“Not today, Satan!” “Get behind me, Satan!” These have become popular phrases proclaimed by many Christians. But when we are run down, going through personal storms, repeatedly hearing fear and hatred from the culture, and allow comparison, negativity, and control to dominate our thoughts, we aren’t opening the door to God. We are opening a window to another visitor. When I read today’s readings, I’m reminded of two things: 1) we are made in the image and likeness of God and 2) Christ is the Messiah. These two truths profoundly opened the eyes of Noah and the Apostles. For Noah, a covenant was created between God and man. (See Genesis 9:9.) For the Apostles, they were beginning to understand the sacrifice Christ would endure and how quickly human fears and thoughts can control actions. (See Mark 8:33.) We are much the same, trusting in our own strength instead of that of God. We understand the covenant God made with us and the sacrifice Christ endured for our salvation. Yet still we allow Satan to twist the truth of love God established from the beginning. Do you want to know how to dismiss the voice of the evil one? Ask yourself these three questions: 1) Does the voice summon fear or anxiety? It’s not God! God’s voice will bring peace. Dom Lorenzo Scupoli, whom Saint Francis de Sales admired, wrote: “The enemy detests this peace. For he knows that this is the place where the spirit of God dwells, and that God now desires to accomplish great things in us” (Spiritual Combat, XXV). 2) Does the voice pull you from God’s Commandments? Guess again, as that would not be God’s voice! Do an examination of conscience to recognize the ways Satan is tempting you away from your relationship with the Lord. 3) Does the voice invoke comparison, covetousness, or sin? The accuser is on the megaphone this time, sister. Run to Confession! The Holy Spirit, the Advocate, wants to remind you that from the beginning you were made in the image and likeness of God. The next time you hear Satan whispering, remember to throw yourself into God’s loving arms, for as Dom. Lorenzo Scupoli said, “There is nothing of greater efficacy in obtaining the assistance of heaven than placing complete confidence in God” (Spiritual Combat, III). Not today Satan . . . not today! [bctt tweet="The Holy Spirit, the Advocate, wants to remind you that from the beginning you were made in the image and likeness of God." username="SoCalTriciaT"] Did you catch our Examination of Conscience on the blog? It's an easy download, too. Tricia Tembreull is a California girl with a boundless passion for life. After two decades of ministering to teens and youth ministers as a trainer, ministry mentor, and speaker in Catholic youth ministry, Tricia now serves as Campus Minister at USC Caruso Catholic Center. She loves adventure and seeks it everywhere she goes. As an avid foodie, she enjoys testing new recipes out on friends and family, gathering them around the table to encounter Christ in one another and be drawn to the satisfying unity we crave in the Eucharist. You can find out more about her here.

A blind man is led to Jesus. He stands in silent darkness. The crowds beg Jesus to touch him. They have seen the power of His miracles and they come to Him with faith. Jesus decides not to touch the blind man’s eyes for an immediate healing. Jesus touches his hand instead. "He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village" (Mark 8:23). The hand that will be pierced with the nails holds a hand that has felt its way through the darkness. Come, follow Me. I will lead you. Trust Me. I am here with you. Let us walk together. You are safe. The blind man surrenders to Christ’s guidance. They walk into the unknown. They are present to each other. "Putting spittle on his eyes he laid his hands on the man and asked, ‘Do you see anything?’" (Mark 8:23) In a blurry fog, the man looks up at Jesus. He cannot see clearly. There’s a tinge of disappointment and confusion. Why hasn’t Jesus healed him? Why is his healing incomplete? But Jesus is not finished. This healing requires two touches. This healing takes time. Christ’s power is working slowly. Jesus touches him again. Sight comes into focus with pristine clarity. And the blind man is no longer blind. Restoration. Their eyes lock in silent gratitude. The man gazes upon the face of his healer. He never forgets that look of love. He has encountered Jesus. He sees God. This same Jesus desires to encounter you. Your healing might take time. Perhaps your healing needs more than one touch. Today, will you let Him lead you by the hand? [bctt tweet="Your healing might take time. Perhaps your healing needs more than one touch. Today, will you let Him lead you by the hand?" username="blessedisshe__"] This stirring chant of "Tantum Ergo" provides accompanying translation. Do you know the lyrics written by Saint Thomas Aquinas? Rose Coleman is a contemplative in action who delights in all things beautiful. Her adventurous heart has traveled many places—from circumnavigating the globe on a ship during college to some years in the convent as a religious sister. Exuberant from her childhood, she is an elementary school teacher who learns so much from her students. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: Ways to Pray study found here.

“It’ll never happen,” I’d think to myself as the negative test rested firmly in my hand. Because I knew before I could look. That lonely line danced across any sliver of faith I had until it stomped it out completely. It was the same every month, anyway. There was hope and then there was defeat. The cycle repeated and repeated and repeated. Until one day, it didn’t. “It’ll never happen,” I thought as my signature skipped along the offer letters. Because California is too expensive, and our income, too meager. And so we’d move from house to house to house. Until one day, we found home. “It’ll never happen,” I’d say to the dreams that nudged me forward with utmost insistence. But the music kept pumping, and these feet, they just wouldn’t stay still. And so I’d dance for fun, and I’d dance for free. Until one day, I danced myself all the way into a job. We think we're realistic, putting limits on God, aren’t we? But here I am—a wife, a mom, a homeowner, a dancer—to tell you that everything you ever dreamed is possible, that God’s generosity is abundant. And still, I doubt. Still, I look at the five loaves and see limits. Still, I look at the four thousand and think, “how?” (See Mark 8:19.) Sometimes the only way to fully grasp the inexhaustible generosity of God is to look back, to recognize all of the ways He has abundantly provided. So, when your wanting soul is met with doubt, let your past remind you that He provides. Let it envelope you with hope for your future, and let it speak to your heart with the assurance that with God, all things are possible. [bctt tweet="Sometimes the only way to fully grasp the inexhaustible generosity of God is to look back, to recognize all of the ways He has abundantly provided." username="IamBritCal"] This talk on the story of loaves & fishes addresses looking for more. Take a look. Brittany Calavitta is an enthusiastic advocate for a good book, strong coffee, and a hopeful heart. After battling years of infertility, she and her husband welcomed their first child on September 11, 2016. You can find out more about her here.

Nothing fills me with more anxiety than contemplating the eventual adolescence and early adulthood of my five children. I remember my own high school antics and college lunacy with a stomach weighted with dread, knowing that each of my offspring will be invited to make the same choice God held before Cain: "If you do well, you can hold up your head; but if not, sin is a demon lurking at the door: his urge is toward you, yet you can be his master" (Genesis 4:6-7). That's basically my entire efforts at catechesis and character formation, in a nutshell. A kid falls short in some way. You discipline if discipline is called for. You encourage where encouragement is needed. You coach in whatever manner of coaching is appropriate. And you remind this little human person—whom you helped to create and who walks around with your very heart beating inside his body, so deep is your love for him—that the enemy is lurking at the door. That a war is raging for his heart, and will rage on until his last breath. And yet, he can choose to battle sin, and win. This story from Scripture wrecks me as a parent. But it also points me to Jesus, the Obedient Son, the Son Who came to master sin and conquer death. Cain walked in faux freedom and ended up becoming enslaved by the guilt of his choices. But Jesus holds out real freedom, asks us to come, to follow Him, and to battle our demons with the power won for us at the Cross. His mercy is new every morning, and none of us are too far gone to receive His grace. [bctt tweet="Jesus holds out real freedom, asks us to come, to follow Him, and to battle our demons with the power won for us at the Cross." username="jkuebbing"] Have you read "Evangelium Vitae" by Pope Saint John Paul II? Read through Chapter 1 to see his discussion of Cain and Abel. Jenny Uebbing is a wife, mother to five, and the author of the blog Mama Needs Coffee where she writes about sex, marriage, and the Catholic Church. She's a freelance writer, a speaker, and an espresso enthusiast. You can find out more about her here.

Sometimes, poverty doesn’t look like people reaching their hands out asking for a meal. Sometimes, poverty is something that resides deep in the heart. In today’s Gospel, Jesus cautions "woe" to the rich, full, laughing, and praised (see Luke 6:24-27). What’s wrong with having good things in life? Nothing, I suppose, but I imagine that sometimes our focus on comfort and things gets in the way of grace. My family is incredibly comfortable compared to many of those in our nation and world who are poor in the most practical sense. When I sit on my son's bed and say evening prayers together, I am reminded of how fortunate we are. We have a roof over our heads, safe beds to rest in, food in our fridge and pantry, clothing that keeps us warm, and the means to care for our health. With our most basic needs met, I know I should be turning my attention to my interior need for God. When I put my own comforts before this need for God, then yes, woe to me. When I let my pride get the best of me and choose to ignore my own faults, woe to me. When I think I can ride on the tails of a sweet spiritual encounter and not make time to sit with my Lord on a daily basis, then yes, woe to me. Sometimes, poverty looks like being spiritually poor. But there is something freeing in seeing that the hope of happiness is outside of myself. When I can set myself aside and seek Him first, then maybe, blessed am I. When I take on the posture of humility, I can stop thinking about myself and start thinking of others. The Lord has been so very good to me, and I know I am indebted to Him. What a blessed thing to be. [bctt tweet="The Lord has been so very good to me, and I know I am indebted to Him. What a blessed thing to be." username="jacquiskemp"] Re-read the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. 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.

Today marks the due date of my fourth niece. Depending on when this little one actually chooses to arrive, my brother and sister-in-law are either awaiting her birth in great anticipation or have already had face-to-face time with this new human person so generously gifted to them. Her arrival, and the arrival of all of those who come to our families by way of biological birth, adoption, or fostering, give us so much to ponder about our relationship to God. Our First Reading from the Book of Genesis doesn't mince words: Adam and Eve's disobedience has lasting consequences for every human person born after them. (See Genesis 3:14-24.) Like our biblical ancestors, we will struggle in our relationship with God and with one another: We'll think we know better than Him. We'll feel the sting of broken relationships. We'll wrestle with shame, inadequacy, doubt, addiction, jealousy, and pride. My dear niece will no doubt suffer all of these in some capacity over the course of her walk this side of Heaven. No one likes to think of such things amidst the joy of a new baby's arrival, but it's true, isn't it? I find comfort, though, that she is also just as much one of those 4,000 from Saint Mark's Gospel. (See Mark 2:3-8.) She will hunger for Him just as much as they did. His heart, moved with pity for that crowd, will be also be moved for her. And just as He did for them, He will provide for her every need. Even though my own vocation as of yet is not for biological mothering, I carry the weight and excitement of this beautiful new life with me today. This precious girl is in the Garden with us, and I will pray for her today and every day. No matter your vocation, you have a similar calling as a spiritual mother to pray for the little ones in your life. Which child does God wish to entrust to your care today? [bctt tweet="Which child does God wish to entrust to your care today?" username="blessedisshe__"] Doctor Alice von Hildebrand writes on spiritual motherhood and it's stunning. 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. You can find out more about her here.

The movie Titanic came out when I was in the sixth grade, and I was the only one of my friends who was not allowed to watch it. My parents explained in great detail how the content was not appropriate for me; I see now how they were protecting my impressionable eleven-year-old heart. Even so, I learned all the famous lines and could belt out My Heart Will Go On as well as anyone in order to avoid being asked the embarrassing question, "Are you really not allowed to see it?" In the Garden of Eden, God gave a simple command to Adam and Eve. They could eat of any tree except for the tree of knowledge of good and evil. (See Genesis 3:16-17.) They would have learned about good and evil eventually, just not through actually sinning. Instead Satan came along, taunting Eve and twisting God’s commands, asking, Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees in the garden? (See Genesis 3:1.) Eve was filled with an irresistible desire to know good and evil, and like a pre-teen who sneaks and watches a movie she shouldn’t, suddenly knew too-much too-soon and experienced the fear of having disobeyed. My parents did not make rules about movies to cramp my style or ruin my life but for my good. They modeled their care for me off of God’s desire for the good of Adam and Eve. His commands are for our good, even when the world tells us they are too hard and not worth it. He is always working for our good, even when we do not see how things will end up, when things seem hard and bleak, and when doing it our way seems easier. He offers us the grace to resist the temptations that tell us His commands are overbearing and ridiculous. And when we fail, God draws us out of our hiding places and pours His healing love into our wounded hearts as if to say, Nothing you do can keep Me from loving you. Living in His love is our only good. [bctt tweet="His commands are for our good, even when the world tells us they are too hard and not worth it." username="blessedisshe__"] Have you seen this image made by a Trappist Nun in Iowa? It's the Blessed Virgin Mary as the new Eve. 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.

As I stared in the mirror, tears streaming down my face, I hated what I was seeing. There I was, two months postpartum with a milk-stained nursing tank top, stretch pants that seemed to highlight every roll, and stretch marks on my lower stomach that looked like a barcode. I had just brought this beautiful life into the world and got to hold him in my arms; I should be feeling like the luckiest mama. Instead, I was filled with self-loathing and self-consciousness. I would like to think it was the hormonal imbalances of the postpartum period making me so emotional as I stared at my reflection. But truthfully, I’ve had body image issues since puberty, that societal weight on my self-worth at every stage of life. At 13, I was not curvy enough and I didn’t wear the right clothing. At 16, I was too curvy for those hip-hugger jeans I insisted on wearing because everyone else was. At 20, I couldn’t tame my naturally curly hair and battled a hot iron even though I hated it. And at 25 and 27 and 29, I have stared at that flabby belly and bumpy thighs and cursed myself for indulging in my favorite ice cream during my pregnancies. While we can't go back to before the Fall of Adam and Eve, how great was life in the Garden when they found no shame in their naked bodies? (See Genesis 2:25.) I don’t see myself as I should—as a daughter of the King, beautifully made, in exactly the way I should look. I allow those inner critics to take hold when I zoom in on every perceived flaw or unruly hair texture or bumps and rolls. Maybe for you it's not measuring up at work or at school, up to this imaginary standard of achievement where you'd like to derive your worth. Maybe you can't rejoice in a loving relationship because you're sure you're not worthy. But what if instead of picking ourselves apart, in all the habitual ways we do, we remember God made us in His image and likeness? Silence the inner critics that say we aren't enough. Let's appreciate the beautiful existence and body God has gifted us with. [bctt tweet="Silence the inner critics that say we aren't enough." username="Substance_Soul"] Listen to the music of this Doctor of the Church and treasure the body God has given you today. Dr. Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife to Paul, mom to three little ones, and practices dentistry at a public health community center for low income families in the Bay Area, California. She (unashamedly) thinks ice cream is its own food group, loves anything Harry Potter, does not leave the house without wearing sparkly earrings, and is an enthusiastic proponent of the Oxford comma. Find out more about her here.

Here we are, one month and a half into the new year. At the beginning of each year, I picture where I want to be at the end of the year, and then I come up with a checklist to make that happen. The goals for 2019 include adding at least one daily Mass a week and working towards a healthier me. Already, though, I find myself struggling. Why? It’s maybe because I’m approaching it all wrong. Maybe you made similar goals. Perhaps yours are going well or possibly you’ve even rolled your eyes as you pushed them aside, deciding they were just too difficult. Time for a heart check. Because the real question isn't whether it's too difficult, but am I doing this to feel better about myself or for the greater glory of God? It might sound strange to think of eating more vegetables or taking a daily walk as something we do for God, but stay with me. When God warned Adam and Eve not to eat of the Tree of Knowledge (Genesis 2:15-17), He didn’t just hope for rule followers. In today's Gospel (Mark 7:14-23), Jesus reprimands the crowd on their preoccupation with the food laws while letting their hearts slide into disarray. Because it's not just the rules, it's also the heart. In both these stories, God was yearning for their obedience, an obedience borne out of love and trust. What is my intention behind my goals and resolutions? Am I working towards being healthier to honor God with my body and out of respect for who He created me to be, or is it because I care about what others think of me, or I’m unhappy with my post-four-babies body? Do I want to attend Mass more frequently to make me look like a better Catholic or out of a longing to worship God in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass? What about your intention behind all your goals, sister? May we be able to answer honestly: "This is done with joy for the greater glory of God." [bctt tweet="This is done with joy for the greater glory of God." username="blessedisshe__"] Did you catch our blog post on New Years "Un-Resolutions"? Find it here. 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.

I’m a maker by nature. I love to take raw materials or half-baked ideas and bring them fully into existence. When I am watching a movie, you’ll find me knitting. When I am homeschooling my kids, I’m probably doodling alongside them. And there is nothing more satisfying than to place one of my creations into the hands of someone I love. Maybe your thing isn’t crafting in the traditional sense. Perhaps you like to cook tasty food, write thoughtful notes, or plan the perfect outing. However you create, how good does it feel to see another human enjoying the work of your hands? By gifting your creation, you’re entrusting it another person to care for and take pleasure in a part of you. God did that for us. He created us in His image and entrusted us with all of His creation. (See Genesis 1:20-2:4A.) The seas, the land, and the sky are His masterful artistry, and us? His pièce de résistance. By giving us dominion over His creation, He is asking us to delight in His work and protect its sanctity. Today I invite you, sister, to take stock of your relationship with God’s beautiful earth. In what ways are you caring for the gift God has given us? And in what ways can you preserve and guard all that God has given us? How are you finding joy in His creation? The world was not given to us for reckless and mindless use, but instead, we should recognize it as the precious and loving gift of God’s very hands. [bctt tweet="The world was not given to us for reckless and mindless use, but instead, we should recognize it as the precious and loving gift of God’s very hands." username="callherhappy"] Curious about learning more on Catholic teaching on respecting creation? Read what the USCCB has to share. Jenna Hines has a teeny army of four children and is married to a bearded fellow named Mike. They are a homeschooling family who just moved out to the country. Find her books and illustrations in her shop. You can find out more about her here.

Today’s feast might make some of us a bit squirmy. The beautiful feast of Our Lady of Lourdes is often marked with meditations on the miraculous healing accomplished by Christ, particularly through the intercession of His kind mother in this place and under this title. That’s all well-and-good, but maybe you’ve been waiting for your own healing and find yourself . . . still waiting. I’ve experienced the kind of healing talked about in today’s Gospel. Through prayer and by the grace of God, I’ve been instantly healed of carpal tunnel, a shattered heart post-break up, and certain attachments to sin. I’ve watched my friend regain her sight, another walk away from crutches, and yet another released from decades-long anger toward her father. Jesus is still working powerful miracles today, and we should be so bold as to ask Him for them. But I’ve also realized that most of Jesus’ healing work is quieter. It’s slower and subtler. It might not look the way we expect. And this is where we can become discouraged. Do you feel like you’ve drawn the short straw when it comes to receiving God’s healing? Are you praying faithfully and taking the practical steps, all to witness everyone else around you overcome their illnesses of body and soul? Do you feel like you’re trying to push through the crowd to touch Jesus’ cloak but can’t quite get there? Sister, you don’t have to keep throwing elbows and hustling your way to the feet of the Savior; He already sees you. He already knows your needs and He sees your desire to be set free from whatever ails you. He desires the same. Even when your world feels like “a formless wasteland and darkness covered the abyss” (Genesis 1:2), the mighty Holy Spirit is sweeping over the waters of your life. Your invitation—your plea—for healing is not ignored. Jesus is on the move. He’s crossing oceans and curing every disease (see Mark 6:53-56) in your life, right now, and He does not grow weary of you or your need for healing. [bctt tweet="Your invitation—your plea—for healing is not ignored. Jesus is on the move." username="to_the_heights"] The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has assembled an incredible document on instructions for prayers for healing. See the prayers here. 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. You can find out more about her here.

There I sat: layers of warm clothing, a sloppy ponytail, a mermaid blanket on my lap, and a sick bucket in my hands. My husband had just tucked in the kids, brought me a cup of ice chips, and stirred the fire. As he sat down to re-start our movie, I told him how grateful I was to have him. His response was that he was not worthy of me. “Babe, look at me right now,” I said. He turned and we both laughed. Food poisoning is not the best look on a woman. I believe that just as my husband sees something so completely lovable and valuable in me—even at times of frumpiness and sickness—God saw something absolutely lovable and valuable in Paul and Peter, even with all their faults and failings. In the Gospel, Saint Peter calls to Jesus, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:8). But Jesus did not turn away, rather He called Peter to a richer life lived more closely with Him. Likewise we have Saint Paul who had so fiercely persecuted Christ and His Church, acknowledging to the Corinthians, “by the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Corinthians 15:10). He doesn’t mean those words as I usually say them: I am what I am, take it or leave it! Paul’s words were not a reflection of himself but of God. He was humbly testifying to the remarkable change God had made in his life. God responds to all of us today as He responded to Paul and Peter. He sees us as so incredibly lovable and valuable, no matter the sin or situation we find ourselves in. He will not depart from us but He will draw us ever closer, transforming us in powerful ways with His grace. [bctt tweet="He will not depart from us but He will draw us ever closer, transforming us in powerful ways with His grace." username="BonnieEngstrom"] Venerable Fulton Sheen shares wisdom on revealed truth over here. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker, and homemaker. She, her husband, and seven children live in central Illinois, and her son’s alleged miraculous healing through the intercession of Venerable Fulton Sheen was submitted to the Vatican for Sheen’s beatification. Bonnie pretends she has a green thumb, bakes a fantastic chocolate chip cookie, loves naps and chai tea, and blogs. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of the Blessed Conversations Mystery: Believe study found here.

I remember when I first looked, really looked, at Psalm 23. It was the day of the 2013 Boston marathon bombings, a day of horrifying carnage and death. Looking for solace, I read this psalm, which I thought I knew well. But one phrase leapt out at me as if I had never seen it before: "Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side With your rod and your staff that give me courage" (Psalm 23:4). I was struck by what the Psalm does not say. It does not say, “With your rod and your staff that protect me.” It doesn’t say, “With your rod and your staff that keep me safe.” It says, “With your rod and your staff that give me courage.” Life is hard. Pain happens. Relationships are snapped through betrayal, illness descends out of nowhere, an eight-year-old standing in just the wrong place is killed by a bomb. And though faith is many things, it isn’t a magic shield that protects us from harm. But, as a priest friend of mine once said, “God doesn’t promise you a pain-free life, but He does promise you a meaningful one.” I’ve pondered those words so many times. I can’t avoid suffering, but the suffering happens because my life has meaning, because I care about people beyond myself. And in my suffering, God walks with me. He is the steady presence that gives me the courage to keep going. And we can be like God by being present to those who suffer. Maybe we get on a plane to be with them. Maybe we offer to make them dinner. Maybe we send a text each day to let them know we love them. Whatever form it takes, walking with people in pain is one of the most important things we can do. We can’t keep them out of the dark valley, but we can let them know they’re not alone there. With our presence, we can help them find the courage they need to keep on going. [bctt tweet="Whatever form it takes, walking with people in pain is one of the most important things we can do." username="blessedisshe__"] Saint Therese of Lisieux teaches us to make acts of faith while suffering. Have you followed her other advice? Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of Random MOMents of Grace: Experiencing God in the Adventures of Motherhood and Mary and Me: Catholic Women Reflect on the Mother of God. Ginny lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, two boys, and about thirty thousand Legos. You can find out more about her here. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Seven Sacraments found here.

It was a very challenging time for me and I was struggling. I had been hurt deeply by the words and actions of someone whom I loved. A friend sat with me, let me cry a little, and offered some words of encouragement. It was simple straightforward advice that provided me support and focus to keep moving ahead, knowing that in time it was all going to be okay. I feel like the writer of Hebrews is doing something similar in today's First Reading (Hebrews 13:1-8). It provides simple advice and straightforward recommendations. These words give encouragement, strength, and support to help us stay focused along our journey as Christians in the midst of the many challenges of this world. "Let brotherly love continue," the words begin. (See Hebrews 13:1.) Love can continue. Even if we have been hurt, even if we are struggling through serious challenges, even if it feels as though others or the world has failed us, we are encouraged to continue to love. Even if we feel that we are in the midst of so much darkness, we can let love continue. Why? Because God is our light and our salvation. (See Psalm 27.) He is our refuge and our help. He is our Savior Who will never abandon or forget us. We do not need to fear. In the midst of challenge and pain, anger or disappointment, we can do what we need to take care of ourselves. We can do what we need to repair, let go, reconnect, or move on. Anger or hurt or rejection or differences do not need to have the last word. Above all, we can let love continue. Whatever the circumstances and in everything you do, sisters, let God's love continue. [bctt tweet="Whatever the circumstances and in everything you do, sisters, let God's love continue." username="blessedisshe__"] Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI's first encyclical was called "God is Love." Scan or dive deep here. 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 to discover who they truly are and how 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.

When my friend called in tears, after suffering a terrible loss, I felt so sad and broken, as though I had nothing to offer to comfort her. Being thousands of miles away, I couldn’t even race to her side to let her cry on my shoulder. So I listened. I cried. I prayed and told her I’d be there for her, no matter what. God constantly calls me outside of my comfort zone to be present, to love, to walk alongside those I love through all kinds of unknowns. To make the incredibly difficult phone call. To sit up alongside a hurting child, not knowing what do to ease her pain. Also to rejoice with family and friends about miracles happening in their lives. I often feel as though I have almost nothing to offer in these moments. I can’t cure illness or solve relationships. I don’t have poetic words to speak. I can’t predict how my own day will unfold. Yet God calls me anyway, and in having nothing for my daily journey, He supplies all I need. The story in today’s Gospel (Mark 6:7-13) isn’t the first time God called the Apostles to go forth and to take nothing. When He first called them, He asked that they leave everything, to follow Him with nothing. Perhaps God instructed the Twelve to take nothing on the journey so that they would have to fully rely upon Him. Maybe it is the same for me. Every day He calls me, every day He sends me to witness to His love in my relationships. And when I feel like I have nothing much to give, perhaps it's because He knows that if I had more {expertise, tools, you name it} I'd be overconfident and forget to trust in Him. I'd forget to look to Him for the Way. I’d insist that “I’ve got this, God. I’m good.” But I'm not, and I don't have the answers at all. So from my nothing, I call on Him to make up for what I lack, and lean in to His grace to lead me. [bctt tweet="I don't have the answers at all. So from my nothing, I call on Him to make up for what I lack, and lean in to His grace to lead me." username="blessedisshe__"] Comforting the sorrowful is a Spiritual Work of Mercy. Do you know what the other six are? Gina Fensterer is a Colorado native at heart, but the West Coast beach life suits her just fine. She currently lives in small coastal area of California with her husband and six children. She loves the Jesus prayer, coffee at any time of day, homemade salsa, photography, and sleepy toddler snuggles. You can find out more about her here.

A few days ago I heard the most amazing thing while listening to a Catholic podcast that I love. The priest speaking was giving a mediation on the Incarnation and he referred to it as “charming”—more specifically, he said it was what makes Christianity charming—that God Himself became a man. Admittedly, I was taken back by the verbiage he chose. It felt a little crude, a little simple, a little secular even. But the more I pondered it, the more I grew to love his description. The story of the Incarnation is a love story, after all. It is charming, and adorable, and even romantic. The God of all creation came down to be with us, to love us, be known by us, share in our experience, and be broken for us. It is a story of love. In light of this, I was struck by the reaction of the people in today’s Gospel, those who lacked the faith to see Christ as anything more than the man from Nazareth, son of Joseph and of Mary. The oversimplification of Who Jesus is is the impetus of disbelief. After all, our salvation hinges on the reality that He was both God and man, truly. Saint Athanasius spoke it when he wrote: “God was made man that we might be made God” (On the Incarnation of the Word 54,3). It’s a story that never gets old. Our God is a God Who came down and became weak—a baby, a toddler, a carpenter’s foster son, just to be near to us and to bring us near to Him. How totally charming, how completely lovable, how irresistible and wild, this Love. [bctt tweet="Our God is a God who came down and became weak—a baby, a toddler, a carpenter’s foster son, just to be near to us and to bring us near to Him." username="blessedisshe__"] Saint John Chrysostom offers a reflection on God's love and our own here. Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 8 smallish kids. She loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. You can find out more about her here.

We all need deeper healing through the power of Jesus, but sometimes we're not aware as to how badly we need it. After my divorce, my heart was illuminated to the ways I needed healing: wounds and insecurities from childhood, trauma, and issues around trusting men. The neediness for my Divine Healer was made very clear. Like a thirsty puppy dog, I drank up the miracle stories of Jesus in the Gospels, convicted He wanted to do the same things in my own life as He did with countless other men and women. Going through the annulment process sooner rather than later was a part of that healing process for me. Suffering and pain in our lives that is not transformed through Jesus is merely transmitted to other areas. It will follow you around until you let Jesus into those painful spaces to illuminate the darkness and bring His truth. What are those spaces in your heart, relationships, marriages, or past wounds? Jesus gently whispers over a dead little girl, "Talitha koum!" (Mark 5:41) and maybe He included, "Sweet little one wake up, rise up! There is so much more I have for you." And she stands up, whole and completely restored. Jesus wants that same wholeness and restoration for every one us, His daughters. Healing in the name of Jesus is not for a few but for all. Invite Him into those spaces in your heart. Just as He wanted much more for the women in the Gospel today, Jesus wants us to experience more healing in our own lives. Healing is for each of you. And Jesus wants more of it for your life. [bctt tweet="Healing is for each of you. And Jesus wants more of it for your life." username="amoderngrace"] Do you know much about the Saint whose feast day is today? Find out here. 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. You can find out more about her here.