My son, when you come to serve the Lord, stand in justice and fear, prepare yourself for trials. Be sincere of heart and steadfast, incline your ear and receive the word of understanding, undisturbed in the time of adversity. // Sirach 2:1 Seed catalogs lay scattered across our kitchen table. Graph paper nearby, and, with a sharpened pencil in hand, I am ready. In this month, where we in western New York find ourselves hunkered down, knowing we’ll see snow for many more weeks, planning a garden is a shining spot amidst dreary days. I am not one to claim a green thumb, but I can research and plan with ease. Plopped in the middle of our nearly two acres is a little gated garden, fenced to protect from deer and purposefully situated just far enough away from the black walnut trees, threatening to kill certain plants before they even sprout. Half is plotted out to allow for ground plants, while the other half boasts two spacious raised beds. With five growing boys, I have high hopes for this garden. I always hope for a great garden return to offset rising grocery costs. But of course, not being a committed or particularly talented gardener, it typically results in a few veggies and not the ideal fully stocked fridge. In today’s First Reading (Sirach 2:1-11), we are reminded to both prepare ourselves and to trust in the Lord. Both are necessary for a healthy spiritual life. Just as I am enthusiastic about my garden preparations, so we must prepare ourselves. But instead of stopping there, diligence and perseverance are required to continue to grow in virtue. Trusting in the Lord is not a one-time decision, but a perpetual choice to nurture and prune of our souls. Lent begins tomorrow, and this is the Church’s gift to you of time set aside to do exactly this. When the weeds of life attack, your preparations and strong roots will stay strong. And when winds, pests, and disease threaten, you can turn back to what you know is good and true and remove what is not of God. I challenge you to take time during Lent to “study the generations long past and understand” (Sirach 2:10). Look up and read about a saint who has gone before you and been victorious. Two saint books I’ve thoroughly enjoyed recently are Pray for Us by Meg Hunter-Kilmer and In Caelo Et In Terra: 365 Days With The Saints from the Pauline Sisters. What would you like to read next?

A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. // Revelation 12:1 Sometimes motherhood is a lovingly gathered bouquet of flowers plucked too close to the stem. Sometimes it’s holding a raspy toddler upright in a steamy bathroom to better help him breathe. At times, it’s being the recipient of a shy wave from across the room when they see you’ve arrived. Or being a trusted ear when adolescent woes begin. Sometimes it’s channeling mama-bear rage into advocating effectively for your child. Or it’s modeling virtue by practice or by admitting lack thereof. It may start as being the one who fulfills everything a babe might want or need. And grow into standing still while encouraging them forward into greater independence to become who they were meant to be. But each of these is just a glance into the fierce love every mother is capable of. Today we honor Mary in her appearance at Guadalupe to a native man, Juan Diego. By all accounts, he was ordinary and not outstanding. But Mary saw him differently and loved him as only a mother can. Our readings today from Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a and Luke 1 depict different aspects of Our Heavenly Mama. On one hand, we have her courageous humility and profound trust in God’s plan in her fiat. And then in the reading from Revelation, Mary is crowned with stars and ready to do battle, her own mama-bear ferocity shining forth. The more I am able to ponder my relationship to my sons and also appreciate my own mother, I am struck with the gift of Mary’s motherhood to each of us. She’s here, loving you with a fierce love, and ready to be who you need in this moment. Take a moment today to ponder Mary’s words to Saint Juan Diego and consider how Mary has been and can be a mother to you also: “Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold?” [bctt tweet="Mary has been and can be a mother to you. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

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 have the strength for everything through him who empowers me. // Philippians 4:12-13 The fridge had been stocked with a dozen eggs, rashers of bacon, plump sausages, rosy red tomatoes, and a freshly baked loaf of bread. Our Irish vacation was underway. Thrilled to be renting a house, our group of American students had grand plans to make our very own traditional Irish breakfast. Arriving far past sunset the night before, we’d found our lodgings lacking in necessities like towels and top sheets, but no matter, we made do with what we found. The sun arose, and a trio of us traipsed downstairs to the kitchen only to find it empty of any appliances or wares save for a baking sheet, two plates, a butter knife, and a single wooden spoon. How were we going to grill tomatoes let alone scramble eggs? Thankfully, we were young and lighthearted; changes were made to the menu, and laughter turned trials into memories. In Saint Paul’s letter to the Church in today’s reading (Philippians 4:10-19), I’m reminded of the Christian life and growth that happens as we continually place our trust in Christ. Paul wrote, “I have learned the secret of . . . living in abundance and of being in need. I have the strength for everything through Him who empowers me.” The secret isn’t to know everything, have everything, or be able to do it all ourselves. Instead, we’re called to rely on each other through the Church. That breakfast made solely with a wooden spoon could have become a disaster if we’d focused on all we lacked, but instead we delighted in friends, making good use of what was present, and managing to pull off an almost perfect “Irish breakfast.” Instead of striving for independence, let us strive for the self-sufficiency that Saint Paul had, flowing out of his trust in God. Our sisterhood here at Blessed is She is a living example of the beauty of community, of women ready to stand alongside you in joy and trials. You’re invited to join in. Not sure how? Start here. [bctt tweet="We’re called to rely on each other through the Church. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

[B]e obedient to your human masters with fear and trembling, in sincerity of heart, as to Christ, not only when being watched, as currying favor, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, willingly serving the Lord and not men. // Ephesians 6:5-7 “Ugh! I just cannot get it right!” Crumpling yet another piece of paper, I tossed my latest drawing towards the recycle pile. I glanced over at my younger sister; even at age five, her talent far outshone mine. And I gave up. Clearly, I wasn’t ever going to be good at art. My perfectionist streak has reared its ugly head many times in my life, and one way I find it cripples me is in tactile activities I know there’s a strong chance of me not being great at. I consider a new hobby or activity, realize the work and talent called for, and often give up before I begin. It’s truly a mental block that prevents me from moving forward on things that have the possibility of being fun, yet I shy away from even starting. Today’s reading from Ephesians 6:1-9 might feel like it doesn’t apply to you: children, fathers, slaves, masters. Though we might not fit into those categories, even in our modern world, we’re still born into or placed in scenarios or realities that we don’t feel we deserve. My struggle with perfectionism limits what I can mentally tackle; it’s something I have to fight against in order to thrive. Yours could be a different mental health struggle. Maybe you grew up in a broken home or perhaps your husband or child has passed away. In spite of whatever unfair things we face, by the grace of God, we can suffer well. Our mindset must be to serve our loving Father, doing His will by striving for excellence and doing so for His glory. We can overcome because He will not leave us in our broken places. And even though the hand we’ve been dealt might lead to suffering on earth, ultimately it can pave our way to Heaven when offered back to Him. One of my favorite prayers when I’m feeling overwhelmed by suffering is the Litany of the Sacred Heart. Pray it with me today. [bctt tweet="He will not leave us in our broken places. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand the things freely given us by God. // 1 Corinthians 2:12 “Appas! I have appas!” My eighteen-month old’s cry to the untrained ear seemed to be a request for the crunchy autumnal fruit that grows in abundance in our western New York orchards. But no, he was not requesting an apple; he was instead asking to nurse. And as his mother, I knew exactly what he needed. I presently am in the middle of teaching my fifth child to speak, understand, and listen, and I often find myself talking more slowly, enunciating carefully, and repeating words, so he can absorb it all. Even when each child has been in the stage where words are mostly made of “uhhhs” or “daaahs,” I’m mostly able to decipher his meaning. In today’s reading, Saint Paul is writing to the Early Church with encouragement that the Holy Spirit is the only One Who fully understands the deep mysteries of our Faith. But He wants to reveal them to the Church. And even when we know some mysteries and teachings are difficult, we can find hope and be encouraged by this. When we allow our minds and hearts to be formed by God and are looking to grow in our knowledge of Him, we will be more in tune with the mystery of the gift of faith. Just as my love and attentiveness to my children’s gurgles has allowed me to make sense of what they’re trying to communicate, so my love of God and dedication to learning about Who He is through the reading of Scripture, Catechism, and other sacred texts enables me to begin to unpack all of the mysteries and truth to be found. I encourage you to dig into an aspect of our faith that you might have shied away from or would like to know more about. Grab a book—many Saints, or even more modern-day Catholics like Dr. Scott Hahn or Venerable Fulton Sheen have beautiful insights into the Sacraments and Bible. Or maybe a captivating podcast or YouTube channel fits into your life better. I invite you to make a commitment to grow in your knowledge of God and the faith He has gifted to you. [bctt tweet="Make a commitment. // Sarah Ortiz " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was great calm. // Matthew 8:26 The date had been scrawled on the calendar for nearly a month. RSVPs had trickled in. We were having an adults-only party for the first time since becoming parents. And then hours before our friends were to arrive, it began. Was that dust on the window sill? Would they be repelled by our mismatched curtains? Had I prepared enough appetizers? Where was the wine bottle opener? What if somebody was coming that didn’t like another guest? My apprehension was building. I could feel my insides starting to boil into an anxiety-fueled hurricane. My head was pounding, the blood was throbbing in my hands, and I felt like curling up into a ball. This party I’d been so excited for, I now felt like canceling because it all felt like too much. As someone who has battled anxiety to some degree my whole life, this wasn’t a new situation. My storms often went unseen, fluctuating between calm periods and times of raging. Our storms may look similar or be vastly different. Maybe yours includes marriage or other relationship struggles. Perhaps your mental health struggles go even deeper. At the mention of having a storm in your life, I am sure something rises to the surface of your mind. These storms are real and can overwhelm us on our own. Invite Him in, let Him sit with you in your boat. The storms might not always be calmed the way we might wish, but it’s so important to realize His presence even as clouds threaten. No matter what storm is flaring up in your life right now, be assured of His presence. We often expect Jesus to be doing something, but sometimes He is simply fully with us in our times of fear and struggle. If you’re feeling lost in a storm this week, reach out to a friend and ask her to sit with you where you are. Write out “I am not alone,” putting it somewhere you’ll see it often. Take your turmoil to Adoration. And don’t hide in your fear or anxiety. He is there with you. Author’s note: if you’re experiencing mental health issues, it’s okay and good to seek professional help. [bctt tweet="He is there with you. // Sarah Ortiz " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But they continued their shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” // Luke 23:21 Today’s Gospel is a lengthy one. Our parish gives the lay people the optional minuscule participant part. Minor though it may be, I cringe every single time. The role? The crowd, with joined voices, jeering, “Crucify him!” Every fiber of my being trembles as I speak those words aloud, struck by the times I’ve been in that crowd. Maybe I never literally went in one week from praising His name to calling for His destruction, but when I choose sin, I choose death. Each sin, a rejection of His love. Perhaps you’ve been a member of this fickle horde. Maybe you’ve been one of the many silent bystanders, who said nothing but also, did nothing. But as we step into Holy Week, may I offer you hope? Saints were made this week. Their choice to follow Jesus set men and women on a trajectory for Heaven. A woman proffering a cloth to our Lord as He passed, and having it returned with a miraculous image of His face? Saint Veronica. A thief, justly accused and sentenced to die, who in his last minutes recognized God in the man next to Him, and begged to be remembered when Jesus came into His kingdom? Saint Dismas. A Roman centurion presiding over the death of three convicts, who pierced the side of Christ, literally being covered by the blood and water that gushed forth from His side, and then claimed, “Truly this is the Son of God”? Saint Longinus. The faithful women and disciple who never left His side, actively being present to the anguish He bore? Saints Mary Magdalene, Mary Clopus, and John. Two prestigious men who had the courage to request the body of the man they had come to recognize as Lord? Saints Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. Through the raw beauty of suffering, and coming alongside Christ in His Passion, ordinary women and men became extraordinary Saints. Pause today, before we continue into Holy Week, to ponder who you will be. Will you be a woman walking with Him in His suffering, another step closer to Heaven? [bctt tweet="Saints were made this week. // Sarah Ortiz " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home. // Matthew 1:24 You probably already know this, but today marks the Solemnity of Saint Joseph. Perhaps like me, you’ll be shaping bread in the shape of a staff or hammer. Maybe you’ll be making an Italian feast or creating a Saint Joseph’s altar. Hopefully you'll have a chance to attend Mass or at least read a Biblical account of his life. As Catholics, we often hear his name invoked to aid in buying or selling a house, in hopes for a new job, and for a holy and happy death. Coming from a non-Catholic upbringing, I paid little to no attention to this Saint the majority of my life. Seeing how little he appeared in the Gospels, I deduced Joseph was a lesser character with little for me to learn from. Wrong I was! No words are recorded from Saint Joseph, and since he died prior to Jesus’ ministry beginning, stories are scarce as well. And yet, from the seeming silence, we can still obtain much. From the promise made to King David in today’s first reading (1 Samuel 7), it’s clear Joseph was always a part of the plan, not an accidental pawn. However, he wasn't given a preview of the plan; he just acted when called. Twice an angel appeared in life-altering dreams, and Joseph accepted what was asked. Jesus and Mary were the priority—without Saint Joseph’s listening and acting in obedience, the plan might have failed. But all this was possible because of the state of his heart. Saint Francis DeSales has a beautiful quote that says, “for as he was just, his will was always submissive, united, and conformed to that of God” (source). And this is where we can learn from and emulate this great Saint. Take time to assess if you’re truly aligning your will to that of God. Are you attuned to the Holy Spirit prompting you? When God leads you into a new plan, do you willingly follow and obey? Saint Joseph’s submission to the will of God and his love for those entrusted to him shines brighter than a lack of words spoken. Saint Joseph lived with the goal of love and was given the mission of protecting his Protector, providing for his Provider, and guarding his Messiah. Saint Joseph, pray for us. [bctt tweet="Saint Joseph lived with the goal of love. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Can I bring dinner by?” The response on the tip of my tongue was, “No, of course not; we’ll be fine.” We hadn’t had a baby, lost a loved one, or even moved houses. But my dear friend saw the stress etched across my face from the life situations stacking up. The end of the school year, my mom hospitalized in a different state, and a pile of work. I was simply drowning. Her simple offer helped me realize I wasn’t left alone. God knew my state of frailty and offered me life support through the hands of another. Besides that dinner offer, over the weeks, many women reached out, offering a listening ear and an arm to bolster me. Their existence as willing sisters blessed my moments and also, built me up; their strength pulled me through the rough days and gave me hope. In our reading today (Ruth 1), the scene is set for the entire book: two women have suffered the tragedy of losing their husbands. Naomi encourages her daughter-in-law, Ruth, to return to her own people, but instead Ruth chooses to stick by her older non-blood relative. These women have formed a bond, prioritizing looking out for each other. I encourage you to read through the rest of this short book. Beginning with Ruth coming alongside Naomi to support her, working in the fields so they could both eat, and then wrapping up with Naomi helping Ruth make wise decisions about her future, this book speaks volumes about faithfulness and loyalty. As women, we carry a unique expression of the heart of God. We can emulate the compassion and empathy in Him and offer that gift to one another. Be emboldened by your feminine genius to be sensitive to those around you and generous as you lend your arms in support. Praise God for those moments when others have stood alongside you in your hardship, and ask the Holy Spirit to open your eyes to when your sisters need the same from you. [bctt tweet="Be emboldened by your feminine genius. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I lug my overly pregnant self onto the couch at the end of the day. My husband still isn’t home from his late-night classes, but I’ve successfully tucked my other two boys into bed. The baby inside gives a good, hard kick indicative of how restful, or not, this moment might be. Leftovers have been packed away, and the dishes are drying in the rack. And that is the extent of my wins for the day. I wonder to myself if I’m using the gifts God has given me or if they’re beginning to collect dust. I’ve found myself here again and again throughout the years. Whether in the long days of mothering toddlers or working multiple monotonous jobs to cover bills, I’ve felt disconnected from my gifts. I lose sight of how God is using the gifts He’s blessed me with. In today’s reading, I look at Abram, later to be known as Abraham, the Father of the Israelite nation and looking at the whole story, I can almost laugh at his doubt. When he asks God, “O Lord God, what good will your gifts be, if I keep on being childless and have as my heir the steward of my house?” (Genesis 15:2), Abram is attempting to see and understand the promises of God. In his narrow-minded view, God is offering the impossible: both children and land. Oftentimes we don’t get to see the Big Picture. But we make space for fruition by trusting in Him and allowing the Holy Spirit to help us make use of our talents. Instead of worrying about what I am accomplishing now, I can thank Him for those gifts and let God’s purposes be glorified in His timing. It’s easy to get stuck in dry or unexciting seasons and lose sight of God’s promises. Write down the talents He’s given you. Ask trusted friends what gifts they see in you and keep note of them. And when you’re feeling frustrated, pull them out and praise God for shaping you into a unique being specifically worked into His big plan. [bctt tweet="Don't lose sight of God’s promises." username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion  

I hear the cries before my four year old even makes it into the house. Huge sobs as he pushes open the door, screens slamming behind. Bursting into the kitchen, he sees me and points at the cause of sorrow—a scraped and bleeding knee. Scooping him up, I explain how I’ll wash it and apply ointment before I cover it in a bandage. Fully believing in the power of the band-aid, he cries out, “No! Just a band-aid! That’ll make it better!” A quick patch up often seems appealing. Cover the pain, the open wound, the memories. Oftentimes we are fine settling for “good enough.” But then the band-aid gets dirty and falls off. The cover-up is gone and the need for true healing is apparent. It’s the same with our hearts. As we venture into this third week of Lent, what deeper healing do we need? Where have we settled for a quick fix rather than the deep transformation of God’s healing touch? God longs for us to allow Him in, to let Him go deep into our festering, hidden wounds. Those words spoken by others tearing down your dignity. Shame rearing its ugly head, telling us we aren’t worthy. Broken relationships leaving us feeling empty. Hidden sin we’re sure is sliding under the radar unnoticed. Brokenness we’ve patched but haven’t allowed to be healed. Sister, bring these wounds to Christ. If you haven’t yet this season, go to Confession. Experience tangible reconciliation with the One Who longs to see you healed all the way through. He loves you enough to want to go past the surface and dive deep into true healing of your heart and soul. Let Him begin that healing work in you. [bctt tweet="Let Him begin the healing work in you. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Pick one wound to bring to the Lord today.  

"Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:2). Again, today on Ash Wednesday, you are called to this time, a season set aside for a reset of your soul. Mother Church has a call for you, a reminder of your need for a Savior. The marking of a cross will be placed upon the foreheads of Christians around the globe uniting us all in our resolve. It is time. Receive the sign as a gift of opportunity, an invitation to walk palms open and surrendered into this season of penance. The ashes used are last year’s Palm Sunday branches, what was a living piece of a palm tree, burned until charred. Resolve to dig up and root out sin in your life, planting Christ in its place, so He can grow within you. The charred dust is a reminder of the flames that burned down the branches. Pray for God to help you burn away the sinful habits and desires that have crept into your life to instead make a place for the fire of Christ to be enkindled in you. As you practice penance this season, may your aim be to kill the vice within you and give life to virtue. In humility, fasting and almsgiving will help you see yourself as you truly are, requiring an inventory of the bad and the ugly. Our response is necessary for this spiritual growth and holy fire. You are invited to the Way of the Cross, to walk alongside Christ to the place of death. To be reminded of your mortality and to embrace suffering. You are asked to rend your heart. To trust in the loving hand of the Father Who wants to see you at the end of this Lenten journey: the joy of Easter and with life in abundance. Now is the acceptable time. [bctt tweet="Now is the acceptable time. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Have you picked one prayer practice for this Lent? Pray with this today.

I wheeled the minivan into the parking lot, thankful for a few extra minutes to shuttle my sons into the venue. Their hesitant faces peered out as the sliding door opened. A few weeks before I’d enrolled them in rock climbing classes; now it was time, and ‘thrilled’ was not the word to describe their countenances that morning. It had been years since I was up on the wall. I was sure the same opportunity to tangibly face fears and overcome challenges I had experienced in climbing would benefit them also. Not only would it consume energy, but they'd have to confront doubt and push past it. As someone who shies away from heights and prefers the contentment of feeling safe, I thought back on my first time climbing. I had reached for a grip just out of my hand’s range, slipped and caught myself, sliding and falling. I knew even as I doubted, I still needed to see it was possible to climb higher and move through those fears. In today’s Gospel (Luke 7:18B-23), John the Baptist sends two of his followers to ask Jesus if He was Who says He is. Perhaps they had doubts necessitating reaffirmation. Maybe they just wanted the answer: Was Jesus Who they’d been looking for? At times we need those reminders. Our Savior’s response to those men in its most basic form was: What have you seen and heard? What has your experience been? In my mind I can recollect what I believe, reading in Holy Scripture and the Catechism about the truths of our Faith. But we are women in physical bodies and sometimes, we need tangible nudges, too. This year has challenged me as I’ve experienced the loss of many physical connections; most likely many of you have as well. But I have seen and heard Him. I’ve witnessed love through friends who’ve delivered dinner on my doorstep, felt the care of my children through their sweet hugs, and seen people rise up to serve their hurting neighbors. Jesus is still present among us. The Church is alive. Recall what you have seen and heard, and have hope. [bctt tweet="Jesus is still present among us. // Sarah Ortiz " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Sit with Our Lord today in Adoration and ask Him to help bring your hopes alive, again.

“No! Don’t . . .” my words hung in the air as a tiny hand dragged the basket across the counter. A precariously perched knife toppled from atop the peanut butter jar to the floor (sticky-side down, of course). And a glass unseen by the possessor of the hand, rocked for a moment before also toppling to add to the disaster. Realizing his mistake in ignoring my request to wait a moment until I could help, my young son turned and sobbed out, “But I didn’t know that would happen.” This is me with God again and again: jumping into situations, thinking I know best, only to realize His knowledge goes far beyond mine. In today’s readings, both in the first from Ezekiel and in the Psalm, the focus is on sheep. These woolly farm animals are often compared to us as followers of Jesus, the Shepherd. But the First Reading comes with a warning, “The sleek and the strong I will destroy, shepherding them rightly . . . I will judge between one sheep and another, between rams and goats” (Ezekiel 16-17). These sheep, set for destruction, are the ones who refuse to be shepherded. What they lack is the virtue of docility, a willingness to be taught and to take correction peacefully. Instead they fight for their own way, persisting in pride or perhaps even laziness. It’s easy to be docile when we are aware of our hopelessness in a situation, such as when we must rely on a doctor’s wisdom or a lawyer’s advice. But how can we practice docility in our whole life, especially in our faith? It’s easy to be quick to judge a homily that didn’t "seem" Catholic enough or argue a Scripture teaching is "too" conservative or a Church doctrine "too" liberal. But are we projecting our own notions or letting the Holy Spirit stretch and mold us? Are we digging into the teachings of Mother Church and aspiring to grow? Are we willing to change personal opinions and preferences to align more with the Truth? [bctt tweet="His knowledge goes far beyond mine. // Sarah Ortiz " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Dig deeper about "how-to" with our detailed guide.

My flashlight lights a meager circle around my body as I clumsily shove my feet into flip-flops, unzip the flap as quietly as I can, and step out of my tent. I shine the light to the right and left hoping to scare away any snakes and bigger vermin as I hold my three year old and make my way along the path to the bath house, a cement building straight ahead, glowing from buzzing fluorescents. Seven years ago my husband and I found ourselves at dead ends in our search for deeper truth. We both grew up devout Protestants having always known and loved Jesus. Our community had supported us through engagement and the early years of marriage, as well as the births of our first two children. Yet the questions we had were increasingly met with unsatisfactory answers. One such query that we couldn’t get out of our minds was regarding birth control. We were married and open to life and were, of course, against abortion, but were unsettled inside with a blasé answer. If birth control wasn’t a big deal, why was the answer to why it was permissible so often skirted around? We found ourselves immersing our minds and souls in the Word of God, the Catechism, papal documents, and the lives of the Saints. And slowly, that circle of light widened. As we cast our flashlight deeper into the darkness around us, we were able to see more clearly the path leading onward. Not only did we find that our questions about birth control answered with a truer understanding of the workings of a woman’s body, the beauty of marital communication, and the goodness of sacrifice, but this expanded to us seeing depth in many areas of our lives. The Catholic life is a process. I don’t know everything. I still struggle through teachings I find hard, but as I shine the light of His Word to the sides of the path, Jesus brightens my path. And I see Home in the full light of the Father pouring His love down into His bride, the Church. [bctt tweet="Jesus brightens my path. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Learn more about RCIA in this post.