And you, Child, will be called the prophet of the most high . . . . These words sound unremarkable, even normal to many of us from our vantage here in the year 2014. But when Zechariah spoke them so long ago, they were so bizarre and countercultural, we can't even begin to understand the absurdity. The Jewish people had been waiting on a Savior for eons. They hung on the promise of a mighty King, a Savior, who the Scriptures promised would lift them from their lowliness into everlasting glory. It's beaten into history now. But the concept of the God child who would open up the gates of some place called Heaven was almost unheard of then. A total doozy. Yes, it was hidden in or alluded to in the Scriptures of that time, yet the prophets didn't understand enough to recognize or reveal this God child as a reality, let alone an expectation. Imagine being one of them: waiting all your life for the emergence, the grand entrance, the mighty Lord who would save the world from its every woe . . . and all of a sudden catching wind that a child—a meagre, dependent child, akin to the little whimpering rascals you see running around in need of a good nose wiping and a diaper change—would be the one to save you instead. Absurd doesn't even begin to cover it. A weak human baby wasn't what they wanted or expected. It was the furthest thing from it. As such, many ultimately rejected the gift of the Savior they'd waited generations for—and as such, rejected the greatest gift of all, which was their Salvation—simply because the method God chose to give the gift didn't seem plausible. It didn't line up with their expectations. We're not much different when it comes to certain gifts or answers to prayer. We often place so many expectations on what God should give us or how He should answer us that we inadvertently reject the actual gift He's offering. We may not think He's listening, or that He's ignoring us or deliberately not answering. But the thing about God is that He always answers. It's just that it usually isn't an answer we would expect or drudge up with our feeble human minds. But because God knows our innermost being and what we need far better than we do, the gift or answer to prayer He has waiting for us also comes with the exact graces our soul needs to grow closer to Him. It may not be what we've been expecting, but He's offering us a gift with outstretched hands. Let's choose to accept it, sisters. The busyness of this season is often overwhelming, with little time to consider the unfathomable gift God is waiting to give us tomorrow on Christmas. How can we open our hearts today to accept the gift of the Holy Child who is so often rejected? What expectations can we let go of in order to accept the gifts and graces that our Father is hoping to give us this Christmas? Megan Hjelmstad is a wife, mom, writer, and former soldier whose real passion is equal parts faith and chocolate. You can find out more about her here.

  In a few short days, Christmas will be here. Every year I resolve to make this a holy Advent and not to get wrapped up in the commercialism or the busyness of the season and really prepare my heart to receive the Christ Child. Inevitably, I reach a point where I am stressing out over everything that I have to finish. My tendency, besides skipping prayer all together, is to rush through my daily devotional so I can check “prayer” off the To Do list and get back to my stressful day. Today’s Gospel is challenging me to look at this day in a different way by focusing on Mary’s attitude. Here she was newly pregnant and in a situation that was less than ideal—how is she going to explain this to Joseph? What will other people think? What will this mean for her future life? However, instead of stressing, she responds with humility and docility to God’s will. Furthermore, when she hears about her cousin Elizabeth she immediately sets out to be with her during her pregnancy. When Mary is greeted by Elizabeth her mind is not consumed with all the how’s and why’s of the situation, rather, it is consumed with gratitude to God and her heart cannot contain it a moment longer. She speaks the beautiful words of the Magnificat and praises God and his goodness. Today is our opportunity to just stop. Turn it all off and quiet ourselves, even for just a few moments, and look beyond the To Do list or the dirty dishes and mess of toys on the floor or the term paper or work deadline looming over our head and just breath in Mary’s words, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.” We, too, are his handmaids and God has done amazing things in our lives. Despite all the difficulties or the crosses we may have at the moment, God never fails to show us His mercy, His love, and His strength when we are weak. So today, when you feel yourself troubled or stressed, stop a moment and think of something you are especially grateful to God for and repeat the words of Mary, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior . . . .” Bobbi Rol is full time mom to a tween daughter, three rambunctious little boys, and two babies in heaven. She lives in California with her husband, Brian. You can find out more about her here.

  Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you! The Lord is with you. How many times have we heard this before? It is said at every Mass, at every Baptism, at every Confirmation, at every marriage, at every funeral, every single day. We say it to our families, we say it to our friends, and we say it to the congregation. For most of my life, we followed this exclamation with, “and also with you!” And now we say, “and with your spirit.” (Frankly, it’s been so automatic for so many years, that I still slip up and say, “and also with you” but that’s another story.) It’s completely automatic. It is a foundation of our church. The Lord is with me. He is by my side through every moment, even when I reject Him, even when I don’t feel like I deserve Him. In only a few short days, we celebrate the day God sent His only Son to earth. He was sent to live out an earthly life and to die an earthly death. He was sent for me. My mind is constantly struck dumb at this notion. I have a hard time accepting the fact that the Lord is with me. But He is always with me. Always. The Lord is with her. Like every other person past, present, and future, the Lord is with Mary. God sent His son to die for her sins, just like everyone else. But unlike everyone else, the Lord is with her . . . literally. Mary has always held a special place in my heart. I often picture the moment the angel Gabriel came to her. If I were in her sandals, I would have scoffed and wondered where the hidden cameras were. But what did she do? She said, “Let it be to me according to your word.” I mean, who is this woman? She accepted the power of the Holy Spirit and became the mother of Our Lord! This gal had serious gumption. What courage, what faith! Whenever I doubt my abilities, I think of Mary and when she said, “Bring it on." Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife, mom, and soon-to-be-dentist currently living in San Francisco, California. You can find out more about her here.

  This is my first time writing for Blessed is She, and I was not at all prepared to reflect on such an intense reading. The Annunciation. It’s one of the Mysteries of the Rosary. Words from this event pepper our prayers. Renditions of the angel appearing to the Virgin inspire our paintings. It is the fulfillment of myriad Old Testament prophesies and one of the most profoundly important moments in our Christian history. I mean, couldn’t I just have one of the dinkier readings? Maybe just an ordinary “. . . and Peter was being kind of stupid as usual and Jesus said unto His apostles . . . .” One of those? I’m pretty sure it was assigned randomly, so I had no one to blame but God. I was like: “God, you’ve read my blog, right? I don’t do gravitas.” But I forged ahead with Mary’s “Yes” resounding in my ears, and as I read, I kept returning to this moment: And he came to her and said, “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you!” But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be. Saint Luke makes sure to communicate what Mary is thinking: Mary “considered in her mind.” I wanted to understand more about our Blessed Mother’s thoughtfulness, so I cracked my ex-Protestant knuckles, and looked up the Greek. The word Luke uses when Mary “considers in her mind,” is a word that implies confusion, reasoning, debate. She is “greatly troubled” and asks the angel: “How can this be?” But after the angel’s explanation, there’s no indication that Mary understands, she simply accepts. There is no: “And, behold, it finally made sense to her.” This is her faith. She seeks to understand, and she accepts despite her confusion. Her canticle comes, but it comes later. It’s nine verses before she’s rejoicing about this gig. I don’t know how God is crashing into your life and forcing you out of your comfort zone and asking seemingly (or literally?) impossible things of you. Maybe it’s something huge, or maybe it is in the simple request to read another book to your tireless toddler or listen patiently to that obnoxious coworker or write on a topic that intimidates you, but know that our faith was born out of just such obedience. Kate Rhodes is the wife of a lanky carpenter and mother to two littles. She used to teach English, but then she joined the ranks of SAHMs. You can find out more about her here.

Infertility during Advent? The worst. Take a whole season about waiting for a baby to arrive, and then plop a desperate, hormonal, weepy not-yet-mother-to-be right in the middle. Ugly. I spent two Advents praying for a baby. Trying not to cry in the pew at church. Trying not to envy friends' Christmas cards. Trying not to wonder if next year we’d finally hold our own baby under the twinkling tree. So I still ache every Advent with these readings, the ones about barren couples hoping for children. Even though Scripture’s infertility stories resonate differently now that I have babies of my own, I still understand their longing, how they pave the way for the Child who will change everything. But these aren’t simply stories to support our hope when babies are beyond our reach. If this truth is God’s Word, it is a story for all of us. It is our story. We all bring some longing to Advent every year. Please, God, I want. I want my grandma to get better. I want my friend to be healed. I want my husband to find a job. I want peace of mind in this troubling decision. I want to find You in my life. I want, I want, I want. Today’s twinned stories of angelic announcements are stories of shared longing. Two couples waiting for children. Two husbands hoping. Two wives dreaming. You can almost hear the ache behind their words, the long nights they must have spent wrestling with infertility in a culture that prized progeny above all else. But even in their pain, they were not alone. They were longing together. In Advent we long together. As a family, gathered round our calendars at home. As a community, gathered round our wreaths at church. We mark the weeks. We wait and pray. Even when our aching feels alone, even when our longing feels desperate, even when we fool ourselves into thinking that everyone else must be full of light and love while our corner of the world feels dark and cold—we are still longing as Christians within community. This is the gift and promise of what it means to be church: that we are always part of the Body of Christ. We think we know what we are longing for this Advent. But the One who was God-Among-Us, didn't He change all our expectations with Incarnation? He will do so again this year. Do not be afraid. Laura Kelly Fanucci is a mother, writer, and theological researcher. She and her husband are raising three little boys in the suburban wilds of Minnesota. You can find out more about her here.

  As someone who walks with women along the journey of pregnancy and childbirth, it is particularly meaningful for me to think about the things that Mary must have experienced with her unborn Christ Child. There would have been the first beats of His most precious heart and the first movements of His most Sacred blood. And in just a few months Mary must have felt His first quiet stirrings that would eventually morph into vigorous wiggles and kicks and even hiccups! Even His holy fingerprints were shaped in utero, just like ours were. It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that this cradle Catholic started to really ponder the beauty of the Incarnation. I had often thought of His ministry, teachings, and of course His eventual Passion and death, but rarely had I reflected on Jesus as a baby—much less a vulnerable little one in the womb! Maybe that is reflective of our culture, for after all, what significance is there in Someone who hasn't done anything yet? Perhaps that is why I love Advent so much. It is my reminder to return to the mystery of the Incarnation: My God actually did something most incredible. He became like me in the humble beginnings of a baby in the womb. His heart first beat—just like mine. His blood first flowed—just like mine. His fingerprints were first etched in place—just like mine. Except that one day His fingerprints would also be seen on the hands that blessed, broke, and multiplied loaves for the people. These are the hands that would heal the sick and wash the feet of his disciples. And these are the hands that would one day open on a Cross and bleed for us. When we play with the little ones in our lives, let us think of the Christ Child, who came in human meekness to know intimately each of our joys and sufferings. May we also, during this precious time of Advent, look to the manger in anticipation of the little One who grew under the heart of Mary and seeks to grow in our hearts as well. Karen Schultz is a Birth Doula hailing 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.

First Reading:Genesis 49:2, 8-10 Assemble and hear, O sons of Jacob, and hearken to Israel your father. Judah, your brothers shall praise you; your hand shall be on the neck of your enemies; your father's sons shall bow down before you. Judah is a lion's whelp; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He stooped down, he couched as a lion, and as a lioness; who dares rouse him up? The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet, until he comes to whom it belongs; and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples. Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 72:1-4, 7-8, 17 Give the king thy justice, O God, and thy righteousness to the royal son!May he judge thy people with righteousness, and thy poor with justice! Let the mountains bear prosperity for the people, and the hills, in righteousness! May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth! In his days may righteousness flourish, and peace abound, till the moon be no more! May there be abundance of grain in the land; on the tops of the mountains may it wave; may its fruit be like Lebanon; and may men blossom forth from the cities like the grass of the field! Gospel: Matthew 1:1-17 The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram, and Ram the father of Ammin'adab, and Ammin'adab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, and Salmon the father of Bo'az by Rahab, and Bo'az the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of David the king. And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uri'ah, and Solomon the father of Rehobo'am, and Rehobo'am the father of Abi'jah, and Abi'jah the father of Asa, and Asa the father of Jehosh'aphat, and Jehosh'aphat the father of Joram, and Joram the father of Uzzi'ah, and Uzzi'ah the father of Jotham, and Jotham the father of Ahaz, and Ahaz the father of Hezeki'ah, and Hezeki'ah the father of Manas'seh, and Manas'seh the father of Amos, and Amos the father of Josi'ah, and Josi'ah the father of Jechoniah and his brothers, at the time of the deportation to Babylon. And after the deportation to Babylon: Jechoni'ah was the father of She-al'ti-el, and She-al'ti-el the father of Zerub'babel, and Zerub'babel the father of Abi'ud, and Abi'ud the father of Eli'akim, and Eli'akim the father of Azor, and Azor the father of Zadok, and Zadok the father of Achim, and Achim the father of Eli'ud, and Eli'ud the father of Elea'zar, and Elea'zar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ. So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations. ESV I deeply love the study of history. I like to know the intricate details and the broad movements of peoples, ideas, and values. Both my husband and I studied history and it’s one of the great things that we have in common. I’ll confess that I have always been a terrible student, easily distracted, and negligent when it came to my work. As soon as a professor or a text went over a litany of names and dates, my eyes would glaze over and my thoughts would turn elsewhere. So it’s no surprise that when I’ve come across any of the genealogies in scripture my tendency is to do the same. But I’m learning to stop and ask, what is He trying to say to us right now? Right here? What can a long genealogy covering several generations speak to our hearts during this time? I don’t know for certain, but I suspect that it has something to do with a steadfast love and a promise that will not be broken. The historian in me marvels at this God who promises His people that many, many generations from now the fulfilment of His promise will come from their line. And no amount of sinners in the line of sons and daughters will break this promise. He is their God and they are his people. And then, in the most basic and quiet way, God Incarnate steps into history, flesh and blood, and takes on that promise. And that promise is written into His very flesh. And the kicker for me is always, sinner though I am, He includes me in that ancient promise. He is mine and I am His. 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.

  When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears, and delivers them out of all their troubles. (Psalm 34:17) Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness . . . ."(Mt. 5:6) Who are the righteous? What does righteousness look like? The scribes and Pharisees seemed to believe that they were the righteous. They knew the letter of the law, and lived it. They cast judgement upon those they deemed unfit and unworthy: tax collectors, merchants, the women with many husbands. From all outer appearances, their judgments just might stand. What about us? How often do we look at the teen in the pew at Mass and wonder with disdain why they aren't dressed more appropriately? Or the man with funny mannerisms and a mohawk and wonder who catechized him? Speaking of catechizing, how often do we judge our parish programs but refuse to volunteer our time to help the typically over-burdened DRE? How often do we turn our hearts towards God, seeking His power to change our hearts in the confessional and turn us more towards the righteousness of the Psalms and Beatitudes? Are we striving for, yearning for true righteousness and seeking God, so that He may deliver us? Or are we playing games with ourselves and putting on airs, refusing to look in the forgotten and hidden corners of our hearts, to see that we do need deliverance? Oh, yes, I am always at Sunday Mass, sometimes daily Mass, and pray every night with my family. My motions and outward appearance look pretty nice. But my heart, well, I need my God to deliver me from my sin. I yearn for the sort of righteousness the Psalm and the Beatitudes speak of, the sort that compels me to choose the right thing even if I first grumble and whine, "I don't wanna!" True righteousness doesn't attract personal attention. It seeks God, seeks to do the will of God, seeks to spread love to all those around us. Morally right and just actions consider the Greatest Commandment: to love God above all things, and then to love neighbor as you love yourself. True righteousness is seeking to live an upright life, not just the "letter of the law," but the best way to live and love, with the Law of God on our hearts guiding our every thought, word, and deed. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that "the Beatitudes respond to the natural desire for happiness" (CCC 1718). So, the Beatitude to thirst for righteousness is a desire for happiness. To thirst for morally right actions in our life is to thirst to do God's will—to love Him and others. To strive for this is to live as Jesus is calling us to live: hearing the word of God and believing it, so that we can be counted among those who enter the kingdom of God because of the way we lived and loved, not the way we worried about following the precise "letter of the law." I long to be counted among those who believe, those who hear the word of God and keep it, those righteous who cry for help and are delivered by the hand of God. Today, I will quiet my thoughts and let God speak to my heart, showing me how to best follow Him in each moment. I will cry to God for help; help to turn from my own sinfulness and turn my desires towards Him alone. Gina Fensterer is a wife, daughter, mother, friend, homeschooling mama and Colorado native. You can find out more about her here.

With only ten days to go until Christmas, my children are little corked-up vials of excitement, bubbling up, ready to pop at any minute with frantic anticipation. After so many days of waiting, they’re sure they can’t wait even one day more. “Can’t we just open one present? Why do we have to wait? How much longer?” In the span of time as counted by the very young, ten days might as well be an eternity. We adults are not exempt from this restless waiting. Maybe we, also, are counting the days until Christmas or until another anticipated event, leaning toward it with excitement, tearing off the days between now and then like paper chain links in our minds. We all long for something, even if we are not sure exactly what it is. The readings today speak to the anticipation of something on the horizon. We know it is there. We sense it is coming . . . we just can’t see it quite yet. Balaam, the oracle, calls it out: I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not nigh.For now, we have just a glimpse of what is coming. Even the chief priests and the elders, who have Jesus right in front of them, cannot get a full understanding—Jesus answers their questions with another question, and they are left to puzzle it out on their own. With this deep human longing to know comes a degree of frustration. As much as we want to experience God and to know the fullness of what is coming, we have only a small taste of it in this life. As we move through Advent, we anticipate not only the coming of Christ, but the day when we can stand before him face to face and fully know, fully see, fully understand that for which we have been longing our whole lives. Abbey Dupuy is a freelance writer and homeschooling mama to two-year-old twins, a first grader and a new baby. You can find out more about her here.

Today, the Third Sunday of Advent, often referred to as Gaudete Sunday because of the Introit said at the beginning of Mass today, is one of my favorite days of the liturgical year. Today's liturgy gives us a peak into the joy and gladness of Christmas and the second coming of Christ, a taste of heavenly joy. Here we have been journeying through Advent; a time of preparation, waiting, and a somewhat dark time in which we wait for our light. Today's readings announce that light in a dramatic way: setting prisoners free, anointing the afflicted, binding up the brokenhearted, comforting those who mourn—what true joy those words bring to our hearts! The dramatic prophesy is even more beautiful when seen in the light of Mary's humble obedience. She knew of the prophesies of the coming Messiah, but could she as a young girl ever imagined she would be part of it by bearing a child? Did she know the ramifications of her "Yes"? What she did know is that the Lord regarded her in her humility, He would do many great things through her, her entire soul magnified God. Mary rejoiced at this marvel, this miracle. And in her rejoicing I want to rejoice with her! I rejoice in her yes over two thousand years ago. I rejoice in the fact that God's saving work went through the life of a woman who humbly, actively participated with the Lord God to bring the world its Messiah. I want to rejoice in the smallness of one person changing human history with one yes. I want to rejoice in the miracle of the Annunciation and in Mary's Magnificat. The Church wants to point us towards this same joy that will happen at Christ's second coming. I find carrying this joy towards that important time a lot more difficult. I carry fear and trembling for Christ's second coming, our complete unknowing of the time when He will come. Will we meet him with rejoicing and gladness like Mary's? It's easy to get overwhelmed at the thought of the second coming of Christ, at our unpreparedness even as we prepare for this Christmas, but Mary's joy and focus on what God was doing in the present in something I want to keep in mind. I want to remember that God is at work right now, His plan is present in our lives at this very moment, our "yes" to him everyday is happening now. We may not see even a glimmer of what God is doing with our lives, but like Mary we can rejoice in being part of His plan, we can carry the joy in that knowledge and bear witness to the light that will come again. Christy Isinger is the mom to five lovely, loud children living in the Canadian wilds. You can find out more about her here.

"Tell no one the vision . . ." Tell no one. Has anyone ever shared some truly amazing news with you, only to ask that you keep it to yourself until further notice? I will never forget when a dear friend confided that she was pregnant after many years of trying to conceive. I was overjoyed for her, and couldn't wait to celebrate with our greater community about her long hoped-for child. My baby bonanza bubble was burst pretty quickly, however, as I heard her fervent request: "Please don't tell anyone yet." There were a few things she and her husband were waiting on before making a public announcement. I smiled knowingly and wholeheartedly agreed to keep her confidence. "Of course," I assured her. "No problem!" It was quite easy to keep The Secret at first, but as the days and weeks rolled by, it became excruciating: I. must. tell. someone. the. good. news. NOW!!! Ultimately I kept my lip zipped out of love for my friend and her wishes. Simply put, it wasn't my news to share. In today's Gospel, Saints Peter, James, and John are undoubtedly still flying high from experiencing the single most amazing event of their lives—they saw Jesus transfigured in front of their very eyes and revealed as The Son of God. And not only that, they saw Him conversing with Moses and Elijah, two giants of the faith. No big deal, right?? And yet . . . they were directly instructed (by Almighty God Himself, mind you) to tell no one—not even their brother Apostles about what they had seen! Can you imagine? Matthew: "Hey, James! How was it up on the mountain with Jesus? Anything cool happen?" James (uncomfortably): "Uh, hey, Matthew. Uh. Yeah—it was great. Nothing much happened, really . . . Uh . . . Except . . . (excitedly) Jesus's whole body started glowing with the intensity of a thousand suns and He was just hanging out with Moses and Elijah!! (GASP!) Augh! I wasn't supposed to tell! Please don't tell anyone I said anything!" Matthew (nods, turns sheepishly): "Oh, h-hey there, J-Jesus! We didn't see You standing there!" Truly, this time of year is not unlike what the Apostles experienced in today's Gospel. Advent is a time of great waiting, wonder and heightened expectation. But, unlike Peter, James, and John, who truly had no idea exactly what they were waiting for or precisely how long it would take, we have the tremendous gift of knowing not just what but for Whom we are waiting. It's no secret—JESUS in coming, our long-awaited Messiah, and He will be here sooner than we know it! What are you doing to prepare your heart to welcome this long-expected baby, this Messiah, this Savior, Christ the Lord? Does everyone know you are waiting for Him this Advent, or is it a very well-kept secret, tucked between the holiday party invites and the half-baked crafting ideas? Don't be afraid to spill the beans, sweet sister! Tell a friend, post it, pin it, tweet it—Maranatha—Come, Lord Jesus! This Good News belongs to all people, and is definitely yours to share. photo credit // source Heather Anderson Renshaw is currently not drinking enough [coffee] to keep up with her five young kiddos in the wilds of the Pacific NW. You can find out more about her here.

  Yes. I Do. Today's Gospel, wow, Mary's Fiat. It's beautiful. There is so much here. So much is waging on this moment. What would the world be like if Mary said, "thanks, but no thanks"? . . . I would really not have held it against her; I mean her circumstances were far from ideal. The angel was not just asking Mary to do God a favor, he was asking Mary for her life. All of it. Complete trust. In this moment God proposing. He is asking Mary to marry Him, to give her whole complete self to Him. A donation of self. A gift. Sacrifice. What does Mary do? SHE SAID YES! This was not only a proposal, but Mary's wedding day, where vows are exchanged, promises for eternity are given. What did Mary do? SHE SAID I DO! She is giving her consent to God with her "let it be done." I do want to be wholly yours. I do want to bring Your Son, Jesus, into the world. I do agree to live a life of joy and suffering for the betterment of God's kingdom. Mary gives her consent to being a part of the God's mission here on earth, but knows it cannot be done through her own power, but rather it is all about being drawn into the call God had for her life, so her response was "Let is be." Let me be drawn in. Let me be used as You see fit. Let Your work be done in me. The power of this, "Yes, I do, let it be" has echoed through the centuries of human history. This one accepting action was the cause of our salvation. So much was at stake. She brought Jesus into this world by her "yes" to God. God poses the same question to us, " ____ will you bring my Son, Jesus into the world?" We have the same opportunity to bring Christ into our world, our town, our home, our lives. He can be brought into any situation if your answer is "yes." What is at stake if you do give your "let it be"? What is at stake if you do not? What lives will be impacted by Jesus through you or which ones will miss that opportunity? God will use us to fulfill His mission, just as He used Mary, but we first need to give our "yes." We need to give our consent. We need to let God work in us. Mary first had a transformation inside her body before she was fully able to bring Jesus out to the world. We too need to let ourselves be transformed by Christ on the inside—in our heart and mind, so we can bring Him out into the world we encounter everyday, with conviction, courage, and strength. Mother Mary, "Accept us! Look into our hearts! Accept our concerns and our hopes! Help us, you who are full of grace, to live in grace, to persevere in grace, and, if necessary, to return to the grace of the living God, which is man’s greatest and supernatural good. Prepare us for your Son’s coming! Accept us! With our everyday problems, our weaknesses and deficiencies, our crises, and personal, family and social shortcomings. Do not let us lose goodwill! Do not let us lose sincerity of conscience and uprightness of behavior! With your prayer, obtain justice for us. Safeguard peace in the whole world! In a short time we shall all leave this place. We wish, however, to return to our homes with this joyful certainty that you are with us, you, Mary Immaculate, you, chosen for centuries to be Mother of the Redeemer. Be with us. Be with Rome. Be with the Church and with the world. Amen." (Prayer by St. Pope John Paul II) Cassie Kent is a wifey, mommy, likes to get a little crafty and writes in her spare time on her blog-y. You can find out more about her here.

  Fear not, I will help you. It seem so easy. We know we were created by an all-loving God who is ours twenty-four hours a day. We must only ask for His help. However, how often do we forget that it is just that simple? The to-do list lengthens as the laundry piles up. There are noses to wipe and meals to prepare. On top of it all, there are so often tiny voices crying for our help. Trusting us completely to fill their needs a midst the hundreds of other things that fill our days, our children don't question that they will indeed get the help they need. They simply ask. As we should of Him. When it is so easy to worry, to get caught up in the busyness of this season, let us pause for a moment and ask Him for help. Help to peacefully go about our days preparing for the celebration of His birth. Help to remember that even when it feels like we cannot take another step or say "yes" to one more thing asked of us, He is there to carry us forward. Help to know that our trials, however burdensome, are not meant to be carried alone. Help to know that just as our children come to us with complete trust, we, as His children, can go to Him. Help to know that we are never alone and truly have nothing to fear. Let's be a little more like those children crying for help, putting aside our desire to do it all and humbly bowing before Him in his glory. He tells us He will never forsake us. He only asks that we "fear not." Let us put all our trust in that. 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.

I am like a hamster in the wheel, heart always racing, always moving, always going. I have to do this and I have to do that. There is a constant uphill battle that I have forged for myself, and it is unrelenting. My daily obligations, my work at the hospital, my work at my home, my constant pressure on myself, all of that is endless. It is exhausting. But you know what extinguishes that? You know what takes that all away? You know who is even more relentless than the wheel that I continue to turn? You know. And I know. And she knows, and he knows. We all know. We all know. We all know about our God who does not grow faint or grow weary, about our God who increases strength in him who has none, about our God who allows us to run and not be weary. That God. We all know. But it is such a different matter to take your head knowledge and put it in your heart. It is a completely different idea to take that truth and turn it into action. But we have an example of a man who did it (Jesus). We have examples of plenty of people who have done it (saints). We have people in our own lives who show us what it is to get off the hamster wheel and live life. You, who are labored and heavy burden, you will find rest for your soul in Him. We will find rest once we get off of that wheel and live for Him. Every day, every moment, every piece of our lives is strung together by the Almighty. And He will do great things through us. Great things. What you think is insignificant or weak or unimportant? That's where He will give you strength. That's where He deepens every part of your being. What you think is an obligation that you must fulfill? Get off the wheel and ask Him. What you do to keep yourself busy instead of in prayer with Him? That's where you will be renewed, convicted, sought out. What you cry out for in your suffering? He understands. He is our Great Comforter. What you don't think you can do, because of fear or doubt? He will mount up with wings like eagles, you will run and not grow weary, you will walk and not faint. We just need to get off of the wheel, and live. photo credit // source Jenna Guizar is the wife to an amazing man and mother to three beautiful little girls. You can find out more about her here. sharing with Holley // Jennifer

  It’s easy to get lost. I don’t mean lost in a physical sense (though I admit I sometimes do that, too), but lost spiritually—and especially at this time of year. With sixteen days to Christmas, there is so much to be done. There are parties to attend, cookies to bake, trees to decorate, lights to hang, presents to buy and then wrap . . . the list can seem endless. Many of these things bring us joy—and that joy is a gift—yet deep in our hearts we know these material things will come and go. They will fade away. Take a few minutes to reflect on if or how you might be lost right now (in a big or small way). Ask the Holy Spirit to show you. At some point or another we all get lost on our spiritual journey. “Fear not,” Isaiah says in the First Reading. Do not be discouraged, but instead praise God for today’s Gospel Reading. We read of the shepherd who, when he realizes one of his sheep is missing, goes in search of it. Did you catch that detail? It really struck me. The sheep did not search for and find the shepherd, but rather the shepherd searched for the sheep. Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is searching for His lost sheep. He is searching for you. Out of God’s great love, Jesus is pursuing you. Let us not be lost sheep this Advent, dear sisters. Let us set aside time each day to quiet our hearts and prepare them for Christ. “Comfort, comfort my people,” God says. May we allow ourselves the opportunity to be gathered into our Lord’s loving arms and carried towards His Son, born to us on Christmas Day. Praying this Advent season will be a time for each and every one of us to be found. Can you imagine how great our Lord's joy would be at that? Elise Howe is a devoted wife and musician currently living in NYC, though she will always be a midwestern gal at heart. You can find out more about her here.

  Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Today, we celebrate the fact that a tiny red newborn—delivered in less than desirable circumstances to a young peasant girl from the backwoods town of Nazareth—was no ordinary baby. And as such, his mom was no ordinary mom. Jesus: a tiny, squishy, mewing baby—yet also God. Divinity was intimately stamped into every last cell of His being. His very DNA was part human and part God. One half Mary's. The other half? Inexplicably that of God Himself. To be God is to be the polar opposite, the very foil, the immovable counteraction of sin. And to be the human form of God means that all the human elements must also be sinless. It means that everything Jesus inherited from his human mother had to be perfect enough to create the human side of God. And so, sweet Mary had to be as special as she was humble; the human half—the "Mary" half—of the DNA imprinted on every cell in Jesus's body could not for one nanosecond of earthly time be tainted by the stain of sin, original or otherwise. Picture it with me . . . Her human body—intertwined with her Son's body within her own at the moment God willed the Christ into existence . . . Her body—that lent the God-son half her DNA, her cells which mixed with His in the intricate and delicate process of building His human body around His divine soul, her womb that formed the most basic of human elements like placenta and amniotic fluid to sustain God Himself, as their own cells intermingled, as nutrients and blood cells coursed back and forth from mother to God-son and God-son to mother . . . Her body—that birthed Him to the world, that nursed and nourished and loved Him as he grew into God-toddler and God-teen . . . And 33 years later, her body—that held the lifeless, empty shell of His body which she had so selflessly, lovingly, created within her own, her tears mingling with his blood as she cradled the divine body that had sprung from her own . . . This is the humble, womanly body God chose to co-create the Divine Son. This extraordinary purpose is why humble Mary's body would not, could not be tainted by sin for even one moment of her existence. And so, it means that Mary, sweet Mary from backwoods Nazareth, had to be sinless from the very moment her soul came into being. When God fused the first of Mary's physical elements with her spiritual elements, when God at the moment of her conception connected her soul with her body, she had to be immaculate. Yes, God pre-redeemed Mary, the humblest of all the unknown maidens, so she could serve as the instrument fit enough, sinless eough, to bring us the Gift of our Savior who is above all sin. This is what we celebrate today. That our God who took on the lowliness of skin for our sake was still so special, so perfect, that God the Father, through His singular grace, made the one human closest to His son almost as special and perfect. This is why we elevate Mary to the highest place of all the Saints: not because of anything she did on her own, but because the relationship she had with our God was so intimate that it, by default, made her so selfless and special. And if that's what our God can do for Mary—lowly, unknown Mary from the backwoods of Nazareth—then just imagine, dear sisters, what He will do for us as we draw closer and closer to Him. Mary only wants one thing: for us to know her Son. Today, let us thank God for giving us the perfect example of what a real relationship with God looks like, and let us honor her selflessness by earnestly seeking her Son. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife, mom, writer and former soldier whose real passion is equal parts faith and chocolate. You can find out more about her here.

  Several weeks ago I ate at an Asian buffet with my fiancé and his family. A few minutes into the meal our server dropped a pile of fortune cookies onto the table, and I immediately grabbed the closest one, curious to read the fortune inside. After ripping open the wrapper and snapping the cookie in half, I pulled out the piece of paper and read the words aloud to his family. It was one of those generic fortunes like “You will be happy” which elicited a round of sarcastic “Nice fortune” comments from everyone at the table. Feeling slightly disappointed that it wasn’t overly thought provoking or laugh inducing, I tossed the paper back on the table and kept eating. Now what might have happened if my fortune had contained words like those cried out from the voice in the First Reading: In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken. . . . Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, "Behold your God!" Or words like those spoken by Saint John the Baptist? After me comes he who is mightier than I, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. To be perfectly honest, I would have been excited to find a Scripture passage instead of a generic fortune—“Great idea for evangelization!” I’d think—but I would not have given that piece of paper much thought. I mean, it’s just a piece of paper, right? Thankfully, the Word of God is not just a piece of paper. It’s alive and it communicates infinitely more than even the most cleverly worded fortune. So my challenge for you is this: take the Word of God seriously. Spend time talking and listening to Him in prayer. And do whatever you can to prepare the way of the Lord. Joan Nagel is a Registered Dietitian who recently moved to the Twin Cities, and in her spare time she can be found planning her July 2015 wedding, reading, writing, and drinking coffee. You can find out more about her here.