There are a lot of things about this world that I don’t understand. Countless things really. From basics on how gravity actually works to the complexities of quantum physics. Every so often, when I find myself subject to a conversation where the content goes over my head, I feel a sense of gratitude that I don’t have to understand everything. Yet when it comes to religion, for some reason, many of us feel as though we have to know all the answers. We have a prideful sense of egotism that whispers to us that if we don’t understand or agree with a particular teaching, it must be that the Church is wrong. On the one hand, we can accept that we don’t understand how the combustion engine actually works, but on the other, we can’t accept that we may not understand the complexities behind all the Church's teachings. In today’s reading Saint Paul cautions the presbyters of the Church of Ephesus against the wolves in their midst—those who will pervert the truth and draw people away from the Church. Perhaps the wolf in our midst is our pride. It is our pride that tells us we are right and 2000 years of Church history is wrong. We are more loving and tolerant than the Mother Church. We are smarter and holier than the Saints who have gone before us. Pride can separate us from all that is good and all that is true. Is there a particular truth of the Church you find hard to accept? Don’t let your pride undermine your faith. Take it to prayer this week before the Blessed Sacrament and ask the Lord to increase your faith and understanding. [bctt tweet="Pride can separate us from all that is good and all that is true. " username="blessedisshe__"] This is a simple format to click through and see more in-depth on Church teaching in almost every category. 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.

For years, I’ve prayed for the conversion of loved ones—people I desperately want to know the love of Jesus. I’ve offered novenas and masses, asked the intercession of both powerhouse and obscure Saints. I’ve prayed spontaneously and with that inaudible groaning only the Spirit understands. I pray so much because I care so deeply; the more I personally get to know God’s great love, the more I grasp what heart-wrenching poverty it is to live without it. Especially for eternity. I feel the urgency of forever, the weighty value of each soul like never before. As of yet, I’ve seen little fruit in those for whom I pray most. I’ve concocted perfect conversations in my head or hung my hopes on certain events, thinking “maybe this will be a catalyst for conversion!” But real life is messy, conversations are hard, and there’s always the reality that God loves us so much that He gives us free will—even to reject Him. Often it just feels futile. But I keep praying that somehow, in some way—even if I never see it this side of Heaven—the prayers will make a difference. Saint Paul clearly felt this same desire keenly. His last words to his beloved friends and spiritual children are charged with urgency, sensing one final chance to impart wisdom and knowledge to encourage eternal life in Christ. Yet Saint Paul’s words also exhibit a trust and confidence in God that my prayers often lack. They echo the same trust and confidence Jesus exhibits as He prays for “the ones His Father has given” to Him. (See John 17:9.) These words remind me that I am simply the instrument, not the Savior. And they pull me back to the truth that God has been whispering again and again: nothing is wasted. No prayer is futile. He hears it all. We only need to stay our course, as Saint Paul says, and remember that even when we perceive inaction due to spiritual blindness, He is continually working all things together for the good of souls. [bctt tweet="I am simply the instrument, not the Savior." username="PosImperfect"] Did you know what Our Lord revealed to Saint Faustina as a prayer for the conversion of friends or family? Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. She is the Stories Manager for the Blessed is She Instagram account. She’s a bibliophile, tea drinker, sleep lover, and avid admirer of Colorado’s great outdoors. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.

The first time I read through the Acts of the Apostles, I was completely struck by this line in today’s First Reading: "He entered the synagogue, and for three months debated boldly . . ." (Acts 19:8). I read it a few times, circled it, underlined it, and wrote in the margin, “Paul debated for 3 MONTHS!!!" I was so amazed at his tenacity, mostly in light of the reality that it can be utterly exhausting to be a devout Catholic in 2019. Perhaps you know what it is like to have your family, friends, co-workers, or the peanut gallery on Facebook questioning you, putting you down, or ridiculing you for your beliefs or for the counter-cultural way you choose to live in light of your Catholic faith. It can be tiring to continue to defend your beliefs, explain the Church’s teachings, and to live in our world amidst such questioning, negativity, and even hatred. On some days, all it takes to wear me out in defending my faith is one tough conversation with someone who really wants to challenge me and responds negatively about my beliefs. But when I read this line over and over, I am somewhat embarrassed that I can wear out so easily in these conversations and, in contrast, Saint Paul debated unceasingly for three months straight. As I reflect on this line once again, I am convicted ever more that as a Catholic I must step up to live as Saint Paul did—I must ask for both a tireless spirit and a steadfast resolve to defend my faith in love and in charity. I'll also pray for firmness and fortitude interwoven in each conversation and each relationship. Let us ask Saint Paul to pray for us in these troubling times—today I ask him to pray for our willingness and endurance in defending our faith and in speaking up when we know we must to stand for the Kingdom of God and His one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church. [bctt tweet="Let us ask Saint Paul to pray for us in these troubling times." username="emwilss"] Let's pray this prayer for Saint Paul's intercession today for an increase in patience. 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. You can find out more about her here.

I have a tendency to view myself as "too much." After being told that I feel or process with "too much" depth, or that I talk way "too much," I am aware that I have subconsciously internalized this image of myself as a lot to handle. In fact, the other day, I was having a conversation with my spiritual director about carrying shame because I felt like I had not fairly warned the people in my life about how messy I really was. My spiritual director gently stopped me and said, "Sarah, you are speaking like you are a liability when you are a gift." In today’s Gospel, Jesus is praying to the Father as He prepares to depart from His disciples, and He utters the most mind-boggling words. "Father, they are your gift to me" (John 17:24). Sisters, I am not sure about you, but I often struggle to see how my Creator sees me as a gift. His words move me at my core, and I recall all the seasons where I have forgotten my identity as a gift, instead thinking I am a burden or a liability. Yet, there is no lie that Jesus does not want to rescue us from. As women, this Gospel declares a special truth over our lives. We are reminded that the Messiah is not only a God Who loves us all the way to Calvary, but also really likes us. He is not annoyed with us, but likes us to the point of wanting eternity with us. It is astonishing to remember that He is not out of time for you and I. He never runs out of delight for us. He hopes we will share in His glory. He has never seen us as a liability or a burden, but is consistently unreserved in the way that He pursues our hearts. He spends some of His last earthly moments thanking His Father for us. [bctt tweet="He pursues our hearts." username="blessedisshe__"] Will you come on retreat with us this year, sisters? Give yourself the gift of a time set apart to reconnect with Our Lord in the context of sisterhood. Sarah Elizabeth is a politics pre-law major at the Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. Born and raised in Arizona, she finds great joy in mountains, lattes, American history, and the piano. She is constantly discovering Christ's wild love in the little things.

I’ll be honest: I am not a huge fan of patristics, the earliest Church fathers. When first introduced to the patristic fathers in my twenties, I often found their writing a touch misogynistic and too stilted for my taste. Of course, I was young, naïve, and had no clue about things like historical context. So today, on this Memorial of Saint Justin, an early apologist, I want to make up for the bold obliviousness of my youth, thank the myriads who patiently educated me, and remember, it’s a tough work of mercy to instruct the ignorant. To do it well and lovingly makes real demands. Raised by pagan parents, Justin’s keen mind went looking for answers to life’s questions in the passing thought-trends of his day. None satisfied until he started reading the Old Testament prophets and even earlier Church Fathers. “I fell in love with the prophets and these men who had loved Christ,” he wrote. “I . . . found that this philosophy alone was true and profitable” (Dialogus cum Tryphone 8). Saint Paul was certainly among those men that helped to convert Justin. Today, we read in Acts 18 how Paul traveled and taught the faith, “bringing strength to all the disciples.” There is also the account of Aquila and Priscilla (this powerful married couple in the early Church) having to school the new convert Apollos in order to make him more effective for the Kingdom. To fight against the ignorance that breeds the bifurcation of faith and reason, or outright persecution broadcast as entertainment, we all need constant cultivation, instruction, humility, and most of all, conversion. May any attempt I make at instructing the ignorant be aimed at bringing strength and underpinned by the knowledge that one day, like Saint Justin, like Saint Paul, it may cost me everything. Saint Justin, pray for us. [bctt tweet="We all need constant cultivation, instruction, humility, and most of all, conversion." username="blessedisshe__"] Read a few profound sayings of the Desert Mothers. 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 Take-Home Retreat. And she still sings jazz, but mainly in the tub and while washing dishes. Find out more about her here.

Many years ago, I was a young Jewish woman, estranged from my own mother and struggling to find my way into the Catholic Church. I was already a believer in Yeshua and the Holy Spirit was drawing me closer, but in my time of need, it was a young Jewish woman named Mary who took me by the hand, and as a good Jewish mother does, she determinedly accompanied me to her Father’s house and made the Church my home. Today’s familiar Gospel reading is so much more than a moving historical account of two courageous women united by their yes to God’s plan. (See Luke 1:39-56.) It is intended to not only inspire admiration and devotion in us, but to teach us what it means to carry Jesus to the world. Mary set out in haste to be with Elizabeth in her time of need. How vital it is to accompany others on their journey, faithfully walking alongside them amidst the joys, trials, and sufferings of life. Through this companionship—in family, friendship, sisterhood, and discipleship—we convey to others that Jesus is alive; He is truly God with us. Like Mary, we who bear Jesus in our lives are called to magnify Him, to proclaim to all we meet that we have a great and merciful God Who keeps His promises, always provides, and is altogether trustworthy. And like Elizabeth, with gratitude and humility we can rejoice and champion the work of God in and through others. Mother Mary, come be with each of us in our time of need. Teach us how to welcome your Son’s presence in our lives, and imitate your courageous obedience and sacrificial love. Through your example and intercession, help us to joyfully accompany others and be with them in their time of need. [bctt tweet="We who bear Jesus in our lives are called to magnify Him." username="blessedisshe__"] Scroll down to the later verses of Luke 1 and read the commentary by the Church Fathers compiled by Saint Thomas Aquinas in his Catena Aurea. Debra Herbeck, a Jewish convert to the Church, has worked extensively in youth and women’s ministry. She has directed Pine Hills Girls Camp for the past 32 years, is the founder and Director of the Be Love Revolution, and also helps lead a ministry called i.d.916. She has written a number of books that can be found here. Debra and her husband Peter live in Ann Arbor, Michigan and are the parents of four children and six adorable grandchildren.

I was a Navy brat growing up. Our family is one with a long-standing tradition of Naval service, and most of them, including my dad, served on submarines spending the better part of each year at sea. All of my early years were spent with my dad often missing important milestones: birthdays, Christmas and Easter, plays I was a part of, and especially the day-to-day triumphs, sadness, and happenings of my childhood. Being before the age of cell phones and the Internet, our only actual contact was through handwritten letters received when he was docked at ports. My dad, however, in his wisdom and love, spent hours before each deployment making cassette recordings of him reading our favorite bedtime stories. He knew there would be many moments where we missed him and longed to cuddle up and be close to him, so he created a special way to maintain our connection. In his long absences, we were still left with a piece of him: his voice and the shared enjoyment of a story. It’s been forty days since Easter, and the Apostles are rejoicing at having Jesus back amongst them, eagerly anticipating His next move in restoring the kingdom. While they have in mind a physical restoration, Jesus’ plan isn’t to stay on earth. His mission has been completed, and on today’s feast, He ascends back to the heavenly realm finalizing his earthly ministry. But, oh how He loved them, and how that love extended to followers throughout the ages all the way down to us. He left not just a memory but two major parts of Himself: God the Holy Spirit Who descends to dwell with us ten days later on the Feast of Pentecost, and Jesus Himself present to us in the Eucharistic feast. Jesus didn’t abandon us when He ascended into Heaven, but just like the loving Father that He is, He left us tangible connections for each of us to know His love. [bctt tweet="His mission has been completed, and on today’s feast, He ascends back to the heavenly realm finalizing his earthly ministry." username="blessedisshe__"] This section of the Catechism on the Holy Spirit addresses the mysteries of Pentecost. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother to four boys while living in a 200 year old farmhouse. When not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or snagging amazing antique furniture deals. You can find out more about her here.

“When I grow up, I am going to be a missionary to China!” my daughter announced, bouncing up from her schoolwork. I smiled at her, redirecting her back to her seat. Since talking is always more interesting than spelling words, she turned to her younger sister, “I am going to teach people about Jesus, and He said that we don’t have to worry about what to say since the Holy Spirit will give us the words!” (See Matthew 10:19.) I looked again at my shy-in-public eight-year-old and a great hesitancy filled my heart for her as I meditated on her weaknesses. Meanwhile I overlooked her great confidence in His grace. Jesus tells the disciples at the Last Supper: “When he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you in all truth. He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears . . .” (John 16:13). While I have always had a firm faith in the truths revealed to the Church and Christ’s promise to guide His Church, I have often failed to have hope in the Holy Spirit to guide me personally and be with me as I live out my faith. More often than not I worry to myself, What if He doesn’t come? What if I try to do what He asks, and fail? As a perfectionist, I would rather not try at all than fail, so I shrink back in my fainthearted way. Today’s Gospel calls me to a greater trust in His promise to be with me. It reminds me that I do not need to speak on my own but speak what I have heard. I have to renew my hope and seek courage every day to follow God’s will for me as I face fears that try to hold me back. I have to intentionally bear in mind that the Holy Spirit is always with me, nudging me and guiding me. He makes up for my inadequacies, giving me the courage that I lack. All He asks of me is that I do His will, open to His grace. [bctt tweet="I have to intentionally bear in mind that the Holy Spirit is always with me, nudging me and guiding me." username="blessedisshe__"] Have you seen this brilliant Holy Spirit stained-glass window in Saint Peter's Basilica? 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. You can find out more about her here. She is the Theological Editor of both the Catechism Studies and the Mystery Studies.

In my work as a Montessori teacher, the most challenging parts for the children during the school year and individual days were the times of transition. Change can be difficult. But if you take time to prepare the children, to say a few words of what is going to happen, even to practice it before it happens, the transitions can go more smoothly even if they don't fully understand or get it the first time. In today's Gospel, Jesus prepares His Apostles for what is about to happen. They don't fully understand and they are filled with grief, but He is getting them ready for the important transition that will happen soon. He will be physically leaving them and returning to the Father, but He will also be sending His Holy Spirit. Sometimes we may not understand how God is leading us and how He is preparing us through the changes and transitions in our lives. But with the gift of the Spirit we can proclaim with confidence along with the Psalmist: "The LORD will complete what he has done for me; your kindness, O LORD, endures forever" (Psalm 138:8). What a gift that God gives us the Spirit as our Advocate, meaning "one who speaks on our defense." We have One Who comes to our aid, Who speaks on our behalf, Who is our defense. Even if we don't fully understand what God is doing in our lives, if we are in pain or grief or challenge, the Spirit is our Comforter and guide throughout these changes and transitions and all the times that maybe do not yet fully make sense to us right now. Come, Holy Spirit. Prepare our hearts. Make us ready to leave behind all that does not serve us and bring us back to the Father. Thank You, Jesus, for preparing us and sending us Your Spirit. May we, as Your children, listen and be attentive to follow Your voice as we let go, accept, and bravely move into new spaces of life and freedom in You. [bctt tweet="Even if we don't fully understand what God is doing in our lives, if we are in pain or grief or challenge, the Spirit is our Comforter and guide." username="blessedisshe__"] Looking for a new novena? Pray this one to the Blessed Trinity. Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time writing, making music and learning about life from her experiences of learning to surf. As a life coach, she supports women specifically in times of transition to discover who they truly are and to design their life using their gifts and talents to live fully alive as the person God has created them to be. You can find out more about her here.

As I read today’s First Reading, I was intrigued by the woman Lydia. She was not a Jew, but she was a "worshiper of God” and she “listened and the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what Saint Paul was saying. After, she and her household were baptized” (Acts 16:14-15). I wanted to know more about her, so I referred to a Bible commentary. It said, “It is worth reflecting on the fact that Christianity began in Europe through a housewife’s response to God’s calling. Lydia set about her mission to Christianize the whole world from within, starting with her own family.” (The Navarre Bible: Act of the Apostles Texts and Commentaries.) I find that incredibly inspiring, particularly as a woman. Lydia ran a business selling dyed purple goods, she ran a household, and she worshiped God. God found favor with her and when the Holy Spirit moved in her heart, she was open to hearing God’s words. However, she did more than believe; she immediately started bearing fruit, bringing her household to God, and then serving Paul and his companions. In the New Testament, Jesus speaks of the Counselor Who will come and bear witness to Him. He further says that we “are also witnesses” (John 15:26). Like Lydia, we are not secluded from the world. We are working at our studies, in the workplace, or within our homes. Just as He did 2,000 years ago, the Holy Spirit wants to touch our hearts so we can listen to His promptings and go where He leads us. Sometimes our witness may seem small, such as going through our daily tasks with an attitude of charity. Other times, a bolder witness is required of us and we’ll need to rely on the Holy Spirit for direction and the courage to act. Either way, the Holy Spirit is ready and waiting for our daily, hourly, moment-by-moment “YES” to be His witness. Are we ready? Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of Your love! [bctt tweet="Like Lydia, we are not secluded from the world. We are working at our studies, in the workplace, or within our homes." username="bobbi_rol"] Pray to the Holy Spirit today in this consecration. 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. You can find out more about her here.

Somewhere between a quarter and midlife crisis, in the last year or so I have found my mind often drifting towards the end-of-life things. Maybe it has to do with being in a place where I watch my elders age and my children grow, but I’m acutely aware of my own mortality now more than ever. It’s sparked in me a desire to know my Creator more intimately. In my thirty-five years on earth, my prayer has morphed from childish petition to basking in the warmth and wonder of my God. I don’t journal and read a minimal number of pages of a devotional, and instead find myself asking Him to just be here with me now. Jesus promises us this very thing in today’s Gospel. If we love Him, He will come and make His dwelling within us. It’s just a small taste of Heaven. God resides in our hearts, this side of death, with the promise that we will reside in Him on the other side. It’s a mysterious transition that I cannot fully wrap my mind around. The very thought of that heavenly reunion with the Lover of my soul stirs in me a desire and willingness to approach this earthly life’s trials with a deep, deep joy, and peace. I know that can only come from the Holy Spirit, a promise Jesus made to us before He ascended into Heaven. Because of this, I know when I am constantly distressed, frustrated, and irritable, it’s usually because I’ve distanced myself from that source of peace and joy. Through regular Confession and prayer, I can allow myself to access that freely-given grace He extends to all of His children. [bctt tweet="If we love Him, He will come and make His dwelling within us." username="jacquiskemp"] Have you heard of the Practice of the Presence of God? Download this pamphlet on being present to God at all times, finding Him in the every day. 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.

Much of my prayer time lately has revolved around what it means to be interested in following Jesus versus what it means to be committed to following Jesus. And what is coming to light is this: it is not enough to simply be interested in following Jesus. Jesus asks that we commit to Him. That we follow Him. That we live our lives as He lived His. And when we commit to living as He did, we encounter and endure much of the same pain, hardship, and difficulty that He did, too. The Gospel today prompts me to reflect even further: how far am I willing to go in my commitment to Jesus? How much am I willing to bear for the sake of His name? How uncomfortable am I willing to become so that He may be glorified? For many of us, persecution will not come in a life-or-death situation, but instead, in the day-to-day ordinary moments of our lives. Maybe it’s standing up for a person in class that always gets picked on. Maybe it’s saying something in the staff lunch room when the gossip picks up. Maybe it’s making the Sign of the Cross in front of people we don’t know when we’re out to dinner. Maybe it’s reminding a friend of her inherit worth, dignity, and value. Maybe we are uncomfortable, but so was He. It’s so easy to take interest in following Jesus. But it’s so hard to actually commit to the way we are called to live: “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you . . ." (John 15:20). I no longer want to be surprised when my commitment to Him and His way makes me uncomfortable. I no longer want to fall into only being interested in following Him when things get tough. And sisters, what’s more is this: we were not made for comfort, but for greatness. Let’s live wholeheartedly committed today. [bctt tweet="Jesus asks that we commit to Him." username="blessedisshe__"] Have you made a Marian consecration? It's a distinct way to grow closer to your commitment to Our Lord. Read more about it on our blog. 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. Find out more about her here.

I have a simple, hand-painted wooden sign that hangs above the table in my kitchen. It is robin's egg blue with curvy white lettering that reads, "Love God. Love People." It is a reminder to me of the greatest commandment of Jesus, but also what I want my life to be defined by. The words in today's Gospel remind me of that sign hanging in my apartment. "Love one another as I love you," Jesus whispers. "There is no greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15:12-13). The greatest definition of love I have come across is that love, real love, wills the good of the other. Simple, direct, and to the point. We know what real love is when we look upon the crucified body of Jesus hanging on the Cross. So when He tells us to love as He did, He is calling us to "will" (or want) the good of the other as He did for us. To do this in daily life is selfless; it is a self-sacrificing love. What would it look like to "will" the good of the other across the spectrum of our lives: workplace, marriage, friendship, dating relationship, friends, foes, or even for strangers? The type of love Jesus speaks about today is radical and different. If we desire to become more like Jesus in our thoughts, words, and actions, then let us really live a life of love that truly wills the good of others in our normal, everyday life. [bctt tweet="We know what real love is when we look upon the crucified body of Jesus hanging on the Cross." username="amoderngrace"] This summary of the papal encyclical Deus Caritas Est is brief but comprehensive. Patty Breen is a full-time lay minister who finds joy in running, strong cups of coffee, and all things Ignatian spirituality. A Midwestern gal from the mitten state, she is constantly learning to find grace in all things. She is passionate about ministry, writing, a great lipstick color, and smiling is her favorite. Find out more about her here.

A few months ago, my guardian angel bracelet sparked a conversation with a woman on my flight who was particularly curious about the relationship between my life as a student and my life as a Catholic. When asked about my career aspirations, I shared my dreams to work in national security, but she seemed rather disappointed in my response. She conveyed to me that she did not feel it was a calling fitting of a “good Catholic.” I am not sure why it left me feeling so inadequate. Sure, I smiled and nodded, but could not help but feel disappointed that she felt that my hopes did not amount to something worthy, or that my dreams could not be deemed a “calling.” I continue to return to today’s Gospel when I have come to the end of my plans. An enduring declaration of Christ’s heart for us, I am stretched by its simplicity, as it exposes the places where I allow what He is asking of me day-to-day to be complicated. I begin to spiral into doubts over whether my hopes are really worthy. My crisis of mission leads me to a cycle of self-seeking and of striving to earn a love that I already have. Yet, I am gently reminded that He has never asked me to do those things. He asks me to remain in His love. (See John 15:9.) In this reality, the exaggerated anxieties about what I am called to fall away, as I remember I was made by Love and for Love. I am extended the heart of a generous Father, and He asks not that I fight or earn my way to Love, but shift my posture so that I may remain in It. I am not asked to shape my own worth or create an image that I am a “good Catholic,” but allow Him to complete my joy. I walk in the freedom that He dreams far bigger than I do, so much so that He desires me to share in His own joy. [bctt tweet="He asks me to remain in His love." username="blessedisshe__"] These spiritual exercises offer insights into how to receive God's love and love as He does. Sarah Elizabeth is a politics pre-law major at the Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. Born and raised in Arizona, she finds great joy in mountains, lattes, American history, and the piano. She is constantly discovering Christ's wild love in the little things.

Today is the feast of Saint Rita of Cascia, the patron Saint of impossible causes alongside our buddy, Saint Jude. And the Good Lord knows we all have about one thousand impossible causes in our lives. More specifically, Saint Rita is the patron Saint of victims of abuse, troubled marriages, sterility, widows, loneliness, parenthood, and the sick. Take your pick. The life of Saint Rita is fascinating, heartbreaking, and glorious. Saints like Rita remind us that, with God, nothing is impossible. In fact, her life witnesses that without God, nothing of substance is possible: "Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). Rita bore fruit in her soul and in her life because of her great reliance on God. In the midst of an unhappy marriage, abuse, immense loss, feuds, rejection, and illness, she clung to the Vine. Her hope was unshakable because it was rooted in Christ. Now she enjoys great glory in Heaven, and she’s tasked with intercession for all of us who are facing impossible circumstances. Personally, I have prayed the Saint Rita novena several times, and she never lets me down. Through Jesus, she pulls off the impossible. But more than that, praying for her intercession leads my heart to a greater surrender to the will of God. Studying her life leads me to greater love of Him. Bringing my impossible causes to Jesus through her prayers encourages me to cling to Him more. What are the literally impossible causes in your life or the lives of those you love? Where have you lost hope? Tell Jesus and Saint Rita about them, and renew your hope in the One Who brings life and bears fruit. [bctt tweet="Her hope was unshakable because it was rooted in Christ." username="to_the_heights"] Look at this beautiful stained-glass window at the national shrine to Saint Rita. Olivia Spears lives in Kentucky where the 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. You can find out more about her here.

Lately, it feels like I have been living in a storm. I am the parent of a child with special health needs and, for the first time since he was born six years ago, the stress of it has become too much. My weeks are filled with a constant underlying anxiety, punctuated by days where it becomes debilitating. I have tried so many different things to alleviate my anxiety, and while I have found some relief, this cross has not been taken from me. Sometimes I wonder if my heart will ever know peace again. “Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” (John 14:27). The idea that the peace that Jesus gives is different from the peace that the world has to offer is not new to me, but lately it has been more of a challenge for me to believe it. Daily I need to remind myself that I have the peace of Christ even though my life is chaotic. I have the peace of Christ even though my child is in the hospital. I have the peace of Christ even though the future is uncertain. I have the peace of Christ even though I feel anxious. I have peace, not because I feel it, but because Jesus said He would give it, and I choose to believe His words. In time there will be an end to my present afflictions, but until then I keep coming back to His promise of peace, rooted like a mighty oak tree in the middle of my stormy life. [bctt tweet="I have the peace of Christ even though my life is chaotic. " username="blessedisshe__"] This mighty Saint wrote on the definition of peace in article three and it is both illuminating and comforting. 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. You can find out more about her here.

I sit in the chapel and come undone, my small form huddled before the God of the Universe. I’m physically exhausted from chronic illness attacks. I’m cradling deep wounds, fighting to recall my true worth after time spent with seemingly accomplished, put-together women. I’m desperate for a breather, knowing that as soon as I step out the door, my mission and vocation will resume their demands. The Lord gently points out the enemy’s tricks, as old as time. He shows me my mission is just as vital as that of Saints Paul and Barnabas in today's reading from Acts. Satan will attack my physical comfort. If I press on, he'll go for my pride, whispering lies of my identity, entreating me with glory for my actions. If, like these great Apostles, I can resist and point to the Lord, the enemy will then hold out despair, hissing, “You’re too weak to manage all of this. You can’t make a difference. You’re so ordinary, insignificant.” But my God makes me extraordinary. He says that with Him, I can. I might be beaten down—mentally, emotionally, physically—but for once, instead of hiding or trying to “fix” it myself, here I am, handing it to the Lord with brutal honesty, asking in exchange for more of His truth to fight the lies, more of His strength in my weakness. As I brace myself to head back into the world and persevere in His mission, I draw my hand across my body—top to bottom, left to right—and a vision swims into view: the lines of the cross illuminated like a firefly in the night. Light extends to connect each point of the cross, and as I tentatively reach out to embrace it, I see that this shining cross is actually a great shield. This cross, His cross that we take up—in reality, a shield! He is our living shield, here to protect and strengthen us against every attack and temptation. Yes—in every battle, Mighty God goes before us. Not for our glory, but for His. Not to expend us, but to save us. Not defeatist, but always, to eternity, victorious. [bctt tweet="My God makes me extraordinary." username="PosImperfect"] Encounter Our Lord in this spiritual warfare prayer today. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. She is the Stories Manager for the Blessed is She Instagram account. She’s a bibliophile, tea drinker, sleep lover, and avid admirer of Colorado’s great outdoors. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.