Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. // Matthew 10:37-39 Several years ago, I spent my birthday in El Salvador, away from my husband and our six children. I had been invited to witness and write about a Catholic charity serving impoverished women and children, and the dates of the trip coincided with my special day. On that trip, I had a moment that I include among the happiest of my life. The day before my birthday, the group visited a nearby town, and we found our way to a Catholic church on the square. I was able to spend just a few minutes kneeling before the altar, and in those moments, I felt an experience of God’s love more deeply than I ever had before. He was there, inside my heart, burning with love for me. In that moment, I was overcome with a great awareness of all that God had given me: Of the love of my husband and children and parents and siblings. Of the gift of good friendship and good counsel. It all hit me in a wave, actually in several waves over several minutes. All this goodness, this deep knowledge of the love in my life—and it all came through God’s great love for me. Instead of missing my family while I was away, I was overwhelmed with a deep, abiding love for them. Before that moment, I knew and recognized all the goodness God had poured out on me. But when God infused me with His love in those few minutes, I was able to feel that goodness in a new, more profound way. The only way I can experience a deep love for my father and mother, my sons and daughter—and my husband!—is to love God more. To put God first means that I am filled with a love that can only come from Him, a love that creates more love, that recognizes love, that gives love freely. This is the life we find when we lose ourselves. We give God everything we have, and, in return, we find richness beyond our imagination. [bctt tweet="Give God everything. //. Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Then the LORD extended his hand and touched my mouth, saying, See, I place my words in your mouth! This day I set you over nations and over kingdoms, to root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant. // Jeremiah 1:9-10 I have always loved the song “Be Not Afraid” which includes a line about Jesus going before us. Whenever I sang it, I would get an image of Jesus walking in front of me, as I went about my day. When I felt scared, or needed strength, Jesus was a warrior with a machete, cutting down all bad things in my path. Not too long ago, I had something mildly traumatic happen, a situation involving me and someone I love that did not go at all how I wanted. Things that were out of my control caused agitation, and I was helpless to change anything. I was talking through the situation with my husband, and he pointed out that this was a good opportunity to grow in humility. He said it in a nice way, not like I was a loser for feeling uncomfortable, but more that it felt uncomfortable because God had something He wanted to do with me in the midst of it all. I think we can all agree that humility is one of those virtues that is important and worthy to have but very painful to attain. In theory, growing in humility is the best. In the moment, growing in humility is the worst. As I was praying about all of this, I thought of that song, about Jesus going before me to give me rest. And somehow Jesus showed me that by going before me, He didn’t walk in front of me. Going before me meant He was there, in this messy situation, before I had even arrived. Jesus was there, and He knew my small suffering—and because He went before me, He could redeem it. Jesus could use this for my personal growth and healing and for His glory. I suddenly felt a sense of freedom and joy. Even though things had been sticky and painful, Jesus could destroy and demolish the sin and suffering and build and plant virtue and goodness. He could do all this within me and within the situation. God knows our suffering, and it is not for nothing. He can use our circumstances to draw us closer to Him—in the wonderful times and also the challenging ones. He goes before us to transform us. Before we were even born, He dedicated us to Himself. How is He going before you today? [bctt tweet="He goes before us. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

And he fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions, so that people might seek God, even perhaps grope for him and find him, though indeed he is not far from any one of us. // Acts 17:26-27 Years ago, I got an email not long after I gave birth to our daughter Isabel. Isabel is our sixth child and our only girl, a daughter after five sons. The writer of this email was a mama of all boys, no daughter, and she expressed a certain sadness. “I feel like I have a hole in my heart that only a daughter can fill.” This woman’s deep longing is certainly something we can all relate to. How many of us have something in our own life, a hole in our heart, that we are waiting to have filled. Maybe we think these feelings will shift when our older children are “launched.” Maybe we think it will be better when our marriage is through a bumpy patch. Perhaps you think it is the spouse you are longing for or the baby you dream of. It’s easy to allow circumstances in our lives put us in a strange holding pattern, and we might think the ache we experience in our heart will be eased by resolution in some temporal matter. I remember writing back to this woman and telling her that Isabel was indeed a joyful surprise. We didn’t know we were having a girl, and she did fill a missing spot we didn’t even know we had. “But the hole in your heart,” I told the woman, and I reminded myself, “is something that can only be filled by God.” As the scripture from Acts says today, God made this life so that we are indeed seeking Him—groping for Him!—and then finding Him. But we must learn this important lesson: that the thing inside each one of us that seeks and lacks and knows something is missing, this is the God-sized hole that only He can fill. God can fill it, and He so desperately longs to fill it. He waits for you—“indeed he is not far from any one of us”—ready to quench the thirst and take the yoke and ease the longing each one of us has for our good, good Father. [bctt tweet="God can fill it. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God? //Psalm 42:2-3 One funny, sometimes frustrating experience of being a mama is that inevitable moment when you are in a crowd and a child calls out “MOM!” Heads turn from all over, mothers looking to see if the voice belongs to someone in their care. Sometimes it takes a minute, but usually it is much quicker than that. Someone is crying out, and a mother can quickly assess if it is her child and whether or not she is needed. We know the voice of the one we love, and it does not take us long to be certain. “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord,” wrote Saint Augustine in Confessions, "and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.” We were created for deep union with God. We were made for God, and deep inside us, we know this truth. We might not be aware of this reality from the onset. Some of us may have wandered in the desert in search of Truth for some time. Some of us may have always known Truth but had not yielded to the deeper connection we must be willing to pursue. Either way, over time God uses circumstances and feelings to help us begin the journey back towards Him. The world and the culture try to tell us what will make us happy. We use food and money and fun and all kinds of other “things” to fill a hole inside of us that only God can fill. These are not necessarily bad things, but if we use them as a substitute for the thing that will actually bring us real, everlasting peace, we will be restless. Our soul is athirst for God, says the psalmist. And it will not be content with a false god—we are the Lord’s sheep. If we try to follow the wrong shepherd, we choose to turn away from God's grace and the real, abiding joy He is offering. Our souls were created for God, and He does not want us to settle for anything less. Lord, help us to always listen for Your voice. You are the Good Shepherd, and our souls were made for You alone. [bctt tweet="We know the voice of the one we love. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves. Many are the troubles of the just man, but out of them all the LORD delivers him. // Psalm 34:18 When my husband and I traveled to the Holy Land a few years ago, one of the most profound places we visited was the Sacred Pit. I had never heard of this place before our trip because not much is said about it in the Bible. This pit is where Jesus was taken after the Last Supper with His disciples. Before he was taken to Pontius Pilate, Jesus spent the night at the home of Caiaphas in a deep hole below the house. It was so deep Jesus needed to be lowered into it. He was brought up from it the next morning to face His suffering and death. I thought of this pit several months after our return. I was going through something really sad in our family, watching a loved one suffer and unable to help. I was brokenhearted. In my tears, crying out to God for a miracle, the Sacred Pit came into my mind. In this moment of great sadness, of being in a pit all alone, I felt a sense of Jesus being lowered down there with me. He was beside me, in this time of trouble and suffering. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted. He saves those who are crushed in spirit. Jesus bore our suffering; He was lowered into a pit as part of the path to resurrection. He wants us to remember that whatever difficult thing we are going through right now, He went before us and will deliver us. Lord, You deliver us from our troubles. Bring us peace when we suffer and help us to feel Your loving presence walking beside us on our path. [bctt tweet="He went before us and will deliver us. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Here is my servant . . . upon whom I have put my Spirit; he shall bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry out, nor shout, nor make his voice heard in the street. // Isaiah 42:1-2 I’m the oldest of eight children, a sibling set of talkative, outgoing personalities with lots to say. When we were younger, if my mom needed to rein us in, she would talk in a very quiet voice. Yelling didn’t get the attention of an already loud group. She needed to whisper. It’s a counterintuitive approach that is shockingly effective. If you need a boisterous, excitable, animated flock to hear you, start whispering. Somehow it quiets things down. In the reading today, God tells us about His servant, he who will bring forth justice to the nations. This servant will come into a loud population and change things, without making much noise. There will not be crying out or shouting, or the sound of a voice yelling out in the street. His servant will come with victory, but without noise. And yet, the Scripture continues, the Lord has called us, His people, for victory of justice. We have been formed and set as a light to the nations—and this justice will come without crying or shouting. We will be used by God and His overwhelming love to help open the eyes of the blind. God’s hand will be upon us, to guide us. Through His soft voice, He will direct us with love to lead prisoners from their confinement and shine His light on those who live in unbearable darkness. He will do the work, but we will bring Him to His people in need. Our job is to listen. We must tune in to the quiet voice deep within us that guides us with love to the people God yearns to reach. God, who are You directing me to love today? Please allow me to hear the soft, still voice inside me that directs me to lead with love. [bctt tweet="He will direct us with love. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen." // Matthew 4:16 When he was in eighth grade, my son Ethan got lost in the mountains for two hours. It was a winter camping trip with his Boy Scout troop. Up in the treacherous mountains of Tennessee, while racing to the top of a nearby peak, Ethan and his friend Andrew got separated from the pack. The sun went down, and suddenly those two boys were in the pitch-dark, freezing-cold and absolutely alone. The search crew consisted of all the other Scouts and the chaperone dads, including my husband Paul. They all went out to look for those boys when it was clear they were lost. At one point, Paul told the boys to turn off their flashlights, which resulted in an abject black-out. They could not even see their hands directly in front of their faces. “This is what Ethan and Andrew are walking in,” Paul said to the boys. This total blackness, cold and dark and up in the mountains near drop-offs and bears. That image has not left me these years later. At the time, Paul was relieved there was no cell service on that mountain so I would not find out about any of this until the next day when Ethan and Andrew had been safely found and everyone was on the way home. But that blackness, that absolute darkness. Wandering around in that for two hours, and then being found. What a relief. What complete joy and freedom. This is our life in Christ. This is the light we live in! The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. We are changed. We will never have to wander in the dark again. A Savior has been sent to us. We are forever in the light. Are you walking in the darkness? When have you seen a great light? [bctt tweet="We are changed. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated; Indeed, she has received from the hand of the LORD double for all her sins." // Isaiah 40:2 I’ll never forget the first time I read those very popular words of Saint Therese of Lisieux describing a unique form of discipline she suggested we ask from God the Father. She used the example of two sons who had been naughty and needed to be corrected. The first son, afraid of his punishment, trembles in fear and hides his face from his father. The other son, equally guilty, leans in to the father’s great love for him and appeals to his father’s great love. “(He) . . . throws himself into his father’s arms, saying that he is sorry for having caused him any trouble, that he loves him, and to prove it he will be good from now on, and if this child asked his father to punish him with a kiss, I do not believe that the heart of the happy father could resist the filial confidence of his child, whose sincerity and love he knows” (Fr. Thomas Dubay, Fire Within). What a crazy, mind-blowing concept! Our punishment must still take place, but it is with a kiss. The passage from today’s reading has a similarly counterintuitive consequence to our action. The Scripture says Jerusalem has received “double for all her sins”—except, just like always, God throws everything on its head. Punishment, giving us what we deserve, even the way that the Lord comes in power, as the Responsorial Psalm says—all of these things are counter to what the world tells us should happen. None of us get what we deserve—we get double for it. And not double for what we deserve in our human, sinful nature. We get double for what God has restored for us. We are given so much more than we could ever imagine because God sent His Son to die—and rise!—for our sins. We are new creations who have been given freedom and worth beyond anything our human hearts and minds can comprehend. How is He speaking tenderly to you today? [bctt tweet="We are new creations. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

A few years ago, we renovated our kitchen. We had bought our house from my husband’s parents and, along with the joy of my children being the fourth generation of Balduccis in this home, we also got blue laminate countertops. I was very happy when, a few years later, we were finally able to update. House renovations take on a life of their own. I found myself having to constantly consider things like lighting, cabinetry, appliance colors, and fixtures. It was fun at first, but after a while it just started to feel wrong. “I don’t like having to think about these things all the time,” I told my husband. “It seems too worldly!” But, of course, I had to think about it, at least for a while. These decisions were part of the project, and I am a human being living in this world who has to make these kinds of decisions. Even the Saints had to decide where to lay their heads, right? I was so relieved when the job was over and I could get back to regular life, just keeping my house clean and my babies fed and cared for. I didn’t like my mind being filled with thoughts of things, things, things! It’s not wrong to like nice things, but I’m struck by the reading from Daniel 6:12-28 today and how badly it went for the king when his love of wealth and finery became disordered. God made us and placed us in this amazing world. We are here to enjoy it and be a part of it. Silver, gold, wood, and stone—these are all elements of the beautiful world we live in. Our job is to keep it ordered. We can like nice things, but ultimately our most important job is to glorify God, “in whose hand is your very breath and the whole course of your life” (Daniel 5:23). We can love the world we live in, always remembering that God made it and we are His. How can you glorify God today? [bctt tweet="Our most important job is to glorify God. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

My husband is an immigration attorney, and I’m always so fascinated by the stories he tells of the men and women who come to our great nation seeking to become citizens. Many of Paul’s clients leave behind real suffering and strife in their home countries for a better life here, in our land of abundance. We live in a wonderful, blessed country. In today’s reading from Ephesians, we hear of our true identity, which is deeper and more profound for each one of us personally than our earthly home. While our nation of birth or residency is important for us, the Kingdom of God is greater still. And, it unites us in a way nationality does not. “You are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:19). This household where we have citizenship, “built upon the foundation of the Apostles and prophets,” is held together by Christ Jesus Himself (Ephesians 2:20). He is the “capstone,” the high point and crowning achievement of this structure. The universal community of believers is a sacred temple to the Lord, held together by Jesus. And this entity, built together by God, becomes a dwelling place of Him. Together, we as believers are a dwelling place for God. We are a living temple of the Lord! What an honor to be a part of something so great. How transformative for each one of us to have citizenship in this everlasting, sacred household of God. For as much as we celebrate the goodness of what God has provided for us in the land in which we live, our citizenship in the household of God is greater still. How does this idea of being a fellow citizen and member of God’s household resonate with you today? [bctt tweet="We as believers are a dwelling place for God. // Rachel Balducci" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion