Do you know anyone who had an instant conversion? I think of Saul and the radical step he took when Jesus appeared to him. Saul thought that he had the truth. He thought that he was upholding it against a schismatic sect. I wonder if his change of heart was made so easily, because he was already seeking the truth. As a Jew, he knew that he was awaiting the Christ, the Messiah, and he recognized the truth in the bright flash of light and the answer to his question: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.” Saul, whom we know as Saint Paul, wanted to do what was right, thought that he was doing it, but was willing to change the moment he recognized his mistake. This is clear in his letter to the Philippians: “If any other man thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law a Pharisee, as to zeal a persecutor of the church, as to righteousness under the law blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.” (Phil 3:4-7) At the moment of his conversion, Saint Paul knew who Jesus was. He had spent his whole life learning the truths of his faith, and because he was so accustomed to the truth, he recognized it when he sought it. We, too, should never stop seeking to know the truth more fully. The more we learn about our faith, the more familiar we will be with the truth, and the more easily we will be able to recognize it and accept it in our lives. Just as we develop habits to overcome our vices and become virtuous, we can be in the habit of seeking the truth. Then when we are presented with hard truths about our selves, we can make the immediate necessary change. For example, it is really easy for me to get into habits that are not always good for me, and often my husband points them out. Now, I can respond by recognizing the truth of what he says and working to change my ways or I can respond by ignoring the truth and persevering in my faults. God wants us to be so open to Him and the truth that we recognize when our actions and our hearts need to be converted. We need to strive every day for that deeper conversion. And like Saint Paul, we must do it through prayer, and recognize that we cannot do anything without Christ. It is so easy to deny the truth about ourselves and justify our actions. In what ways do you need to humble yourself before God and seek His grace to change? Susanna Spencer once studied theology and philosophy, but now happily cares for her three adorable little girls and her dear husband. You can find out more about her here. photo credit

Nearly twenty-two years since the miscarriage, I still remember the salad. Crisp greens, crunchy-sweet purple grapes, pecans, and gorgonzola, all drizzled with poppy seed dressing. No one brings you food after you miscarry. Champagne corks don’t pop in the labor room while you feast ravenously after the hard work of delivery. Instead, you sit in quiet recovery and swallow hard to push dry saltines past the lump in your throat. When you go home, there are no covered casseroles borne by church ladies carrying pink or blue balloons. Mostly, people just mumble something and avert their eyes, or they ignore the loss and you altogether. Not Martha. She walked through my front door with my favorite salad and then sat at my kitchen table to hear my heart while I tried to eat and cry at the same time. It was manna. Before she arrived, I had no idea how hungry I was—in my belly and in my heart. With the meal, came the tangible nourishment of both body and soul. With the real food, came the real gift. It was food that gave my soul sustenance to heal. She knew I needed to eat; she also knew that I needed her presence in my grief. When God comes to us in the sacraments, He imparts to us tangible, extravagant grace. He literally nourishes us with the gift of His friendship. Our Creator understands us. Even in our most private, painful writhing, He sees us. God doesn't look away. The grace gift—friendship with our Lord—is one He allows us to taste and touch and see. He walks right through the front door with the gift of Himself and invites us to eat, while He waits. And then, in the intimate moments of communion, He hears our hearts. This extraordinary meal nourishes the wounded with God Himself and He heals us. You? Standing, at your kitchen counter, cutting sandwiches into triangles or squares? You also bring grace to the people you feed. Today, in the mundane moments of peeling potatoes or stirring soup, consider the people you bless. Make your preparation in the kitchen a litany of love. Then, share the grace of a meal or a loaf of bread or a slice of pie with someone who needs to be nourished by the gift of your friendship. Elizabeth Foss is a wife, the mother of nine, and a grandmother. She finds the cacophony of big family imperfection to be the perfect place to learn to walk in the unforced rhythms of grace. You can learn more about her here. photo credit

Is there a more beautiful, human picture of the resurrection than conversion? Of course we know (or at least try to know) the depth and power that the literal resurrection has. It's mystical and magical but not too far-fetched to believe when seen with the eyes of faith. But still God seems to enjoy reaching way down into us to show us a real, earthly, human portrait of what the His love for us truly means. And the conversion of the human person is the story of a soul's resurrection, isn't it? Didn't Saul seem dead and gone? Even more dead and gone than if he had physically died, perhaps. A black soul, a lost cause, a son of darkness. "Ravaging the church" . . . ravaging. It isn't hard to imagine a modern evil that ravages. Abortion, adultery, murder, abandonment, hatred, lust, greed. Lost causes? No. Jesus' promise does not fail, even for a soul like Saul's. The conversion of Saint Paul is so mind-blowing and surreal that I can't help but to trust the words of Christ implicitly when he says, "I will raise him up on the last day." Because He will, won't He? Because He did. How weak my faith is, so often, when it comes to really trusting God's ability to reach down into the heart of man and turn him towards the Light. How beautiful the story of Saul. How beautiful the story of you and me. We should only hope always, shouldn't we? Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 5 smallish kids. She homeschools and loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. You can find out more about her here. photo credit

"C'mon, Lord, just give me sign," I prayed as I knelt before the tabernacle in our empty and quiet cathedral. My knees were getting tired from the cold marble floor while my face burned hot with dry tears wiped away with weary hands. I was in a difficult situation, uncertain about which way to go, and I wanted, no, I demanded, a sign from God. How often do we ask for signs from Him? How often do we wait for the sky to open, light to pour out onto our faces, and the very voice of God, similar to Morgan Freeman's, of course, to account in detail what He would like for us to do. How often do we test the providence of Jesus by looking for blatant signs from Him? How often do we throw up our hands in discouragement and frustration with the Holy Spirit when we don't see any roses after dutifully completing our novena to Saint Therese? How often do we echo the crowd's words to Jesus in today's Gospel: Then what sign do you do, that we may see, and believe you? What work do you perform? As I waited (im)patiently for my sign that day in the cathedral, I grew to realize that my sign had been right in front of me the entire time. Locked away in a small shrine of gold was my Sign. Dwelling humbly and powerfully in the recesses of that church was my Sign of God's providence. The Eucharist. The Eucharist, the bread from heaven, the bread of life, is all the sign we need, sisters. What greater sign of His love, care, and fidelity could the Lord show you than being so adamantly enamored with you that He refused to be physically separated from you until Heaven and remains humbly under the guise of simple bread just so He can be near your heart? What else could He do to prove greater provision? As we go about our days today, days full joy and triumph and challenges and work, let us remember to feast on our Sign, the Bread of Life, so that we may not hunger nor thirst, but have our fill of all we need. We beg the Lord to send us a sign, to show up for us. And He does, every single day in the Eucharist. Olivia Spears is a middle school religion teacher turned SAHM who is married to her high school best friend. You can find out more about her here..

In my home, in my relationships, I have a tendency to do stuff for people, rather than to do stuff with people. I’ll happily spend time cooking meals for them, or baking elaborate cakes for them, or rearranging closets for them, or creating organizational systems for them. Acts of love and of service, and those are good things. Clearly hot dinners and accessible closets are good things in themselves as well. But the problem is when I stop there. Because those are the perishables about which Jesus is talking. Dinner, that’s perishable for sure . . . gone in twenty minutes. Maybe a couple of days if I made enough for leftovers. The closets? Well, we all know those weren’t going to stay the way I put them, no matter HOW great my new bin system was. How can I serve God and the people around me in eternal ways? By giving them myself, not just my accomplishments. By focusing on how I’m loving God and the people he has put in my day-to-day life in all the ways you can’t admire on a plate or check off of a checklist or post on Instagram. I can let my kids help in the kitchen, even though that makes everything go s-o-o-o-o m-u-c-h s-l-o-w-e-r. I can plan ahead and have dinner prepped, so I can stop what I’m doing when my husband gets home from work and I can greet him. I can take my mom to see that movie she wants to see. I can write my grandmother a letter, to tell her all the things I already told everyone on Facebook. I get so caught up in how many things I can accomplish with my time that I overlook how important it is to to spend time in being, not just in doing. I forget to labor not ONLY for the perishable things of today, but also for things eternal. The things that really matter. Let’s waste time on and with the people we love today. Let’s waste time with God, in prayer, in reading his word, before the blessed sacrament. Kendra Tierney can be found blogging, homeschooling, and gestating Tierney baby number eight in Los Angeles, CA. You can find out more about her here.

I like comfortable. I like stretchy pants, and my coffee mug, and I would rather watch a movie that I’ve already seen and enjoyed over watching a new film. I don’t care for change, and I really don’t like the unknown and the frightening. And yet, here we are, preparing for the birth of a new child, and I’m afraid. When I was pregnant with my son, I spent most of my time consumed with sickness. As his due date loomed nearer, I started to get scared. I was aiming for an unmedicated birth, and the unknown was terrifying. By being open to a new life, I had chosen to walk on to this boat and make my way to a destination without knowing what the journey would look like. It was a long winter, and a cold spring. One night, in the later evening hours I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe. I dragged my husband out on the porch with me, and he sat and held my hand while I cried and we watched the flakes of a late spring snowfall whirl around our neighborhood. And there in the thirty degree chill of night, I confessed my fear. I was afraid of dying. I was afraid of the unknown of childbirth. He spoke truth to me. He reminded me that he would be by my side, that I was strong, and most importantly, that God would be with me throughout it all. The day of my son’s birth came, and I took each contraction one at a time. And like the men in that small boat, I invited Christ to step in with me. Not necessarily to end it all, but rather to be with me as we weathered this storm together. I love that so many of our physical experiences can speak truth about our spiritual ones. How often have I been afraid of the unknown? How many times have I doubted that Christ could walk into the messy storm of my life and calm the raging seas that unbalance me? What does the storm in your life look like? Are you waiting for the storm to settle or have you invited Christ to step in and love you in this turbulent time? Jacqueline Skemp is a daughter, sister, wife and mother who endures living in Minnesota after leaving California for her one true love. You can find out more about her here.

There was a period in my life when I didn't even bother to serve myself breakfast or lunch; sleep-deprived and in the constant swirl of meeting the needs of many small people, I often just slogged along through my days foraging left over bits of bread crusts, chicken nuggets, and peas—lots of peas—from my kids’ plates. Looking back, I can see what a terrible habit that was, but in the moment, it seemed perfectly normal to me to never expect to sit, be fed, and feel full because I was too busy serving the needs of others. How often we fall into that same habit spiritually! I can easily hit a pace in my life where prayer and quiet and Sabbath rest come as scraps I grab as I run through life meeting everyone else’s needs, never giving myself permission to seek the true soul nourishment I need. No spiritual life can be sustained on a constant diet of scraps. And Jesus never intended for us to feed others while we starved ourselves. He shows us that in today’s Gospel. In this story, Jesus feeds people. He was not expecting to feed them. He had not invited them to lunch. Yet he saw that they were hungry, and he longed to meet their need for nourishment—to feed them, and to fill them. The story alludes more than once to the fact that this was not a “grab what you can get and be thankful” kind of meal. Jesus, He spread a spacious table with room for everyone, for the story says “there was much grass in the place.” And everyone sat down and ate “as much as they wanted” until “they had eaten their full.” You see, Jesus doesn't want you to make a habit of surviving on spiritual scraps, even in the busiest seasons of your life. He wants you to spread out your blanket in the sunshine and sit with Him, while He provides you all that you need to feel full and see that there is still plenty left for everyone else. Rather than passing yourself by to meet everyone else’s needs first, He longs for you to let Him fill you, nourish you, nurture you, until you have eaten your full. There is enough for you in Him. And there will be enough left over for those you serve to be fed too. Let the Lord feed you today, and savor the goodness He has to offer and the feeling of being truly full. Choose one meal today and take the time to serve yourself a full, filling plate—on your real dishes with your own fork or spoon. Sit and eat slowly. As you do, ask God to fill you too, with all the spiritual goodness you need to face your day and serve your people well. Colleen Mitchell is wife to Greg and mother to five amazing sons here on earth. They serve in Costa Rica where they run the St. Francis Emmaus Center, a ministry that welcomes indigenous mothers into their home to provide them access to medical care, support and education in the weeks before and after the birth of a child. Find out more about her here.

I was recently faced with a difficult circumstance: I was among a group of my colleagues, whom I love and respect very much, when a topic came up that I knew went against my conscience and the teachings of my Faith. I'm ashamed to admit how I often detest those situations, rather than choosing to joyfully embrace them! In the moment, I really didn't have the opportunity to consider my possible responses. But in hindsight I realized that it all boiled down to making one of two choices: A) Don't share my viewpoint, out of the fear of making others a bit uncomfortable or that I will ultimately be less admired (but feel a little inauthentic doing so); -or- B) Do share my viewpoint and just let it be, recognizing that my voice is equally important to those of my colleagues and that, in the end, it’s really not about me. It’s about Him. "We strictly charged you not to speak in this name . . . ." While we don't have the clear directive from the high priests forbidding us to speak the truth of Jesus in our everyday lives, I think it's fair to say that we do have high levels of cultural expectation that we keep our religious lives private: Heaven forbid we make someone feel uncomfortable by “rocking the boat” and going against the grain of what is the cultural norm. "Speak the truth in love," a friend once told me, quoting Saint Paul's Letter to the Ephesians. So in that moment, that is what I tried to do. With trembling voice and pounding heart, I shared my views. It wasn't long, or eloquent, or (let's be honest) even very clear. But I did it. What resulted (praise God) was an open and honest discussion that I will never, ever regret having. I don't share this story in any way to toot my own horn, because I know all too well that for as many times as I can summon the courage to speak the Truth, there are dozens more times when I stand idly by and hope that someone else will do it for me. So let us encourage authenticity, dear sisters. Where does Truth need to be spoken in your own relationships this Easter season? Have courage to speak, in words or in actions, when Truth demands to be spoken. Karen Schultz is a Birth Doula who hails from the Land of 10,000 Lakes, where she is often found in or near one of them. You can find out more about her here.

God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. John 3:16 This may be the first Bible verse I ever learned. John 3:16 is a memory verse taught in every Protestant Sunday school in the country. It plainly states that if you believe—you are saved. Yet as the words of Saint John continue, we see a more complex picture of this in practice. And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil. The Light of Christ illuminates our actions. Those who don’t walk in the light are like roaches scurrying for the dark crevice when the light is switched on. Our knowledge and love of God, our desire to please Him, causes us to constantly strive to do better. But it is hard to have our faults exposed. Those of us living a sacramental life can take our sins to confession and start over. Washing away the darkness that creeps in over time. But if we don’t invite Christ to wash away that darkness, we become accustomed to it. It becomes our new normal and our very soul adjusts to the shadows. I have seen Catholic friends make choices that put them in opposition to the Church, then slowly fade away from the sacraments, from Mass, from the community. It is too hard to show up week after week and see their dirty souls in the light of Christ. They condemn themselves and they turn from the light. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God. Those who live in the truth will seek the light. They have confidence rather than shame. When their faults are exposed, they know confidently that they will be forgiven. They seek the light that their works are “clearly seen as done in God.” Are you a seeker of light? What are the areas in your life that you find in need of illumination? When do you find it particularly struggling to live in the light? Are there particular situations or people around whom you struggle to stay in the light? Try to hold yourself accountable this week to living in the light and not giving into the darkness, even in tough situations. MaryRuth Hackett is a full-time wife and mother doing her best to teach her four children to love God and country. You can find out more about her here.

Poor Nicodemus. Sometimes I don't know what Christ is talking about either, but usually when I do it's only because I'm on this side of the Resurrection. I've got two thousand years of smarter, holier people explaining Christ's words to me. Nicodemus just had the prophets and his own smarts. No offense to Nicodemus' intelligence, but I've got things a lot easier. But that thing about the wind blowing wherever? I don't know what He's talking about. But I do know this: the Son of Man was lifted up and whoever believes in Him may have eternal life. That truth, that cut-and-dry truth, rocks my world. It sounds preposterous, but I know it is as simple as it sounds. Let us live as one heart and soul, clinging to that truth. Let's let it permeate our lives, our friendships, our homes. Let's make every moment—no matter if it is joyful or sorrowful—ring out with the truth that our lives are radically different because the Son of Man has been lifted up and we believe in Him. We don't need to be theologians or biblical scholars to get into Heaven. We just need to believe, to know, and to love the Lord. Pray for those who are struggling with doubts and, if need be, include yourself in that prayer. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker and homemaker. She lives with her husband and five children in central Illinois. You can find out more about her here.

When I pray for the Holy Spirit to fill me with His wisdom, I’m often blown away by just how powerful that prayer can be. It seems as if He is speaking right through me. It is no longer my words, but His. My confidence comes not from my own being, but a supernatural power breathed through my very being. I’m sure the apostles had moments like these after Christ sent them forth to preach to the nations. The boldness by which they spoke must not have seemed like their own. A few years ago, I worked as a youth minister. The Lord had struck my heart with a zeal for ministering to the youth, even as a young person myself. Despite my passion for it, though, my inherent shyness had the potential to prove an obstacle in carrying out the task. I often felt my speaking skills to be insufficient for granting me the boldness I needed to proclaim our Faith to them. Once a week, I lead my youth in a faith-formative program. And once a week, I witnessed the power of the Holy Spirit at work through me. Honestly, it never felt like my words coming out of my mouth. The ideas for talks, skits, small break-out sessions surely could not have been developed by me alone. As I led them in prayer, the promptings that flowed forth could hardly have been of my own design. Saint Paul certainly recognized this: But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. (1 Corinthians 15:10) When we are born anew in Baptism and strengthened again in Confirmation by the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we gain some awesome gifts. These are powerful sacraments. The Holy Spirit becomes fully alive within us. The results of Confirmation? [A] special strength of the Holy Spirit to spread and defend the faith by word and action as true witnesses of Christ, to confess the name of Christ boldly, and never to be ashamed of the Cross. (CCC 1303) Let’s meditate today upon this prayer offered at Confirmation and ask God for a strengthening of these great gifts given to us in our daily life. Prayer at Confirmation All-powerful God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, by water and the Holy Spirit you freed your sons and daughters from sin and gave them new life. Send your Holy Spirit upon them to be their helper and guide. Give them the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of right judgment and courage, the spirit of knowledge and reverence. Fill them with the spirit of wonder and awe in your presence. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Laurel Muff is a creator and appreciator of beautiful things. She resides with her husband and daughters in Northern California. You can find more about her here.

His steadfast love endures forever . . . . His steadfast love endures forever . . . . His steadfast love endures forever. These soothing words are just what my restless heart constantly needs to be reminded of. Love is another way to describe mercy. In a lot of ways, they are words that can be used interchangeably to convey the same message. This is so fitting today as we celebrate the Holy Feast of Divine Mercy. We honor, revere, and celebrate the great loving mercy which flows from the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The greatest attributes of Jesus are that of His unending love and fathomless mercy. When I hear the phrase "Divine Mercy," I am reminded how much I need Christ to show me how to live out and be mercy to others in my daily life. How do we learn to live and be mercy in our lives? By looking at the life of the One is Divine Mercy. Jesus showed mercy to many different kinds of "outcasts" in the gospels, like the Samaritan woman at the well or the blind man Bartimaeus. Jesus was merciful even when it most difficult when He prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Jesus desires to lavishly cover us in His mercy as told to St. Faustina from her diary: The flames of mercy are burning within me. I desire to pour them out upon human souls. Oh, what pain they cause Me when they do not want to accept them! Tell them my daughter, that I am Love and Mercy itself. When a soul approaches Me with trust, I fill it with such an abundance of graces that it cannot contain them within itself, but radiates them to other souls. (1074-paragraphs 2 and 4). Ah. So that is how we learn to live out mercy, by never ceasing to ask for it; by accepting all that Jesus has freely given and wants to continue to give us. Come before the Lord with open, accepting hands for all that He so lovingly wants to bestow on each of us. Take some time today to pray from your heart "The Jesus Prayer": Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Soak in those words. Rest in the mercy of God and never tire asking Him for more. Patty Hubbard is a new-ish wife finishing grad school, working in youth ministry, and learning to cook more than your average Lean Cuisine. You can find out more about her here.

Boldness. You know that thing that stirs in your heart, convicts your mind and comes bursting out of your mouth?! Yeah. Boldness. Peter and John in the First Reading today had it in spades, to a point where people did not even know how to handle them. Nowadays we have a word for that: weirdos. People that are on fire for Christ, passionate about the good news and jump up excited to serve God: I look at them in wonderment. To be bold is to be brave and to be brave is to let your vanity go to the wayside. That is hard. Super hard. My heart longs to serve, longs for Him and is in the right place, so God meets me where I am at and still uses me. I would say my boldness comes in spurts. God calls me to action; my heart is stirred; my mind is full of resolve; and I can hardly control the words that come out of my mouth. Sometimes it's a small interaction with a stranger and sometimes it's a greater call to serve over months of time. I think I can only give a handful of examples in my life where I actually felt "bold," but it's not about adding tally marks to how many times you have been bold for Christ. No. That number will fluctuate, because everyone is different and frankly that number doesn't even matter. The importance isn't about trying to be bold, in fact that's beside the point. It's about saying yes to whatever it is in that moment God is calling you to . . . boldness is a reaction to that action. All we have to do is say 'yes,' be available, and He will take that and use it. What is our biggest obstacle in being bold for Christ? Trust. My grandma describes a pivotal point in her conversion of faith as this . . . God wanted to use her. She needed to trust and let go, so she signed a blank sheet of paper and in doing so, signed her life over to God to use however He saw fit. He will fill in the blank space, but it is just that, a blank, white, open, endless space . . . we need only to trust and give our life to Him. Every second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year belongs to Him. He will fill in the space. That's gutsy. That is raw; that is real; that is radical; that is weird; and that is BOLD. Trust is bolder than bold! Here is your blank sheet of paper. Will you sign it? X________________________________________________ Trust Me. -God. Cassie Kent is a wife, mom to two kiddos, loves to get a little crafty and even throws a monthly party celebrating the beauty of creativity. You can find out more about her here.

Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough to be a Christian. There are some amazing men and women out there doing amazing things. Right now, people are on their road to sainthood and right now Saints are praying for petitions that will become miracles. There are people all around me who are doing this Christian thing a lot better than I am; they pray better, fast better, celebrate better. Perhaps they had a better foundation or a life changing experience and then there's me. I have no amazing stories, no inspiring conversion or beautiful, inspiring traditions. I forget to pray and slap together feast days and festivals the night before thanks to the shrine of Pinterest. Some days I wonder if I should give this all up; what kind of church wants to claim a failure like me? And at the same time I don't seem to fit in outside of it. The world at large and I don't see eye-to-eye either. We don't see the same beauty or weep at the same signs of suffering. It wants more from me than is right, and I don't believe its promises. However, the world doesn't really care, and if I cast it off, it shrugs its proverbial shoulder and moves right along. But if rejected, my faith it cries out for me. In fact it seeks out those that have been cast off from the world at larger, the stone over-looked and cast off by others. God sees what the world cannot. He sees what I cannot see in myself. He sees the beauty and strength in the weakest and most misshapen among us. He would choose each of us who don't feel like they're good enough and will build a great work of art from them. You may be chipped and cracked and flawed, but God sees the beauty and strength in you. He's waiting for the world to be done with you so that He can build something glorious with the exact thing the world will never appreciate. Get past the world and get back to God. Molly Walter is a wife, mother and homemaker (with a pesky job outside the home). She shares about making the life she wants with the life she's been given over here.

But you denied the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you . . . How many times have I denied what Christ has laid before me? How many times has God presented me with His plans for my life yet has allowed me to choose another path? I feel as if God is so clearly present before us. He has shown us the way, yet we continue to miss His cues. He gave us His only Son, yet we chose Barabas . . . a murderer. Sometimes what is laid before us is not what we want. It might not even be what we believe we need. The path chosen for us might come as a slammed door in the face of what we always imagined our life to be. Maybe God wants to show us something through a struggle with infertility. Perhaps He knows that if we suffer through the loss of a dear friend, we will draw closer to Him. The lost job, the wayward child, the debilitating disease . . . pains through which only He can bring about something better. Yet, too often I am not willing to see it. I want what I want, when I want it, and then I pray for His blessing. What if, instead, I embrace the image of Christ and a life lived with Him that He sets right before me, even if it comes in the form of a seemingly unbearable cross? What if, with each struggle, I choose to see Christ? What if I look more for growth rather than ease? If I do, I might feel more pain. I more than likely will ask why. But, I do know that I will be forced to rely more on Him, clinging to the promise that He will never leave me. He will present Himself to us today. We will be given the opportunity to choose Him and the joys and pains that come with that choosing. We will also be given the chance to deny Him once again. Today, just in this moment, I will choose Him. And next time, it will be easier. Where is God asking you to choose Him today? Britt Fisk is the wife of Jeremy and mother of four young kids. She spends her days living simply in the-middle-of-nowhere-New Mexico helping with the family beef cattle operation. You can find out more about her here.

Do you ever find yourself settling into spiritual complacency? Mass on Sunday. The occasional daily mass. Confession once a month. Ok, more like once every few months. It’s not great, but I’m doing alright. Things are fine, I guess. So why change? The reality is, however, that we should never just settle with where we are at. We should always be longing for more of what Our Lord has to offer and making whatever radical changes He requires of us. In today’s readings I see two situations where people were ready to settle, when Jesus broke in and rocked their worlds. From the First Reading is the man born crippled. He takes his place by the city gate like he does everyday, he settles in for the long hours of begging for money. I picture him, tired and frustrated, holding out his hand without even looking to see who may be passing by. Then he is startled by someone shouting at him, “Look at us!” Wake up! Pay attention! Something is about to happen! What he expected was some loose change. What he received was life changing. Total healing. Then in the Gospel we see the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. They were discouraged, apprehensive, maybe even scared. They had probably spent the last several months of their lives following Jesus and placing their hope in Him. Now, for all they knew, He was gone and life was going to go back to the way it was before. Then after Jesus comes to them, explains the scriptures to them, and eventually reveals Himself to them in the breaking of bread, they exclaim, “Did not our hearts burn within us when he talked to us on the road?” My dear sisters, have your hearts ever burned from an encounter with The Lord? Have your eyes been opened to His real presence in the Eucharist? Have your been made new in the confessional? Have you been healed? Has your life been changed? Remember what that feels like, and don’t go back! I’m not saying that everyday will be a mountain top experience, or that life will always feel like a week at Bible camp. But don’t settle for “ok” or “just fine” in your spiritual life. Ask for more, and expect it, everyday. “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” (Matthew 7:7) Anna Coyne is a wife, mother, knitter, gardener, and convert to the Catholic faith. Read more about her here. photo credit

What on earth? Why can't Mary Magdalene hug Jesus? She has undergone such tremendous suffering in the last few days. She, along with the beloved apostle John, and the Blessed Virgin Mary were there and witnessed the unthinkable raw horror of the Passion. Why could she not hold Him? There is no answer, other than because He hadn't ascended yet. The inability to touch Christ isn't the only noteworthy part of the Gospel for me, but perhaps the one that first leaps from my heart to hers. Another moment of surprise for me is how she recognizes Him, or rather, how she does not recognize Him. She does not know Jesus by sight. She supposed Him for the gardener. She knows Him after He says her name. That very visceral connection of calling someone by their name is enough for her to suddenly know Him. How powerful a name is, especially His name. My last wowzer moment of this reading is that it is Mary who brings the news to the disciples. She was chosen to be the messenger of the biggest shock or perhaps relief of their lives. Why her? We see time and again in the Bible that God works through intermediaries such as angels, prophets, and messengers. But we don't always know why He chose whom He chooses. Perhaps her fierce loyalty was a factor. Perhaps she needed that special connection above others. These three little sprigs of reflection in this unfolding Spring (slow to unfold here in Minnesota) echo in my heart as I struggle to know why God has seemingly also disappeared from my life, times when I bitterly cried alone in the car. Feeling far away from God, unable to touch Him emotionally, not knowing Him when He is present, and then realizing He has chosen me for certain crosses brings a measure of comfort to the hard times. Perhaps it did for Mary, too, after it all blew over and Jesus went up to Heaven, and she was left with the rest of her life to meditate on what happened that day. Where has God gone in your life? Will you recognize Him when He comes back? Have you invited Him back? Nell O'Leary is an attorney turned stay-at-home mom to three lovelies. She and her husband live in the great city of Saint Paul. You can find out more about her here.