living flesh and spirit, imagine what miracles He has in store for you. [bctt tweet="Imagine what miracles He has in store for you. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion