Recently I attended a barbell class at my local gym. We were doing power presses in rapid succession and, with the music blaring and the teacher encouraging us to more, I began to laugh like a maniac. Thoughts raced through my mind as I pumped the bar over my head and continued to laugh: What are we doing? Will I be able to lift anything later? Am I enjoying this? Who am I? With my weak arms up in the air, I thought of Moses whose hands grew tired while he raised them to the Lord (see Exodus 17:12), and I thought of how his family and friends, Aaron and Hur, helped him when he was tired. Together they were able to persevere and the Israelites won the battle. The Christian life is a battle, and a much harder one than a 5:30am workout. Constantly we are bombarded by the evil one and I am quite certain that it is the living Word of God Who acts as our Aaron and Hur, supporting us when we grow weary, training us in righteousness, and equipping us for every good work. (See 2 Timothy 3:16-17.) Jesus wants us to “pray always without becoming weary” (Luke 18:1) and when I am speechless, desperate, or overwhelmed it is almost always Scripture that I lean on. "I believe, help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24) "Lord, have mercy." (Psalm 57:2) "Hail Mary, full of grace." (Luke 1:41) "Give us our daily bread." (Matthew 6:11) Some things in life will rattle us, but they will never be too much for Scripture. [bctt tweet="When I am speechless, desperate, or overwhelmed it is almost always Scripture that I lean on. // @BonnieEngstrom" username="blessedisshe__"] This talk about prayer without ceasing by the founder of a monastery in Italy offers so many nuggets of wisdom on how to live this way. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker, and homemaker. She lives with her husband and eight children in Illinois. Bonnie is the author of "61 Minutes to a Miracle" which tells the story of her son's miracle that was approved by Pope Francis for the beatification of Venerable Fulton Sheen. She likes to bake, putz about the yard, and tell her kids to tidy the house. She is the author of the Blessed Conversations Mystery: Believe study found here and a contributing author to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

"[D]o not worry about how or what your defense will be or about what you are to say. For the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say" (Luke 12:11-12). It was the most suspenseful moment of my junior year. The moments after I had auditioned for a Shakespeare competition that sent students from different regions of the United States to New York City for the weekend of a thespian lifetime. I collapsed into my seat in the auditorium, sweaty and shaky. The year prior I had auditioned and received very frank feedback. All of which said, "You sucked" in the way only nice English teachers can say without totally crushing you. This year would be different, a year when my older sister had moved off to college and left me adrift in the high school whose small walls we had shared for two years, a year when I lost friends to partying that I was too timid to take part in, a year when I was determined to be authentically me in the year #2000. When I reached out and tried something again, something I had failed at miserably before, I was asking the Holy Spirit to give me a chance to stretch my passions into gifts. To not worry about how I came off, the Catholic girl from a big family who had sucked last year. To simply continue trying to be me, all of me, and give honor and glory to God in doing it. Sometimes evangelizing looks less like handing someone a Bible or inviting them to a small group study and more like getting up and trying again to pursue what God has put on your heart. It's all of that, really. And that weekend in New York? It was epic and I couldn't believe I won and got to go. Thanks, Holy Spirit. Where can you ask Him to help you either defend the faith or live your life giving honor to it? Especially if you've failed and are trying again. He wants to help. [bctt tweet="Sometimes evangelizing looks less like handing someone a Bible or inviting them to a small group study and more like getting up and trying again to pursue what God has put on your heart. // @WholeParenting" username="blessedisshe__"] The Holy Spirit is the third Person of the Blessed Trinity—see what more the Catechism has to say about Who He is. Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer turned blogger, speaker, and sewer of baby goods while tending to her husband and four kiddos in the great city of Saint Paul, Minnesota. She serves as Managing Editor for Blessed is She and can down a hot cocoa in no time flat. Find out more about her here. She is the editor of our Blessed Conversations Series and guide for the Gift of You course and contributing author to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations.

Many years ago, I served as a missionary for a Catholic ministry. During our training, one of the things I frequently heard was that while we were called to go out and teach others about Jesus, we would also find that God would do some transformative work in our own hearts. The truth of those words still bleeds into my life now, some fifteen years later. Part of our service meant that, like the disciples Jesus sent out in today’s Gospel, we were at the mercy of other’s generosity. Sure, there were scheduled retreats, host homes, and travel days which gave a sense of security. But ultimately you were handed a route, a bed, a meal, and you were in a position of vulnerability. Just as Jesus instructed His disciples in today’s Gospel to “eat what is set before you” (Luke 10:8) we were told to graciously accept the offerings of our retreat hosts and host families. Did we grumble? Sure, sometimes we did. I realize now, though, the wisdom of those leading the ministry in teaching us to accept with open hands what others were giving to us. It was more than smiling at the hotdish and egg bake, and day after day of pizza and spaghetti lunches. They were preparing us to accept, with open hands, the generosity of the Father. Sometimes that generosity isn’t exactly desirable. Whether it be an unexpected job change, a difficult roommate, a death in the family, or an unplanned child, God’s providence can take a while to unfold. The Father is generous, and for some of us, accepting that generosity takes a little more practice. But maybe we can start in the small things, like the meals set before us, or the seat at the table that we are being offered. [bctt tweet="God’s providence can take a while to unfold. // @jacquiskemp" username="blessedisshe__"] Do you have a favorite of these prayers for vocations? Jacqueline Skemp is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother who endures living in Minnesota after leaving California for her one true love. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

“It must feel so good to be received,” a friend observed as I recounted a conversation with someone I met in an airport. We were in awe over how I ended up sharing my heart for the mission of the Kingdom with a stranger. It was one of those instant connections. Who would have expected this level of sharing in a Southwest terminal? I still marvel over how much I learned as we shared ideas and experiences. Sometimes people ask what I like to do for fun, and although I know it sounds cheesy, I think to tell them I like to spend time talking with friends about the things of the Kingdom. It’s profoundly affirming and rejuvenating to speak with brothers and sisters in Christ in this way because it reminds us of the most important, most beautiful, most meaningful things of life. The laundry, the dishes, the errands, the to-do lists all find purpose and grace when we remember the Kingdom. Ordinary life becomes a million moments where God can manifest His unbounded love through my words, thoughts, and deeds. And I that is why I love the mission of Blessed is She. Sisters, isn’t it neat how we can get together and talk about our beautiful life of faith? Isn’t it a gift to be received by sisters in Christ and to be seen? Saint Paul speaks of the righteousness given to us by faith in Christ in the First Reading today. (See Romans 3:21.) It is a new way of living. We live by the logic of the Kingdom of love made manifest in Christ Jesus Our Lord. And we live in this grace not firstly because of what we do but because of who we are as daughters of God through Christ. This is at the heart of Saint Paul’s message today, and this is why he goes on to encourage us to live by the Spirit. It’s like he is saying, “Live in a new way! Live the new Way—Who is Christ.” Saint Paul knows that God is the Most Faithful Friend Who receives us and sees us. God wants to speak with us and to speak about what is most important, beautiful, and meaningful. The question is: Will I make time for Him? Do listen to the King of Love; the King of My Heart? [bctt tweet="Isn’t it a gift to be received by sisters in Christ and to be seen? // @srmariakim" username="blessedisshe__"] Make a stop by church or an adoration chapel this week and greet Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. Not sure what to do for a Holy Hour? Read through this BiS blog post on it. Sister Maria Kim Bui is a Daughter of Saint Paul, women religious dedicated to evangelization in and through the media. She is originally from Tempe, AZ, spent most of her fourteen years in religious life in the northeast, some time in Texas, and now was recently asked to serve as the director of marketing and sales at the Sisters' publishing house in Boston. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and the author of our Blessed Conversations Mystery: Belong found here and our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. Find out more about her here.

The sun was shining, but it did little to console the coldness I felt in my heart. I watched my best guy friend (and secret crush) talk and laugh with another girl . . . a girl he had just asked to be his girlfriend. I was young, but it was my first taste of love and heartbreak. That memory came to mind as I read the autobiography of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque whose feast day we celebrate today. Saint Margaret Mary was a French nun living in the 1600s. While in the convent, she experienced apparitions of Jesus. He spoke to her about His Sacred Heart and how it burns for love of mankind. Even more striking to me, Jesus also spoke of the immense sorrow He felt from the ingratitude and coldness He received from those He loved. I’ve tried to wrap my head around that. Jesus loves us so much He not only suffered, died, and conquered death, but He deigned to become our literal Bread of Life so He would always remain close to us. He longs to talk to us and unite Himself with us. Yet, far too often, He is left alone, or worse, reviled and ridiculed. Although our human experiences of rejection are minuscule in comparison to what Jesus experienced, it can still move us to sympathize and want to console Our Lord and love Him more fervently. Personally, it has inspired me to talk to Him more during the day, stop by the adoration chapel for a few minutes, and begin the First Friday devotion in which you receive Holy Communion nine First Fridays in a row. The majority of us are not nuns and it isn't our vocation to spend countless hours before the Blessed Sacrament every day. However, it is our vocation to love. The more we turn our hearts to Jesus and the more we curb our selfishness and reach out in charity to those around us, the closer our hearts will draw towards the Sacred Heart of Jesus, bringing Him love and consolation. [bctt tweet="The majority of us are not nuns and it isn't our vocation to spend countless hours before the Blessed Sacrament every day. However, it is our vocation to love. // @bobbi_rol" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn more about the First Fridays devotion here. Bobbi Rol is a wife, mama and blogger living on the Monterey Bay in CA with her husband, teen daughter, and three rambunctious boys. When she is not dodging light sabers or stepping on Legos, she can be found outside with her family, catching a late night movie, or decorating her planner. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

“Just one more cookie, mom! Please?!” my toddler begged in the middle of our family prayer meeting. “I ate my whole dinner!” “You already had a cookie, sweetheart.” “But there are leftovers, and we are allowed to have more if our parents say it’s ok.” “Buddy, if you eat more cookies, you’ll get a belly ache later. I’m just trying to help you avoid that.” He continued his articulate defense while I calculated the cost of law school for this kid. Seeing this as a possible teaching moment, I decided to let him indulge in several more cookies. You can guess what happened. Before we even scrubbed the sugar off his teeth, he began to complain of a stomach ache. He struggled to fall asleep. He was cranky. When he woke up the next morning, he declared that he would no longer eat that many cookies at once. He had learned his lesson. At least for now. I’ve had many cookie moments with Jesus. I taste something delicious and want to indulge, whether literally or figuratively. I argue my case like a toddler blinded by processed sugars. God reminds me that He is my true nourishment. The cookies won’t help me feel better like I think they will. Nevertheless I sneak all the metaphorical cookies off the table. And, respecting the free will that He gave me, He lets me. Because He is a good and wise Father. He knows I will make myself sick. He knows that I’m not listening to His warnings and that I am vain in my reasoning (see Romans 1:21), so He hands me over to “the lusts of my hearts” (see Romans 1:24) because I’d rather have a lie than the truth of God (see Romans 1:25). And every time this happens, my belly aches. My soul aches. I crawl into the Father’s arms because I can’t fall asleep. I’m cranky. I learn my lesson. At least for now. If you’ve also eaten all the cookies of comfort or pleasure or esteem or perceived belonging, come to Christ with a repentant heart. He is our true nourishment and satisfaction and wants to help us never give in again. [bctt tweet="God reminds me that He is my true nourishment. // @to_the_heights" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn a few new details about the person whose feast we celebrate today, Saint Teresa of Avila. Olivia Spears lives in Kentucky where sweet tea and bourbon flow like milk and honey. She is the Blog Manager for Blessed is She and works from home as an editor and social media manager. She likes to binge novels and Netflix while raising her children and laughing with her husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

"Sing to the Lord a new song" (Psalm 98:1). I awaken this morning with a heart full of expectation. I know that I am a vessel of His. I know that in and through me, He can and will work wondrous deeds. Not for my glory, but for His. In the sight of the nations, His justice is revealed. In my day to day, in my interactions with others, in the way I approach the mundane, His justice is revealed. In my obedience, in my willingness to serve, in my desire to love well, His kindness and faithfulness are remembered. It is so easy for me to brush off my personal call to apostleship. I am not traveling from country to country sharing the Gospel. I am not walking miles and miles from town to town, knocking on doors hoping to share a conversation with another about the person of Jesus. And I am definitely not in the belly of a whale like Jonah mentioned in today's Gospel, and I think it’s 100% safe to say, I never will be. (See Luke 11:30.) And yet, my call to obedience, to a life of faith and apostleship, is just as real today for me as it was for both Jonah and Saint Paul in the First Reading. It simply looks different. But it is still just as much of a call. I awaken today with a song in my heart. I will serve You, Lord. In my willingness to attend to the tasks of this day. I will serve You today in the way I generously and lovingly choose to serve those You place before me. Lead me to the wondrous deeds You so desire me to complete. For Your greater glory and my greater good. May my song rise to You. In the ordinary moments of this day which You take and make extraordinary, let me be a sign of Your love, grace, and mercy. [bctt tweet="I know that in and through me, He can and will work wondrous deeds. // Shalini Blubaugh" username="blessedisshe__"] Pray the above prayer with us today, sisters. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their brand new gal pal, Callan, and quite large GSD pup, Sully. She is a health coach and loves pizza, because #balance. Shalini graduated from the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities, served with NET Ministries, and went on to attend Law School. She graduated with her J.D. and happily leaves all things Law behind! Some of her favorites include travel, re-connecting with old friends and making new ones, the ways in which God so beautifully brings all things full circle in His time, and a good, loud thunderstorm. She is a contributing author to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. Find out more about her here.

In today's Second Reading, I am struck by Saint Paul's reminder to us—he declares that he has shared the Gospel to the point of being imprisoned for it. In Colossians 4:18, Saint Paul reflects a similar sentiment when he writes to the people, "Remember my chains." If Saint Paul can be chained up and locked away and still find the perseverance to preach the Gospel, I can stand for my faith in 2019. When I reflect on Saint Paul's imprisonment, I take a step further to reflect on all those who have gone before us just as Saint Paul did, persevering in faith until death so they may reign with God forever. (See 2 Timothy 2:12.) Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Saint Stephen, the Ugandan martyrs, Saint Jose Sanchez del Rio, Saint Dymphna, Saint Joan . . . the list of people who were imprisoned and killed in the name of Jesus Christ is long, and here I am worrying about being mocked for my faith at my job. We worry about witnessing to our faith to our relatives at Thanksgiving, worry about telling a date that we're living chastely, worry about the consequences of small inconveniences and condescending commentary about our Catholic beliefs when so many were willing to be chained up and die. Where is our courage? Today, let us allow Saint Paul's words to propel us in a new way, to remember his imprisonment for Jesus, his literal chains, and remember the suffering of the martyrs—allowing that to inspire us to press on forward, stopping at nothing so that all may know His name. [bctt tweet="Where is our courage? // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] The late Mother Angelica shared her message of courage that resonates with us today. Emily Wilson Hussem planned her whole life to become a sports reporter but turned out to be a Catholic musician and speaker at the hand of God. She lives out of her suitcase and travels across the world speaking to people of all ages. The heart of her ministry is offering encouragement to teen girls in search of their true identity, and she loves every second of it. She is the author of I Choose the Sky and Go Bravely. She is a contributing author to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

There is a beautiful Marian Shrine in the town where I live dedicated to Our Lady of LaLeche. This image of Our Lady depicts Mary tenderly nursing the Infant Jesus on her lap. The devotion to this "Nursing Mother of Happy Delivery" was brought over by the Spanish settlers who wanted to consecrate the first diocese in America to our Lady's patronage. Many individuals and couples from all over the country come to this Shrine to ask Mary to intercede for them to be able to conceive a baby, to experience a healthy pregnancy and delivery, to receive comfort after miscarriage, and to offer prayers for all things related to birth, children, relationships, and healing. The woman in today's Gospel acknowledges Jesus' mother as she cries out, "Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed" (Luke 11:27). I can't help but think of the image of Our Lady of LaLeche, she who invites us to contemplate the hidden joys and challenges she must have experienced during her pregnancy and delivery, as well as all the human and intimate experiences including breastfeeding Baby Jesus. "Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it," Jesus responds to the woman in Luke 11:28. Jesus' Mother Mary is literally the queen of hearing and observing the Word of God. She so fully receives the Word of God that He is incarnated within her. Mary is the Queen Mother who embodies femininity and active receptivity perfectly. Her whole life is an active reception of hearing and observing God's Word, Jesus Himself. Perhaps today we can look to Mary as our Mother and come into a greater posture of openness, receptivity, and action in our response of faith towards God. Let us ask Mary, Our Lady of LaLeche, to teach us to better embody our femininity and to imitate her active receptivity to listen and live out the special purpose God has given to each one of us. [bctt tweet="Mary is the Queen Mother who embodies femininity and active receptivity perfectly. // Mary Catherine Craige" username="blessedisshe__"] Have you seen these ten quotes on the feminine genius? Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her free time dancing, writing, playing the Irish harp and surfing the ocean waves of northeast Florida. As a transformational life coach, she supports women like you to create beauty out of challenging circumstances and to design a life of abundance, freedom and joy as the person God has created you to be. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

Teary-eyed and discouraged I sat in the office of my spiritual director, mulling over a sin that I had confessed a few years previous. I knew that I had been forgiven, but the memory of it now came needling back at me: "How could I have not seen how painful that choice would be?" "Had God really forgiven me?" "The whole thing just seems so . . . unforgivable." Through my tears I caught the gaze of my spiritual director. He pulled a tissue from the box between us, handed it to me, and looked on me with the love and compassion of any good spiritual father. "You've already been forgiven," he said. "But sometimes we can use these opportunities to discover again the Lord's mercy. Go to Him in Adoration. Offer Him, one more time, your contrite heart. Ask Him to flood it with His mercy." Sisters, the Jews in today's First Reading knew (just like my trusted spiritual director knew) that nothing could be lost and everything could be gained by seeking the Lord's forgiveness in sincerity. (See Joel 1:13-15.) Even if we've confessed a particular sin, and even if we know in our heads that we're forgiven, there is still a beautiful opportunity to seek His merciful heart once more. Do your heart still ache from a past sin? Remember these wise words: Go to Him in Adoration. Offer Him, one more time, your contrite heart. And ask Him to flood it with His mercy. Like any good father, Our Lord is there to remind our forgetful hearts that we are always loved, always cherished, and always forgiven. [bctt tweet="Seek His merciful heart once more. // Karen Schultz" username="blessedisshe__"] Did you catch this BiS blog post on finding a spiritual director? Karen Schultz hails from the Land of 10,000 lakes, where she is often found in or near one of them. As a doula, lactation educator, and FertilityCare Practitioner, she finds joy in helping women to embrace the gift of their bodies. Downtime is found in quiet adoration chapels, farmers markets and gardens, listening to bluegrass music, and embracing the diversity of Minnesota’s seasons. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia and to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

I have a prayer that I am afraid to speak. I have been holding it close to my heart for several years, unable to utter the words because doing so would be asking for a miracle of Biblical proportions. It’s not that I don’t believe in miracles—I do. I’m just not sure I believe in miracles happening for me. Or maybe I am just afraid to ask. Afraid to take that risk, afraid that the answer will be no. Instead of a Heavenly Father Who loves His children, I picture a stern Father. One careful not to spoil. One wanting me to learn my lesson, to sit dutifully, to be seen and not heard. But that is not the picture of God painted in today’s Gospel reading, Luke 11:5-13. We are told to ask and knock, and to keep asking and keep knocking. Because like a loving Father, God enjoys listening to His children. Like a loving Father, He delights in giving us good gifts. So what does that mean for the miracle I secretly long for? Does it mean God will give exactly what I hope? I don’t know. After all, God is not some Santa-like being sitting up in Heaven granting wishes. His wisdom in infinite, and His ways can be unfathomable. But for all the things we can’t understand, we can find rest in knowing He is always good. Maybe the miracle I want will happen; maybe a miracle I had never even considered will take place instead. Maybe the miracle will be that I opened my heart in faith to a Father Who loves me and is always good. [bctt tweet="We can find rest in knowing He is always good. // Anna Coyne" username="blessedisshe__"] Read up on these Eucharistic miracles as they will astound you! Anna Coyne is a wife, mother, and convert to the Catholic Faith. She is a classically trained pianist who, after teaching for ten years now stays home with her three young children. but still manages to flex her creative muscles through writing, knitting, and gardening. She is proud to call Saint Paul home and loves everything about living in Minnesota, except for winter. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional, Rise Up and our Advent devotional, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

“Our Fa-der, who art in heaven,” his sweet little voice recites proudly. My son is learning this foundational Christian prayer, the one Jesus first taught us in Luke 11:1-4. “Give us this day, and our daily bread,” he continues each night, not realizing he has added a word. My heart melts and swells with joy at the purity of this. Oh, that we, too, might pray the 'Our Father' with the heart of a child! That this prayer of old might become fresh and new for us once again. That in the midst of these words we have prayed oh-so-many times, we might rediscover in their profound simplicity the keys to prayer. That our innate understanding of the spiritual might be restored to the way it once was, before the experiences of the world clouded our purity of vision and heart. Pray with me, sisters: God, how blessed we are to call You our Father. How blessed we are that You chose us, You called us into being, and You desire relationship with us. Lord, would You gift us with a deeper understanding of how beloved we are by You? You “give us this day” each day. Yes, today—this very moment—is a gift. Would You give me enough bread for today, Lord? Sustain me today, and grant me the grace to lay down my worries about tomorrow. May I trust You enough to live fully in the present moment. Help me to sincerely forgive as Your Son taught us. I want to know, serve, and love You more, precious Lord. Increase my docility to Your Spirit, God, that You might continue to teach me to pray. [bctt tweet="Oh, that we, too, might pray the Our Father with the heart of a child! // @inendlesssong" username="blessedisshe__"] This beloved pontiff singing the 'Our Father' is stirring. Elise Howe is a wife, mother, vocal artist, teacher, and writer. A lover of authentic beauty, Elise is most joyful when creating with the inspiration of the Divine Artist. A born-and-raised Midwestern gal, she happily resides in Michigan after several years "living the dream" in New York City. Elise has a heart for ministry, dark chocolate (but not too dark) and coffee with a generous amount of cream + sugar. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia and to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. Find out more about her here.

When we moved into our new home in June, the first new thing I wanted to buy was a dining room table large enough to seat a lot of people. Scouring Facebook marketplace, eagle-eyed for deals, we eventually found a lovely, nearly eight-foot table, with eight chairs, in the exact style we wanted. As soon as we got it inside the house, all set up, a vase of fresh flowers set in the center, I told my husband, “Now . . . now we can have guests over.” He laughed and replied, “We could’ve had them over before, you know.” I snapped back, “No. Before it wasn’t perfect. But now it is.” I was so concerned with making sure everything was perfect and in the right place before welcoming guests over to our new home. From the pillows on the couch to dust on the shelves and dishes in the sink, and wanting that table worthy of my dream home, I wanted everyone who came inside to immediately think that this home of ours was always pristine, clean, and orderly. I was worried about many things, most of all, the outward appearances of our house. I assumed our guests wouldn’t enjoy themselves if it wasn’t perfect. Martha makes that same assumption with Jesus, a guest in her home. She rushes around, burdened with serving, and then even asks Jesus to acknowledge all she’s done (which is all good work) and insist her sister help too and stop spending time with Him. But Jesus reminds her, and us, that the best thing—the better part—is to first be with those you’ve welcomed into your home: to celebrate their presence, rejoice in their company, sit with them, share that meal, and be grateful for the time together. Ultimately, Jesus wants that time with us too. He doesn’t want us to worry if the corners of our hearts are spotless and clean before we draw close to Him. In fact we cannot become clean unless we draw close to Him, especially in the Sacrament of Penance. He is just waiting for us to rest in Him and ask for His help. Jesus invites us, every day, to choose the better part. That better part is always to be with Him first, worries and burdens set aside, focused on Him—and that will not be taken from us. [bctt tweet="Jesus invites us, every day, to choose the better part. // @katieprejean" username="blessedisshe__"] The litany of humility is a great prayer to help order our hearts toward focusing on Him. Katie Prejean McGrady is an international Catholic speaker and author of three books with Ave Maria Press. After working as a theology teacher and parish youth minister for six years, Katie now travels full time across the U.S., Canada, and the U.K., speaking about faith, culture, family, evangelization, discipleship, and the best way to order a flat white (extra shot, medium temp). She and her husband Tommy have a podcast (The Electric Waffle), a dog (Barney), and a 1 year old (Rose) and live in Lake Charles, Louisiana. She is a contributing author to our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. Find out more about her here.

He sat in a pile of rags and plastic bags on the side of the bridge. There was no way to avoid him—we had to pass right by his squished paper cup with its cardboard sign: “Anything helps.” Unable to ignore him, I checked all my pockets, pulled out everything I found, and dropped it into the cup, afraid to meet his eyes. “Hey!” I turned anxiously, saw the tiny circle he held up in his fingers. “This is a button!” My cheeks flamed as I turned away. This shouldn’t even be my problem. * * * “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 10:25) The scholar tried to trap Jesus, but it’s a legitimate question. “Follow the law,” Jesus replied. “How do you read it?” “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” To “justify himself,” he asked another question: “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29) As if the first parts of this commandment are easy enough for him! If I loved God so all-consumingly that every nameable part of me was totally His, would I even need to ask? Who is my neighbor? Who is outside the perimeter of the circle of people I am required to love? The priest and Levite acted within the law, preserving the ritual purity required for their roles. They couldn’t be reasonably expected to make themselves unclean to help someone. It wasn’t their job. It would have made them unable to do their jobs. As the scholar recognized, though, the “neighbor” to the victim was the Samaritan who had no responsibility for him except as a fellow human being. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus says. Jesus didn’t cancel, change, or replace the law. His point is clear: mercy is the law. We may decide it doesn’t apply to our circumstances. We can decide not to choose mercy, and our reasons are between us and God. But if we dare to ask the scholar’s question to justify ourselves, we might find it shows us how far we have to go. [bctt tweet="Jesus didn’t cancel, change, or replace the law. His point is clear: mercy is the law. // @dere_abbey" username="blessedisshe__"] This surprising artwork of the Good Samaritan may be a work you're unfamiliar with. Abbey Dupuy is the Assistant Theological Editor for Blessed is She and writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four frequently barefoot children. She is a graduate student in liturgical theology at Saint John's University. In her spare time, she enjoys running, gardening, coffee, and cookbooks, not usually at the same time. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up, author of our Blessed Conversations: The Virtues study found here, and our Advent devotional book, All the Generations. You can find out more about her here.

I have always thought the celebration dances done by professional football players were pretty dumb. Athletes are being paid millions of dollars to do what they love to do. When they score, they are simply doing their jobs correctly. If they score a lot, they will be paid a lot more to do what they love to do. This isn’t to say I don’t appreciate great athletic achievements, but outside of sports we rarely see jubilation for just doing a job correctly. In the spiritual life, it is easy to pat ourselves on the back and feel good about our spiritual practices. But today's Gospel reminds us that if we are faithful servants of Christ, acting in accordance with His will for our lives, praying, going to Mass, reading Scripture, it's all just our job. (See Luke 17:5-10.) And just as a football player gets paid hordes of cash for putting on his helmet and doing his job on the field, we get hordes of grace when we cooperate with God will and do that which we are obliged. And maybe that is why it feels so good to be faithful in the spiritual life. It feels good to open ourselves up to God’s grace. This isn’t to say that our lives are easy when we live them faithfully. Scripture tells us quite the contrary. But that isn’t the point. We don’t live a faithful life because it is easy or fun. We live it out of our love for God and in the hope of eternal happiness with Him. We strive to be open to embrace the peace and joy that comes from following Christ, make self-corrections when we stray from that path, and just keep doing the right thing one day at a time. When we fully participate in the life Christ is asking us to lead, the rewards aren’t external. It is all about having faith that the rewards and celebrations will come when we stand face to face with our beloved Lord. [bctt tweet="We don’t live a faithful life because it is easy or fun. We live it out of our love for God and in the hope of eternal happiness with Him. // Dr. MaryRuth Hackett" username="blessedisshe__"] Are you wanting to fully cooperate with God's grace in your life? Maybe start with the Sacrament of Penance this weekend. Dr. MaryRuth Hackett is the host of the podcast Parenting Smarts. She loves historical fiction, dark chocolate, watching her children play soccer, a good cup of coffee (decaf please) and the quiet of the early morning. She holds a PhD in Educational Psychology and has a passion for helping parents understand the way their children grow and develop. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and the author of our Blessed Conversations: Leader Guide found here. You can find out more about her here.

A therapist I had when I was in my twenties described it this way: I had an all-out addiction to misery and woe; I was bound to a martyrdom of a most unholy kind. The wounds of my youth had created in me a walking hope-crusher swimming in negativity. Think “Eeyore” without the charm. I cringe to think of how I must have burdened my family and friends with this festering life posture. Thankfully, those who know me now would never imagine that at one point in my life, I was crippled with self-pity and negativity. God’s healing has been deep and thorough. And now, in the time-honored tradition of “If you spot it, you got it!” I can see this affliction in others quickly and it always makes me smile a little bit. I smile because I know how to pray for them and because I see myself from so long ago. I know exactly how much healing is available to them in Christ. That is: 100 percent. It is not too late, no matter what your bondage may be—food, shopping, pessimism, self-pity, pornography, an affair of the heart—whatever your “no-god” god is, as Baruch calls it. It is never too late, no matter how entrenched you might be in some destructive and sinful habit, to “turn ten times the more to seek him,” to seek the One Who has written your name in Heaven. (See Baruch 4:28.) And to any sister-Eeyore out there, I’m telling you, you do not have to be a slave to pessimism, self-doubt, or negativity. You have been designed for hope; I know it. And I’m praying for you. I promise. [bctt tweet="You have been designed for hope; I know it. // Liz Kelly" username="blessedisshe__"] Delve deep into these beautiful prayers for healing as set forth by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Liz Kelly is a jazz singer who fell in love with Jesus. She writes, teaches, offers spiritual direction and retreats with a special interest in helping women to flourish in their faith. She’s written six books, including the award-winning Jesus Approaches and the Jesus Approaches Study Supplement. And she still sings jazz, but mainly in the tub and while washing dishes. Find out more about her here.

The quiet permeated the peaceful streets of Assisi. I was there with my study abroad program learning about Saint Francis of Assisi. Stunning views of the fertile valley below the stone city accompanied us as we followed the steep road outside the walls towards the San Damiano chapel where Jesus told Saint Francis to “rebuild His Church which was falling into ruin.” Taking the Lord’s words literally, he rebuilt the little chapel itself using stones he begged from others. But Christ’s call to him was to rebuild the Body of Christ, to lead members of the Church back to love of God. Saint Francis did this by literally living like the Apostles whom Jesus is continuing to send out in today’s Gospel. (See Luke 10:13-16.) Christ sent them with no purse, bag, nor sandals to preach repentance. Born to a wealthy merchant and a noble mother, Saint Francis embraced a life of voluntary poverty. He overcame his natural inclinations to pleasure and games by taking joy in nature and living simply in prayerful community with others. He traded his selfish, expensive lifestyle for a life of loving, preaching, and serving others. In his time, thousands joined his way of life. The Order of the Friars Minor and the women’s order of the Poor Clares still exist today. His love of poverty in literally following the Gospel stands out. Some of us are called to that, but most of us are called to give up other parts of our lives. We can imitate his love of poverty by finding our own calls to different kinds of poverty. For me, I have found that the closer I draw to Christ, the more He asks of my time. My self-indulgent uses of time, escaping from my daily life, only keep me from loving Him fully. I must give it up. It is my own call to poverty, a poverty of my time. How much I could do for Him, if I would only give it all up for Him. And like Saint Francis, my greatest weakness could become my greatest strength. [bctt tweet="I have found that the closer I draw to Christ, the more He asks of my time. My self-indulgent uses of time, escaping from my daily life, only keep me from loving Him fully. // Susanna Spencer" username="blessedisshe__"] What don't you know about Saint Francis' life? Find out here. Susanna Spencer is the Theological Editor for Blessed is She who studied theology and philosophy in her earlier life. She happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul when not writing and editing. She loves beautiful liturgies, cooking delicious meals, baking amazing sweets, reading good books, raising her children, casually following baseball, and talking to her philosopher husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up and Theological Editor of the Catechism Studies, the Mystery Studies, and the Works of Mercy study. You can find out more about her here.