And day and night they never cease to sing ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.’ (Rev 4:8) When was the last time you were in awe, truly and completely overwhelmed in awe, of our God? For us who have been living the Christian life for all or most of our lives, awe is not something that happens on a daily basis. More often than not our awe turns to complacency. Wonder takes a back seat to daily tasks, and instead of unceasing worship we congratulate ourselves for making it through an hour-long mass each weekend. Why is it so easy to take the Creator of you and me and the whole universe for granted? The vision of God’s throne room revealed in today’s First Reading portrays so much glory and mystery. Sometimes passages of Scripture like this can be hard to read. What does all this symbolism mean? What I am supposed to take literally? Do these creatures really have eyes inside and out? Most of what I’m reading just makes me feel kind of nervous. But there are two things that are clear to me here. Firstly: that the God I have placed my trust is way more glorious than I can even begin to grasp. And secondly, those who see Him are literally brought face down to the ground because of His glory, and they never, NEVER, cease to praise Him. But how can we give unceasing praise to God in the midst the unceasing chaos of our lives? We do this by being good stewards of the things He has given us, like we see in today’s Gospel. Everything we have comes from God. I don’t want to be like the servant who takes his gold coin and hides it away, to afraid to try to grow. I want to take what I’ve been given, health, my family, food on my plate, clothes on my back, and use them to grow God’s kingdom. Each of us have different abilities and talents, and we all have unique ways of growing God’s kingdom. Those of us who are mothers have the great responsibly to raise our children to know and love the Lord. Those of us who are working have daily encounters with people who are starved for the peace and love of Christ. We all enjoy freedom and wealth that most of the world could only dream of. Though it’s easy to get preoccupied with how times are tight, we have so many resources to help those in need, in our home cities, and in the farthest corners of the world. When we do these things we are praising God, we are offering our bodies to Him as "living sacrifices." (Romans 12:1) And so, dear sisters, let us stand in awe of our God, and offer Him the unceasing praise He deserves. Let’s make our vocations a living sacrifice, and love in action our spiritual act of worship. Ask the Lord to show you how He would like you to use your time, talents, and treasure. photo by Taylor McCutchan Anna Coyne is a wife, mother, knitter, gardener, and convert to the Catholic faith. Read more about her here.

I don't know about you, but I'm rather short. I'm no stranger to standing on my tip-toes, and having to watch entire movies leaning to the side to see around someone in front of me at the movie theatre. The top shelves of anything in my house is considered long-term storage. I've always sympathized with Zacchaeus. The thought of a short, older man jumping up behind lines of people; trying to peer between legs and eventually climbing a tree always makes me snicker. I don't know about you, but it's been years since I've climbed a tree; only in my 30's it's still quite an amusing site to see. I can only imagine how ridiculous Zacchaeus looked and I can only imagine how happy it made Jesus to him; that old man wanting so badly to see him that he was willing to look so so silly. Zacchaeus wasn't just trying to get the Lord's attention either. This was not some empty attempt to increase his street cred with the other tax collectors in Jericho or to get an autograph. Zacchaeus was on a mission. Somehow and somewhere this man's heart had be changed; an earth shattering change. There, after being plucked from the crowd doing whatever he could just to get a glimpse at Jesus, he laid out all his shortcomings and all his wrongs literally at the feet of his salvation. He knew that he had hoarded too much and taken unjustly and he was prepared to do anything to make it right. To Zacchaeus, that little, despised tax collector Jesus promised him a spot among the elite; claiming him as a descendant of Abraham all the promises God himself guaranteed. I think sometimes we get worried about making a scene. Do you stop yourself from including mention of God or the Bible in conversation because you don't want to be "that religious person"? Do you overlook praying before a meal in restaurant so as not to draw attention or relegate your religious art or books to a backroom? Do you justify another week without confession because you don't want to draw attention to your faith and your faults, even when you're already in a church? I know I've been guilty of this so many times and I'm still trying. God wants us to be ridiculous for our faith. He wants us, as He says so many time, to have the faith of children—that joyous, raucous joy with no limits. He wants us to scale trees just to glimpse at Him and yet we're still afraid to sit in the front row of church! Today, be ridiculous for God. Read your religious books on the bus and in the lunch room. Wear your cross and medals. Dig out your veils, your rosaries, and your icons. Say grace in the restaurant. Find the tree that gives you a better glimpse at God and climb it with abandon. . . . and for goodness' sake will someone sit in the front pew this week? Molly Walter is a wife, mother and homemaker (with a pesky job outside the home). She writes at Molly Makes Do about making the life she wants with the life she's been given. You can find out more about her here.

  The other week I took my son for a checkup at our faith-based family practice, where we are very (very) lucky to see wonderful doctors who share our values. Our family deals with a number of different issues (rare anxiety disorders, autism spectrum disorder, and chronic pain to name a few) but this was a routine appointment, and the checkup portion was over and done with in a matter of minutes. As we prepared to pack up and leave, though, the doctor paused thoughtfully and asked gently, ". . . So how are you doing with everything else?" Now, from the outside, our family appears normal on many levels, and even from my perspective, I don't think we deal with much more than the average family—and we certainly face much much less than others out there. I've always approached our issues as conditions that need treatment, but not "bad" enough or "worthy" enough to merit outright healing, if that makes sense. So when our doctor asked how we were holding up, I hesitated. But something about his tone drew out the truth: yes, we were hopeful for new treatment options or specialized therapists . . . but things had become pretty overwhelming lately. What happened next, I can only describe as an awakening. My doctor began to share his own experience with the power of prayer and healing. He—a physician who I would expect to limit himself to the same clinical approach that I'd been taking for my treatment and my kids’ treatment—he personally sat down and began to write a prayer for us. As he wrote, he reminded me that because Scripture is the inspired word of God, it has both power and authority over things not of God. He told me that praying simple verses to invoke the healing power of God could have profound effects, because God is all about banishing those things that separate us from Him. Of course, my doctor wasn't talking about some Hocus Pocus that will forever free us from any and all suffering. Because that's not how it works—by its very nature, being a human in this broken world entails that we must (and will) suffer. But he opened my eyes to the reality that because I am both body and soul, I must approach the healing and treatment process in light of both. And if, like the blind man in today's readings, I am willing to cry out to Jesus with persistence (instead of just giving up after a paltry request or two like I have in the past)—if I use the words inspired by God himself to place authority over the anxiety or fear or diseases that pull me away from Him—then, as my doctor put it, "anything plaguing us that is not 'of God' will have no choice but to bow to the authority of God." Because our God wants nothing more than to help loosen the grip of those infirmities that hold our souls back from the closeness of His loving embrace. Because when we pray persistently for healing, it is impossible for us to remain unchanged in the hands of our God. I sat almost dumbfounded as the doctor told me all of this. He quietly listed a few other resources, said he would be praying for us, and blessed my children. And then he prayed with us. Besides being a beautiful experience, what happened that day—at a supposedly ordinary checkup—brought me to the reality that healing is real. It isn't just some remote Bible story, or reserved for those like the blind man who I think "deserve" it. God wants to heal me, too. He wants to heal you, sister. Whether or not we think we're in need of (or deserving of) such healing, the fact remains that in this broken world, through no fault of our own, some of our infirmities have muddied our souls. Be it physical, mental, spiritual—the Divine Physician is just waiting for us to cry out. And so, I invite you to pray with me (and with persistence!) this prayer that my kind doctor wrote for us that day in the clinic: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. For By your stripes we are healed. And In the name of Jesus every knee shall bend. And the Name of Jesus is above all names. Including [list conditions]. So we now take authority over all of these and command them to leave now to Jesus’s feet and cancel the power and authority they have over my family. I declare now in Jesus’s name a reclaiming of health, healing, complete restoration, and all the fruits and gifts of the spirit. And I declare everyone in my family has the mind of Christ. Amen. photo by Taylor McCutchan 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 August, my husband and I went to a baseball game in the city with a friend of ours. Before the game, we went and grabbed some barbecue food at a local popular restaurant. After dinner we walked to the ballpark. Along the way, we would occasionally pass a homeless person sitting on the side of the street. As we stopped at a corner for a red light, there was an older man sitting in a wheelchair. As we stood waiting for the traffic to clear, I smiled at that gentleman. He looked at me and brightly smiled back. Looking down at our bags of BBQ leftovers, I knew deep down we didn't have a need for them. I walked over to the gentleman and introduced myself, "Hi, my name is Patty, what is your name?" He smiled and responded, "I'm Sam." I handed Sam our two bags of BBQ leftovers and told him I would really like him to have them. Sam looked at me with eyes bright and happily accepted. We smiled at each other again and I walked back over to my group just in time to make the light to cross the street. I couldn't tell you who won the game that night, but I can tell you I was really glad I listened to the gentle prompting of the Spirit to go talk to Sam that night. Sometimes I think we as women struggle comparing ourselves to each other. We create (at times) unrealistic expectations of ourselves and then when we don't meet them we feel like a big, fat failure because we couldn't do it as well or even better than so-and-so. The goal is not to beat ourselves up when the house is a mess, the kids are acting crazy, or your cooking abilities do not match up to Martha Stewart. That's the lesson I take from the woman in Proverbs 31. Yes home management, cooking, cleaning, kid wrangling, your job, etc. are all good things, but ladies, let's be honest, sometimes it can be all-consuming. What I find so striking and beautiful about the Proverbs 31 woman, is amidst all those different things in life she makes it a priority to reach out to the needy and poor. She reaches outside of herself to others amid the busyness of her daily life. I know sometimes I have thought that needy or poor people meant those who are homeless on the streets. But the poor come in all different shapes and sizes: emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Who are the poor people in your own life? How can you be love to them? Look for situations where you can reach out to the poor and needy people you encounter in your own life. May we not miss moments of grace to open our hands and reach out the poor in our everyday lives. But rather, let us "stay awake and be sober" always on the lookout for an opportunity to meet Christ in the faces of all we encounter. 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.

Have you ever given into someone’s request because that person wouldn’t stop asking? Think about it for a few seconds. Maybe your son asked you for an extra piece of Halloween candy—14 times to be exact—before you finally decided to let him have that one last piece before going to bed. Or perhaps someone from your parish office emailed, called, and then waved you down at Sunday morning’s Mass before you reluctantly agreed to volunteer for an upcoming youth retreat. In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus tells the story of the judge who granted the widow’s request simply because of her persistence: “For a while he refused; but afterward he said to himself, 'Though I neither fear God nor regard man, yet because this widow bothers me, I will vindicate her, or she will wear me out by her continual coming.'" God, on the other hand, responds to requests entirely differently than the judge as He does so out of love. He does not choose to answer our prayers with an immediate yes or no because He is annoyed with us but rather because He loves us and desires what's best for us. How do you respond to those who ask you for something? Do you choose to give your son that extra piece of candy because you are annoyed or because you want to fulfill his desire? Do you say yes to the parish office person because you no longer want to be bothered or because you want to serve God? If you feel like you respond to these requests with the "Because I am annoyed" answer, I dare you to pray for the strength and courage to encounter these moments as opportunities to love as God loves. Joan Nagel is a Registered Dietitian, and in her spare time she can be found reading, writing, and drinking coffee. You can find out more about her here.

Today’s Gospel Reading is not the easiest one out there but sometimes a dose of reality is needed to help us keep proper perspective in our lives. It reminds me of when we turn on the news or hear of someone we know that has died at an early age. We are shocked. It forces us to look at our own life and think—what if that were me? Suddenly, the things we were complaining about yesterday now seem insignificant in the face of death. Jesus did not mince words when He warned the apostles, and us, that we need to be prepared for the end. There is a lot of talk these days about the rapture and being “left behind” but concentrating on the exact how’s and why’s of Jesus’ second coming can distract us from reality. Our end can come at any time. We need to be watchful and never neglect the most important thing in life—our eternal salvation. That’s scary stuff! But God in not calling us to live in an attitude of doom and gloom because we may die at any moment. Rather, He wants us to be wise and cautious with our eyes always on Him. In the Gospel, Jesus says the people were eating, drinking, and marrying up to the day that Noah entered the ark. So, too, in the days of Lot. But Noah had to eat and drink to sustain himself. Noah was married and had a family. What is the difference? Noah’s life was centered on God. He was in communion with Him. In prayer, he could hear the voice of God speaking to him and guiding him. He listened to God and followed His commands. His daily life was a means to an end, not the end itself. Are we like Noah? Are we in communion with God, turning our hearts to Him throughout the day and spending some quiet time with Our Lord to hear the words He wishes to speak to our hearts? I believe God is also challenging us to take a deeper look at ourselves. There are things in life that are good, in and of themselves, but they still have the ability to lead us away from God. They take up too much of our time or they make it difficult for us to keep our eyes on God. These can be distractions from staying prepared. Is there something in your life keeping you from being as close to God as you should? I can feel God tugging at my heart. Is He tugging your heart too? How will you answer? Bobbi Rol is full time mom to a teen 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.

I love the fact that God gives us best friends. Who are your best friends? Who do you share your hopes and dreams, fears and worries, funny stories, and failings with? These people have been given to us for particular reasons, and they are no accident. In today's Gospel, Jesus talks about the coming of the kingdom of God, which is awesome. He also relays that before the kingdom comes, He will have to undergo much suffering, which is not so awesome. Even more, we know that our call as Christians is to follow in the steps of Christ. Thus, logic proves that we too, then, must first suffer many things and be rejected by this generation before reaching the glory of eternal happiness. Rejection kind of sucks, doesn't it? Nothing about rejection and suffering feels good. Yet we know that we will experience suffering. We know that we will be presented with various crosses throughout our life in order to be perfected, to be brought closer to the Lord, and to share in His passion for souls. But it still doesn't feel good. We tend to be afraid of suffering and rejection. Our tendency is to try and hide from suffering as if it's lurking around the corner waiting to devour us. So we crouch in the corner hoping to avoid it like we try to avoid eye contact with an ex at a party. But friends, we don't have to fear suffering because we are not expected to go it alone. Let's look at the First Reading. Remember how much Saint Paul suffered in his life? He was thrown into prison all the time and beaten, shunned, cursed, and accused. He was rejected more times than we can imagine. And what does he say to his friend, Philemon? "I have derived much joy and comfort from your love." Saint Paul and Philemon were best friends in the Lord. In the midst of bearing his crosses, Saint Paul declares that his heart is refreshed through the love of his friend. How good is God? How many times are our hearts refreshed because of the people in our lives? How many times is our suffering made easier due to the love and comfort of our friends? Our friends are magnificent blessings from the Lord. So let us go forth today and give thanks for our friends, for those who refresh our weary spirits and encourage us along the way to the resurrection. Photo courtesy of Elizabeth Binette Photography. 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.

Most of us are familiar with the social treatment of lepers in the time of Christ and throughout history. At that time their bacterial infections were incurable, and they were banished society, living together outside of towns. Those with leprosy lived for years with the infection, as social outcasts, and eventually died. Here, in the Gospel of Saint Luke, ten of them encounter Jesus, begging Him for mercy. He simply tells them to show themselves to the priests, who would let those healed of leprosy back into society. They believe Him, go on their way, and notice that on their way they were healed. Only the Samaritan turns back to thank Jesus, and while the others don’t cease to be healed, the Samaritan is the one who has the personal contact with Jesus and thanks Him for the mercy that He has shown. Just as the lepers received physical healing through the Holy Spirit, we have received spiritual healing. Saint Paul tells us of our own sickness, “For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, . . . but when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by us in righteousness, but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit.” We have been cleansed in our Baptism, not through our own merits, but through the mercy of God. And further, we are to go to His priests to receive further healing mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I often find that when I go to Confession, I am confessing many of the same sins over and over again, and in some ways I am still a “slave to my various passions.” But Christ wants to heal me and free me from this slavery, and the way to do so is to continue to confess my sins and express gratitude and praise to God for His mercy. And He does more than just forgive, He renews us in the Holy Spirit so that we no longer desire those things which once enslaved us. So let us be honest with ourselves and look at the leprosy (sins) eating away at our souls, and in faith ask Christ to have mercy on us so that we can be renewed in our souls and freed from our sins. Let us continually be cleansed. 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 top / bottom

Readings like today's—the ones that urge us to go above and beyond—give me a little bit of a guilt complex. Saint Paul, who authored the First Reading, might've had a ton of zeal and passion, but my personality is quite the opposite. I always start out well with really good intentions or commitments, but I usually get overwhelmed or distracted or lose motivation somewhere along the way. And slowly but surely those good intentions trail off into the sunset. As such, all the many standards of goodness and righteousness that Saint Paul sets forth in the First Reading can seem a heck of a lot more daunting than desirable. I'm no certified teacher. Who am I to instruct others? I'm definitely not admirably domestic, or always sensible, or even always kind (or patient). So who am I to be "bidding" others to act perfectly when I myself struggle so much and so often miss the mark? But after reading a little deeper, I think that Saint Paul is entreating us to actually help a sister (or brother) out. To keep each other accountable in a loving "I-want-the-best-for-your-soul and I-need-you-to-help-me-too" way, not a Judgey McJudgerson way. I may not be a teacher, but I can read appropriate articles and encyclicals that establish a coherent understanding of my faith (and spread it to others) instead of just cowering behind another uninformed media headline. When I'm feeling especially domestically challenged, I can set a timer for a 15-minute challenge to get just one thing done (and see if anything else follows!). If I'm feeling more grumpy than kind, I can write down my frustrations and literally place them at the feet of Jesus (under the small statue in our home) to offer my trivialities for the good of others—and hopefully turn my attitude around as well. And in general, when I'm struggling most, I can be honest with those who know me best so I can get both the right kind of accountability and the necessary love and support. When we make even a slight effort to form ourselves in those areas that Saint Paul encourages, we create a small ripple in our little circle of the world, which ultimately elevates all of us closer to the God who made us. And even though Saint Paul's prescription for sainthood may seem like a tall order at first, it's actually a prescription for making this way of life—a way that's so good for our souls—more attainable for ourselves and more accessible to others. God intended for all of us to be saints, and He wants that universal call to be attainable! We just have to want it. I'm going to try to want it more today. Will you commit to wanting it with me? Let's look at Saint Paul's list and ask ourselves which virtuous action stands out the most (or makes us cringe most)? How do you think God is asking you to address or adjust that area of your life? Let's be accountable to each other and resolve together to work on that one thing He's trying to point out! Will you commit to one small change today with me? If so, leave a comment below with what you choose!   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. photo credit top / bottom

Today's Gospel is haunting. It haunts all of us, mothers, sisters, daughters, friends. Forgiveness; sinning; faith. It is Christ, Our Savior, telling us we have to get over ourselves and forgive. We cannot bring children to sin. And even the teeny tiny mustard seed worth of faith would plant a tree in the sea. These are the kind of words and teachings that we'll be liable for on the Last Day. He means it. We need to live it. No matter how many times our neighbor, brother, friend, spouse drives us completely, justifiably, bananas, we still have to forgive them. What, Lord? What about the 70th time they do it? What about then? We still have to forgive them. That means not only saying it aloud, but in that quiet crevice of our hearts where we store justified anger like leftover Halloween candy in the upper shelf of the pantry. That place we go when we want to nurse a wound, where we go when we're lonely and want the company of a hot cup of anger. That place we have to release and those feelings we have to let die out. It's hard stuff to hear. Temptation and sin—two forces we all live with each and every day. I am tempted to be slothful and not really ever get ready for the day (bathrobe living as a SAHM mom, right?). I am tempted to just give in to losing my temper at my small children. I do it. I give them a terrible example and start laying the brickwork for a patio of impatient behavior in their little hearts. When we hear that it's better to have a millstone around your neck and drown than to cause children to sin—a slow and tortuous death of drowning while you flail and kick and beg for life? Something worse than that is our punishment? And when do we cause our children to sin, our friend's children, our neighbor's children? What qualifies as being the cause of children's sinning? Christ isn't specific. We can only mull over the poor examples we give. The impatience, the jealousy, the coveting, the nasty comments. And then there are all the nonverbals we teach: the coldness, the frugality with love that keeps our familial fabric thinner than it could be. Not choosing love, but choosing ourselves, and we need to teach better. And with faith, with a genuine deep faith in God's mercy, love, and care for us, we could work insane miracles in our lives. How can you choose love? How can we all choose to believe in a God of love, a God of forgiveness? Who do we need to forgive and let go of that hot nugget of wound in our heart of hearts? photo by Madeline Hill 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.

Saturday is my chore day. It’s the day I can do all the things I don’t have time to do during the week, like cleaning the bathrooms, vacuuming, and mopping the floors. Saturday is also the day my husband and I can work on big projects together; cleaning out closets, getting the window AC units back into the attic, fixing that drawer in the kitchen that keeps breaking. I don’t really like spending my Saturdays doing chores; I try keep things tidy during the week. But we’re so busy and life is so chaotic that despite my best efforts there always seems to be a layer of baby food caked onto the kitchen floor, toothpaste all over the bathroom sink and mirror, and at least four loads of clean laundry waiting to be folded. I need that day of deep cleaning, or we end up living in squalor! But all the work is worth it because Saturday evenings my house is clean and my soul is at peace. But what about God’s house? “Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? . . . God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.” (1 Co. 3:16-17) Each Sunday we receive the very Body and Blood of our Lord into our bodies. In that moment we each become a tabernacle, a dwelling place for Jesus Christ. This is a serious and amazing thing! Are we prepared for it? Are we keeping that dwelling place clean and presentable for the Lord? Life happens and temptation is real, and despite our best efforts our souls get weighed down in sin and filled up with crud, and we need a deep cleaning. The good news for us is that Jesus gave us a very tangible way to do that: the sacrament of reconciliation. Don’t let fear keep you from the confessional. We see the holy anger with which Jesus cleansed the temple in today’s Gospel. It is no small matter to profane what should be kept holy. But we have to remember that when we come to Jesus in the Sacrament of Reconciliation He isn’t ever angry with us. He is only merciful and loving, desiring nothing more than to make us holy again. photo credit bottom: Madeline Hill

  It’s like today’s readings were screaming at me. It’s as if God himself was banging down my door, shaking me, and telling me to open my eyes. It’s like Jesus was enveloping me in His arms and telling my heart to listen. The Holy Spirit was flooding my soul with the hopes I would find truth in the Word. Now that I’ve been completely dramatic, I’ll explain. The holiday season is upon us. This is my absolute favorite time of the year and I love everything about it. But am I really loving what I should be? Like many, I get caught up in the commercial and superficial side of this time of year. I think about what I want. I think about what I want to do. I think about decorations and presents and holiday stuff. I make plans for traveling. I make lists. I schedule. And I say “I" too much. This is the time of the year to be grateful, to appreciate the abundance of life, to do away with excess, and to share with those less fortunate. But what have I been doing instead? I’ll tell you, it’s none of the above. I’ve been selfish. I’ve been obsessive. I’ve been impatient. I’ve been vain. "You are those who justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts; for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God.” I’ve been so focused on my own interests that I have forgotten to live like Him. I’ve been impatient with my husband; I’ve been out of touch with my family; and I have been thinking too much about myself. And it has got to stop. "I can do all things in him who strengthens me." But I firmly believe that God has sent His angels down to wake me up. When I saw that I was assigned these readings for my devotion, I actually smirked. It was like God was saying, in His beautiful, subtle, and perfect way, that His Word is our guidebook to life in every way. It was so obvious. He was telling me, no shouting at me, to remember the reason for the season. “It is well with the man who deals generously and lends, who conducts his affairs with justice.” So today, I am reminded of the true meaning of this time of year. We must give generously with our hearts. We must put others first. We must follow His commandments in honoring our fellow man. We must give. We must. Do you get caught up in the hustle and bustle of this time of year? Do you ever forget the true meaning of giving? How do you get back on track? 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. photo credit top / bottom

The readings today are powerful as always. But it is the First Reading that really grabs me with its inherent contradictions. Saint Paul tells the Philippians that his "joy and crown, stand firm thus in the Lord, my beloved." His joy and his crown. Christ will change our bodies to be like His glorious body. The body that was brutalized and mutilated before and during the crucifixion. His head crowned with a crown of thorns crushed into His skull. And Saint Paul is calling us to join him in imitation of Christ. Which kind of crown is Saint Paul talking about here? On the one hand it is a crown of a king. On the other it is the crown of a dying man, ridiculed by soldiers on His way to die on gory death. Two different crowns. All the same Person. All embodied in this Person we want to imitate. Someone so powerful He can "subject all things to [h]imself." Another contradiction. He can subject us to Him. He can override our desires and make us obey // worship // follow // be like Him. But he doesn't. He has a crown waiting in the commonwealth of Heaven for us. He wants us to live differently. He wants us to choose Him // love // truth // non-materialism. He's inviting us to embrace pain and suffering to live closer to Him. Ack! Embrace a crown of thorns? I'd prefer the tiara, please. Embrace a life dictated by my belly, desires, and joyfully rampant materialism? Now that sounds more like what I'm naturally drawn to, with a little window dressing of spirituality. We're talking major overhaul here. We're talking saying no to myself and my needs and wants and desires and instead saying yes to the harder things. Not buying that $4 hot cocoa that I really want and saving that money to stay within our food budget. Not spending the extra time scrolling the inter web on my iPhone but getting up once the baby is done nursing to tidy up the house and make my husband's lunch. Not longing for beautiful clothing that is simply not within our budget (and not complaining about that budget). Have a body that's been through the physical trauma of childbirth three times over (and hopefully many more times again). Have wrinkles and lines and sags and bags and trust that this body will be glorified by Christ later, much later. When we choose to say no to ourselves and yes to the crown of thorns, to a mama's body that's been crushed by carrying and nursing three kids, can we do it with joy? Which part of our crown are we struggling with wearing? And how can we become beloved with Christ without sharing His crown? 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.

  We live in a world obsessed with success. Blaring messages of perfection and so-called true satisfaction beckon to us. Magazine covers and Pinterest offer us the steps to obtaining the perfect job, a more attractive body, an organized home, or a compatible significant other. Taunting images flash up with ways we can improve our situation to gain the next piece in our success puzzle. And then we have Saint Paul, who writes and equates the gains of this world to garbage. In his letter to the Philippians, he tells of how all that gain he had in the world, he now counts as loss. He does this in order to “Gain Christ,” but what does this even mean? Knowing a bit of Saint Paul’s back story prior to his radical conversion on the road to Damascus helps us a little with understanding where he’s coming from. Born in Tarsus, Paul was brought up as a faithful Jew. He was sent when very young to be taught by the greatest teacher of his age, and then as a grown man, became a Pharisee who held fast to the teachings of Jewish law and traditions. Gained by his ancestors, Saint Paul also held citizenship to Rome, which offered him special rights and protections, a privilege which the common man at the time did not have. At the time of his conversion, Saint Paul was living life well. He was on the culture of his time’s “road to success.” Typically my thought when gaining something turns my focus to myself and what I’m getting out of it. How I will feel. What it will improve in my life. In Christ, we have a new value system to measure our success by. In our striving, our motivation and our prize are to be Christ. As the source of our faith, Christ offers us the belief in Himself. What we seek to attain, eternal life and freedom from sin, He has already gained. He never leaves us and will walk with us through our struggles to gain Truth. We are justified before the Father as we look to the examples Christ gave us while he walked and lived as a man on earth. And forever in our sight is our future gain as we aim for Heaven. There is endless richness to be found in gaining Christ, sweet sisters. “Seek His presence continually” as our Psalmist reminds us. Today as you move throughout the temptations of success and gain that this world offers, aim higher still. Spend a moment here and there contemplating what your life would look like if each action in your day was in pursuit of attaining Christ. Of how you would treat those around you if you saw Christ in them and knew your mutual goal was to spur one another heavenward. Set your goal on gaining Christ. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, and when not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or writing at her blog. You can find out more about her here.

Today’s Gospel Reading is one that can be hard for some to manage. As a convert to Catholicism, I hold it dear because I chose to leave my roots and accept a transformation of heart and mind when I became Catholic as an adult. This was not without struggle or strife, and tears were shed, not just by me, but by family members as well. But even for those who have grown in the faith, there comes a time when we take it on as our own. It is no longer the faith of our mother and father, but rather it is ours. Christ instructs us to leave everything behind—people and possessions both. This doesn’t mean we have to sever every relationship we have and enter a convent. Rather, we need to have total dedication to God without concern for attachment to people or possessions. Don’t worry about what others think, when you know you are doing what is right by God. Don’t pine for the ‘old life’—that life when you didn’t know God! He further tells us that as we take on discipleship, we accept a life of difficulty, of suffering, and even persecution. We should enter into this discipleship understanding exactly what we are doing. Ever the practical, Saint Paul leaves us with specific ways that we are to act once we have taken on this new life in Christ. We are to work out (our) salvation with fear and trembling. We are instructed to allow God to build the desire in us to serve Him, to do everything without grumbling or questioning. As a mother I pray someday my own children will desire to serve the Lord and others; that they will finally work without grumbling or questioning. But really how well do I do in those areas? My desire is great, but I do my share of grumbling for sure. So today, I challenge you to look both inside and out. Do you still pine for people—their attention or their approval maybe? Do you covet possessions? Do you take on the Lord’s work with grumbling or question what you know to be true? The closer we come to being true disciples of Christ, then the closer we come to being ‘blameless and innocent’ as we ‘shine like lights of the world.’ 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.

Today's Gospel passage shakes me; it makes me nervous. I read it and pray, "Oh shoot, Jesus! Save me from myself!" My days are filled with excuses. Groceries to put away, dinner to begin, kids to get to school, laundry to ignore. I have this family, this house, and these volunteer activities—all good things—that I must attend to! I am too busy to suffer, to pray, to adore, to confess—or at least too busy to do them as well and as often as I ought. Sometimes, if I am being honest, I am too busy to love God. I know that this is my vocation—this is the life God has called me to live and to honor Him I try to live it well. But He has still invited me to a banquet—to something beyond the marriage, family, and life He has called me to. There are even more good things that He wants to give me. Friends, I do not want to be left behind. The servant told the master that there was still room and I am desperate to be one of those who fills the Master's house. Time is not out. I still have a chance to accept the invitation, as do you. Let us go. 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.

Humbly Seeking Humility. Selfishness. Its a killer. If you didn't pick up on the theme in the First Reading, welp, it's reiterated in the Gospel too, don't worry. Did you get the memo? Humility > Selfishness. Pride just wells up so nicely in this extroverted, outgoing, loud, opinionated, bull-headed personality that encompasses in my little person, oh joy. God is drastically calling us to a life of selflessness, sacrificial love, and having an attitude of not expecting anything in return. Ouch. That hurts, but it's radical, it's counter-cultural . . . shoot, it's counter-human. We do not naturally strive to do anything without an inkling of expectation of something to get in return. It's not bad—it's normal. What is radical is consciously making an effort to fight that feeling. Striving to always have an attitude of self-donation towards others. One of my favorite lyrics from a christian song is: "Holy fire, burn away, my desire for anything that is not of you, but is of me. I want more of you and less of me." Burn, baby, burn. Burn that rotten junk that collects in my heart of thoughts, words, deeds, and actions that are all about me! Humility has a quicker absorption rate if the focus is about Jesus—not to focus again on lessening one self—but an increasing of Jesus. If Jesus is bigger, naturally I will be smaller. Humility is about making Jesus bigger. If I am focused on Him, then I am not focused on myself. If I am trying to love Him, then I am not looking for ways to feel loved. If I am serving Him, then I am not seeking to be served. If I am grateful for what He has given me, then I am not reaching to be appreciated. Ladies. We can do this. We can make our lives, vocations, actions, and thoughts focused more on Him. I join with you today to let this prayer rock our hearts and make Christ the BMOH (Big Man of Our Heart). Litany of Humility: O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me. From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being loved... From the desire of being extolled ... From the desire of being honored ... From the desire of being praised ... From the desire of being preferred to others ... From the desire of being consulted ... From the desire of being approved ... From the fear of being humiliated ... From the fear of being despised... From the fear of suffering rebukes ... From the fear of being calumniated ... From the fear of being forgotten ... From the fear of being ridiculed ... From the fear of being wronged ... From the fear of being suspected ... That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be esteemed more than I ... That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease ... That others may be chosen and I set aside ... That others may be praised and I unnoticed ... That others may be preferred to me in everything ... That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should … AMEN! Cassie 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.