When I say the Alleluia now that Lent is past, and it was gone for what feels like so long, I like to imagine there is a wild wind sweeping down over me. The cold tomb now open, the dead now rise, the dull flame now flickers to life, and I'm reminded again of the power of the Father and the Son in the Resurrection, and of the power of the Spirit poured out into the whole Church at Pentecost. The Holy Spirit Who once hovered over the waters at the dawn of time, Who spoke through the prophets, Who came to the Church on Pentecost, and Who lives now in me. It's no wonder Saint Stephen could not stop telling the truth of his Savior, and why the crowd felt powerless against it. Acts 6 reads like something had taken over him, and Stephen alone was no longer at the wheel. It's no wonder scared Saint Peter became fearless. It's no wonder Saul, murderer of Christians, became the greatest evangelist of the age. And what of me? What is to become of me? And what of you, sister? The Spirit moves us. It moves. Let the stories of the Saints be ours. [bctt tweet="I'm reminded again of the power of the Resurrection, and of the power of the Spirit. // @blythefike" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of Your love. Send forth Your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth. Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 8 smallish kids. She loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

I pressed my cheek against her soft curls. We were in a hospital bed in the emergency room. My baby girl had a fever and her lips were turning blue from low oxygen levels. I prayed as I watched her small belly rise and fall violently as she struggled for breath. She had a minor virus that had turned serious due to asthma. The doctors were able to get her breathing under control. As we walked out of the hospital the next day wearily shielding our eyes from the bright sun, my heart cried out to the Lord a series of complaints. I have five young children. I have invited others into our home who were in difficult circumstances that I felt called to serve and love. I am weary. The disciples knew weariness as they walked along the road to Emmaus. They had left everything behind to follow Jesus. Jesus was supposed to be the Savior and He had been crucified. They had witnessed demons flee, and the mute speak, and the deaf hear, and the lame walk, and the dead rise, yet, here they were now feeling hopeless. On this road, shadowed by despair and doubt, Jesus joins them. Jesus asks what they are talking about and they tell Him. Jesus, in His mercy, points them to His Word. Jesus says, “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Jesus opens the Scriptures to them, and although they are kept from recognizing Him, their hearts burn within them. They finally recognize Him in the breaking of the bread, in communion. We are all the disciples on the road to Emmaus. We struggle with doubt that God is Who He says He is. Doubt that He is with us, that He can heal us, that He can restore us. However in His Word we are reminded of His promises. And His Presence, veiled in mystery, satisfies our burning hearts. May we proclaim, "The Lord has truly been raised!" (Luke 24:34) [bctt tweet="We are all the disciples on the road to Emmaus. // Leana Bowler" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion If you were not able to make our "Restore" retreat in person, consider watching the livestream. Leana Bowler is a wife and mother of five little ones. She is a Holy Rosary enthusiast with deep devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Her love for the message of Divine Mercy led her to become a Marian Missionary of Divine Mercy dedicated to spreading Marian Consecration and the beauty of Christ's abundant Mercy. She enjoys finding the miracles in the mess of family life, books, strong coffee, and encountering others wherever they're at in this blessed journey to sainthood. You can find out more about her here.

Today we celebrate the Feast of Saint Mark the Evangelist. He was one of the early Christians, and likely knew Jesus in real life. When he was young, he traveled with Saint Paul on his first missionary journey, but at some point he turned around and went back home. He later went on to write the first of the four Gospels. A lot happened to Saint Mark between the time he essentially backpedaled on a mission he had committed to and the time he wrote down the Gospel. While we don’t know most of the details of what happened, we can be assured that a few things did happen. Saint Mark allowed his heart to be converted and strengthened in the Lord. Who hasn't felt the hot sting of embarrassment when they realized they’ve failed? Who hasn’t felt ashamed or discouraged by past mistakes or sins? None of us has a perfect track record. I know how easy it is to dwell on my errors and think, how can God use me? But I also know this, what is stopping God from using me is not my long list of mistakes, but my unwillingness to turn my heart to Him again, and again, and again. Just like Saint Mark needed some time and courage to follow the Lord, I might need that, too. And just as Saint Mark heard the call from Jesus to "go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature" (Mark 16:15), He is calling me, too. Thank goodness for a gentle and patient Father Who is willing to wait for me. [bctt tweet="What is stopping God from using me is not my long list of mistakes, but my unwillingness to turn my heart to Him again. // @jacquiskemp" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion He is waiting for you, too, sister. Open your heart to Him today. 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 called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

My college friend felt jealous that while she'd study for days and only get Bs and Cs, I, while being so seriously sick, would only be able to study for a fraction of that time, and still get As, even after not being well enough to attend most of the classes. I called them “Jesus, I trust in You” tests. From the experience of being so limited in energy and strength from serious and chronic illness, I just had to surrender it all to God, show up, and trust that God would work a miracle, especially so I wouldn’t fail my courses. It felt scary and discouraging to be a student who often didn't even have enough energy to study, or even sometimes be able to make it to class. I felt defeated, inadequate, incompetent, and utterly powerless. But when I surrendered, prayed “Jesus, I trust in You,” and just showed up anyway, God showed up for me every time. And He showed up with abundance. So many times I have wished that I had more to give and more to offer. I have felt that the little I had, my “five loaves and two fish,” couldn’t possibly be enough. But Catholicism is a “five loaves and two fish” kind of faith. We give God the little we have. He blesses it and brings abundance. Over and over and over again. And this is possible for us each day of our lives. What are the “five loaves and two fish” of your life? Perhaps the limitation or weakness you are facing now is an opportunity for God to come with His power. Today, can you show up, handing over what seems to you like hardly enough, and with a “Jesus, I trust in You” prayer in your heart, allow Him to transform what you have into abundance? For me, because of serious illnesses, I almost didn’t graduate from college. But God showed up, and I not only graduated on time, but also with honors. Sit with Him in prayer and bring your little offerings for His transformation today. [bctt tweet="We give God the little we have. He blesses it and brings abundance. // Mary Catherine Craige" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion This priest shares about when we've got little offerings to give the Lord and how that's okay. Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time dancing, writing, playing the Irish harp and surfing the ocean waves of northeast Florida. As a transformational life coach, she supports brave women to create beauty out of challenging circumstances and to live a life of abundance, freedom and joy as the person God has created them to be. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

I was the only teenager at the table full of well-dressed adults, the youth representative on an important committee to hire a new church music minister. The elegant lady across the table, a regular at the country club where we were dining, leaned conspiratorially toward me and urged me to order the peppermint ice cream for dessert. "You’ll never look back," she said. I took her word for it,­ and she was right. It was the creamiest, most delicious ice cream I’d ever had. Since then, I order it every time it is available. Since it’s often a seasonal thing, when the holidays approach, I stalk the grocery store aisle, longing for it to appear in the freezer section. Tasting that ice cream was life-changing. When Saints Peter and the Apostles appear before the Sanhedrin in today’s reading from Acts 5, the high priest confronts them for teaching in Jesus’ name against his prior, strict instructions. Yet Peter and the other Apostles can’t help themselves—they’ve experienced Jesus. They’ve walked with Him, eaten with Him, and seen His miracles. Being with Him has totally transformed their lives. They have to talk about Him. They have to share Him with the world. They are His witnesses, and their mission is to spread the news about Him everywhere they can. Our experience of Christ can be like that, too. What if we take the Psalmist’s invitation to "taste and see how good the Lord is" (Psalm 34:9) and find ourselves in the middle of a life-changing encounter, the most tantalizing experience imaginable? Jesus seeks out each one of us, invites us to come to Him, longs for each one of us to be in relationship with Him. We can talk to Him any time we want. He wants to be with us. The more closely we follow Him, the more we will long for His presence, and the more He will change our hearts to be like His. [bctt tweet="Jesus seeks out each one of us. // @dere_abbey" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Enter into prayer before Our Lord, live-streaming here. 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 at the same time. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up and author of our Blessed Conversations: The Virtues study found here.

Sister, I’m sure you are familiar with the all-too-common question: "How Catholic are you really?" I was once asked this on the first day of a new job by my supervisor. I was once asked on a date to rate how “Catholic” I was on a scale of one to ten. I have even been asked this by perfect strangers, in bars, on airplanes, and even waiting for my latte at a coffee shop. It is a question that sincerely bothers me because, while possibly well-intentioned, it fundamentally misses the point of the Faith. It is a question that assumes when I refer to myself as a Catholic, I have subscribed to a set of tidy rules and conclusions, from which I get to pick and choose. I feel like I am being asked to elaborate on to what extent I buy into a behavior modification system, instead of the deep, saving relationship I have with my loving Creator. When I reflect on the misunderstanding in these interactions, I am reminded of the relevance of today’s Gospel, which is the essence of the Good News we center our lives around. "God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" (John 3:16). God so loved the world that instead of sending a message or an agenda, He sends His only-begotten Son, the One Who fights for us to the end. He sends a Messiah Who loves and restores perfectly, and somehow still desires eternal life with us. Christ the Light Who illuminates all darkness does not want to see you or I perish, even in the depths of our brokenness. Instead of condemnation, He offers redemption, and it changes absolutely everything. The gravity of His invitation invokes my wholehearted response. When asked about what kind of role the Faith plays in my life, I know the only honest answer is that it is all-consuming. I am truly saved by and bound to a Love I do not deserve, but One I will hold forever. [bctt tweet="He offers redemption, and it changes absolutely everything. // Sarah Elizabeth" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Want to talk about the Kerygma? Take a listen to our spiritual director. 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.

"The community of believers was of one heart and mind. . . . With great power the Apostles bore witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus" (Acts 4:32-33). Sister, imagine what we could do together. Today's First Reading is often invoked for its later verses, with its laudable account of the early Christians holding their property in common and having no division within the community. But reading through it with fresh eyes, something different stood out to me this time: "one heart and mind." What would our world look like today, in 2020, if Christians were of one heart and mind, as a community of believers? If the Catholic Church were united in love for our Savior and Bridegroom, Jesus Christ, and renowned for our unity and affection for our fellow brother or sister in the pew? Can you imagine the power? Can you picture the response to a call from our pastors for a campaign of prayer and fasting for a specific issue, when rather than grumblings about why some other issue weren't highlighted or indignant complaints positing our personal position in opposition of This Very Thing, we just . . . agreed. Agreed and then drew together in God's presence—which He intimately promises to us—whenever two or more gather in His Name. Imagine what the people in the Church could do during this time of COVID-19 and be as a united force bearing witness to the Resurrection of the Lord Jesus. Can you think of anything our culture needs more during this challenging time? Can you think of any movement our culture and our world could more profoundly benefit from right now? Me neither. [bctt tweet="Sister, imagine what we could do together. // Jenny Uebbing" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Lord Jesus, by the power of Your Resurrection and the gift of Your sacrifice of love on the Cross, inspire in our hearts a desire and an ability to be truly united to our fellow people. Jenny Uebbing is a wife, mother to six, creator of the NFP community Off the Charts and 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.

I avoid those conversation circles where maybe three out of ten people carry the discussion. I never know when to interject without it being awkward, and often I feel lost and my voice, unnecessary. I don’t consider myself shy—I enjoy meeting new people and socializing in general, but introductions in a group setting have piqued my anxiety for as long as I can remember. In my mind I often rehearse my lines before it’s even near my turn to speak. And then I read passages in the Bible like today’s First Reading from Acts 4:23-31, and I wonder how my introverted self fits into a Gospel mission of being bold. What does boldness require of me? In my head, I know it requires trust in God, but I’m also aware that God created me as who and how I am. Speaking loud and proud just isn’t me, and that's okay. To me, ‘bold’ brings to mind someone who is forthright, always knowing the right thing to say at the right time, standing out from the crowd. While some are gifted with these traits, we can’t all be the bold woman. There's this slight tension as our uniqueness is not accidental, and yet we are each called to evangelize those around us. And there is a boldness that I can possess even as an introvert and ask God to continue to increase. Boldness has come in quiet, little ways: pausing to bless my food while on a business lunch, sharing with the check-out lady at the grocery store about Sunday Mass when she asks what my weekend plans are, or sharing with a friend something I read in my prayer time. Yes, I might still find myself in awkward conversations. But when it’s time to go deep, I choose to be courageous and assured in what I know to be true. I can have confidence that I know the Truth, I’ve seen the Way, and I follow the Life. In my everyday interactions with those around me, I can open or shut doors to the Gospel by my words and my actions. [bctt tweet="I can have confidence that I know the Truth, I’ve seen the Way, and I follow the Life. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Let's ask God for the courage to keep the doors flung wide open! 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.

In my imaginative prayer, I was walking through a pine forest. The beams of sunshine were peeking through the branches and warming my face. My fingers brushed the sides of moss-covered trees. I came upon a stream with the inviting sounds of trickling water over sun-baked stones. A whisper in my heart told me to lay down in the stream and allow the waters to wash over me. I laid down and floated atop the cool water. The gentle current washed over my ears, my eyes, my hair, my toes. I felt the warmth of the sun envelop me, and the most profound peace filled my soul. When I opened my eyes, no longer was I in the cradling arms of the stream, but in the strong and perfect embrace of Jesus. He gazed deep into my eyes. He used the hem of His robe to dab dry my face. In His gaze, He poured into my soul the greatest love I have ever felt. With every passing second, He showed me that everything He has ever done and said was for me and for His abundant love of me. He held my body and my heart close to Himself. He poured His Mercy out to me, His beloved. His fingers gently touched my face and He beamed at me. This is the Divine Mercy of Jesus. He pours out His graces on each one of us. [bctt tweet="In His gaze, He poured into my soul the greatest love I have ever felt. // @Substance_Soul" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion On Divine Mercy Sunday, take some time to acquaint yourself with Saint Faustina and dip into her diary if you can. 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, does not leave the house without wearing sparkly earrings, and is an enthusiastic proponent of the Oxford comma. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. Find out more about her here.

It was one of the last days of spring. The Mission District’s streets were warm from the bright sun but breezy. Inside the shaded coolness of the writing center, groups of ESL students worked with volunteers in hushed voices. It was the internship of my college-self’s dreams, and I sat typing at a computer when I heard one of the tutors say, “What’s a bumpkin? Um . . . Bonnie! Bonnie’s a bumpkin!” “Excuse me?!” I laughed while trying to hide how insulted I was. “I am most certainly not a bumpkin!” The volunteer tutor sat by a tween novel-reading ESL student, and they both laughed. The tutor said, “But you’re from a small country town in Illinois. Doesn’t that make you a bumpkin?” I tried to explain that being from a small town in flyover country is brilliant, but those two city-dwellers just couldn’t understand. But at least I was in good company. As we see in today's Gospel, the leaders of the Sanhedrin thought Saints Peter and John were just a couple of country bumpkins, too. And maybe they were! But the boldness of those two uneducated, ordinary men (see Acts 4:13) was enough to scare the elders and scribes who ordered Peter and John to "not speak or teach at all in the Name of Jesus" (Acts 4:18). Yet they refused to be silent, saying it was impossible for them not to speak of what they had lived (see Acts 4:20). Not only were they compelled to speak based on their own experiences with the Lord, but He had commissioned them to spread the Gospel in Mark 16:15. They did not allow themselves to be held back by where they came from, what they lacked in skill or talent, or really, anything else. They were who God wanted them to be—bumpkins and all—and they were going to be who He created them to be. They cooperated with His grace and got the job done. [bctt tweet="They were who God wanted them to be. // @BonnieEngstrom" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion We access a greater sense of who God created us to be when we're practicing growing in virtue. Brush up on the virtues with a quick look over here. 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. You can find out more about her here.

There was a line in today's Gospel that stood out to me. Simon Peter drags the net ashore, full of one hundred and fifty-three large fish and "though there were so many, the net was not torn" (John 21:11). I wondered, Why did they include this detail? What's so special about that? Why does this matter? It makes sense that this was surprising considering how many fish they caught, but I really wondered if there was more to it than that. For example, could it mean that when we're carrying the load that God intended for us that He'll give us strength, too? I could use that. Could it mean that we will ultimately reach the states in our vocation we are pursuing—that we just need to put ourselves out there and follow His lead, and He'll come through? I could use that too. Or am I looking for something that's not there with this? I don't know, but I know that Jesus wants us to ponder these things. He wants us to listen to His voice about where to fish—I mean, grocery shop—or to consider His will about how we spend our time or our energy. Even the most mundane tasks are places where we can consider His voice and how He's calling us to think, to act, to speak. And I think He also wants us to know that He may surprise us. [bctt tweet="He may surprise us. // @praymorenovenas" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Have you heard the sermons from our Blessed is She live-streamed Masses? Annie Deddens is a writer and producer. She runs a prayer ministry with her husband, called Pray More Novenas. She has a heart for the sick & suffering, and she writes about living with greater faith (hope & love, too) in this imperfect world as a Catholic wife. You can find out more about her here.

“Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts?” (Luke 24:38) In my heart, I share with the Lord: Because I’ve been hurt before, Lord. I want to trust You and to trust that Your words are true, good, and sure; but I’m afraid. I believe in the Bible, I go to Mass faithfully and participate in the Sacraments, and I even volunteer my time in a multitude of ministries; but sometimes my life doesn’t go as planned and I don’t hear Your voice, or see You, or feel You. Jesus, to be honest there are even times where I’ve felt abandoned by You. I know that’s not the case but it still feels that way. And then there are times when I am so deep in sin that I don’t want You to see me. I know that those are the times when I need You the most, but I’m so embarrassed by what I have done. Lord, I believe in the resurrection and that You make all things new. How do I know that You are with me, forgive me, and have a purpose for my life? “Thus it is written that the Messiah would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for the forgiveness of sins, will be preached in His name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” (Luke 24:46-47) Yes, I have witnessed Your goodness, but oftentimes forget it when life becomes cumbersome. Out of love for me, You defeated death to reconcile me to the Father and have placed on my heart the mission of revealing this truth to others. Please give me steadfast faith to believe in the crucifixion for the forgiveness of sins and to live in the hope of Your resurrection and heavenly glory. Thank You, Jesus, for loving me unconditionally and for giving me the grace to love You in return. [bctt tweet="Lord, I believe in the resurrection and that You make all things new. // @chikasworld" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion In these times when so many of us can't go to Mass or receive the Sacraments, learn to make a spiritual communion. Chika Anyanwu is a Catholic evangelist based in Southern California and is also the author of My Encounter: How I Met Jesus In Prayer. She has a deep love for Jesus, loves her beautiful Nigerian family, and is a firm believer that if coffee is good, there’s no need for cream or sugar. Find out more here.

Then they said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning [within us] while he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us?" (Luke 24:32) My five year old got so close I could see the veins popping in his eyeballs and announced, "Did you know the Nile flows south to north, and it floods the delta plain every year so that the crops are abundant? My CD told me that." I nodded solemnly and adjust my pillow over my face to resume napping. "MAMA! The soil is fertile!" Sounds great, buddy, yup, I know. JESUS ALREADY KNEW. These buddies in today's Gospel are burgeoning with the news of this prophet who everyone thought was the redeemer but it's been three days so, you know, who knows. And in His time, after listening to them bumble along with the "news," Jesus reveals that the suffering came before the glory. He explains the real news of every prophecy being fulfilled, and then reveals His very Self before vanishing. My life is filled with repeat non-news. When I want news, when I want real, life-changing news, I just have to open my Bible. I just stare as I read through the Gospels and Acts. I adjust my jaw after seeing all that Jesus says and does (and I wonder at the parts we don't even get to hear about). My eyes bulge a little like those of my five year old while my heart burns within me as Jesus speaks to me, too, when I read His words aloud. If your heart isn't burning at the Good News, at the actual contents of Scripture, then, my sister, read it again. Ask Him to open it for you. Ask and then receive the news He has for you and your life. [bctt tweet="When I want real, life-changing news, I just have to open my Bible. // @wholeparenting" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Did you catch that all of our BiS VBS is on the YouTube? Come and hear how the Lord is working in our lives. Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer-turned-writer and speaker who loves sewing 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.

One of the great blessings of a big family, and a w i d e family in particular, is seeing the unlikely sibling pairings that develop. Since her toddlerhood, my seventh has had a special relationship with her oldest brother, despite—or perhaps because of—their eleven-year-age difference. She’s now six, and he’s seventeen and a senior in high school. She recently whisper confessed to me that while the rest of us have been praying for him to get into college, she hasn’t been because she doesn’t want him to go away. We had to have a chat about how our relationships with the people we love the most change and evolve throughout our lives. We will probably have to let him go, for now, and trust that our love for him will be deepened and transformed as it moves to another phase. It’s not quite the same situation, of course, but it’s what I think of when I read what Jesus is saying to Saint Mary Magdalene in today’s Gospel. She can’t hold on to Him as her friend and teacher. She needs to let go of Him as a Man so she can embrace Him as God. She can’t get caught up in her expectations for the moment and for her life, because Jesus has a new and different love for her to experience. And an important job for her to do. Willing to trust Jesus, Mary Magdalene becomes the Apostle to the Apostles. She is the one tasked with sharing the Good News of Christ’s Resurrection with His closest companions. What a beautiful privilege and responsibility. I think Mary Magdalene would tell my daughter—and all of us—to let go a little and trust that God’s plan for us is bigger than the one we can imagine for ourselves. [bctt tweet="Jesus has a new and different love. // @kendra_tierney" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Revisit this moment in this stunning fresco. Kendra Tierney is a forty-three-year-old mother of ten and wife of one living in and working on a big old fixer-upper house in Los Angeles. She's a homeschooler and a regular schooler and is relishing the new freedom from carpooling that's come with a sixteen-year-old in the house. Her book, The Catholic All Year Compendium, Liturgical Living for Real Life is here. You can find her first book, A Little Book About Confession, here, her blog here, and her word art here. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia.

"[F]earful yet overjoyed . . . " (Matthew 28:8). The Gospel today tells us that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away from the tomb "fearful yet overjoyed" (Matthew 28:8). Have you ever had a time in your life when you were fearful yet overjoyed? When we have a holy calling it can sometimes be both terrifying and joyful. It is wonderful to have a divinely appointed task, but pretty scary as well. When God calls us to something new—maybe a new ministry, a new (hard) friendship, tackling some conflict or a hard conversation, a life transition—it can be really hard, even when it is joyful. I remember being fearful and terrified when I finally selected my graduate school program. Similarly, I was terrified yet joyful about having my first child (and really every child since!). When I starting the parenting podcast, I was petrified. Changes are exciting, but they are hard. They are especially hard when we don’t anticipate them or they catch us by surprise. As earthy beings, we get comfortable in the routine, in the predictable, in the normal. When we are asked to make a change or do something dramatic, it is natural to feel intimidated. It is natural to question or challenge the calling. But when we move along on the path God has placed us upon, it is in that obedient movement where we encounter Jesus. The two Marys ran away from the tomb to announce the news as instructed, and it was in doing so that they met Jesus. He gives each of us the chance to take that path, or to stay where we are, but if we want to meet Him on the journey He places before us, we have to make the choice to get moving. In this Easter season, is there some journey you have felt a nudging in your heart to take? Maybe it is time to take those first steps on the path He has laid before you. Jesus is waiting just around the bend, so do not be afraid. [bctt tweet="Have you ever had a time in your life when you were fearful yet overjoyed? // Dr. MaryRuth Hackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Clear your mind by spending time reading Scripture this week and start fresh with His grace in this Easter season. 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 called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

My friend listened intently as I shared about my health, which had become an increasingly heavy burden. She nodded in empathy and offered a small word of encouragement, one I’ve never forgotten: “Remember that the Cross always leads to Resurrection—at least, when we unite our sufferings to Christ.” We have all carried our fair (or unfair) share of crosses, and we all have been in that place of longing for resurrection—wondering if it will ever come. Sometimes that resurrection is clear as day, filled with joy uncontainable and hallelujahs in the highest. More often, though, resurrection creeps in quietly, almost imperceptibly, with the graduating light of dawn—just as it did on the first Easter. On that glorious morning, resurrection reigned victorious; Christ had unequivocally conquered death. Yet His beloved Apostles and friends had yet to perceive it. Mary Magdalene was cloaked in grief (see John 20:2). The Apostles remained shrouded in fear, confusion, and utter disbelief (see John 20:9). When Christ appeared to them days later, they struggled to grasp the truth of resurrection even as Resurrection Himself stood before them in the risen flesh (see John 20:25). Resurrection is not a miracle of worldly comfort, delivering us from every pain or fear or doubt. Yet for the faithful, it promises and delivers something greater: light in the deepest of darkness, life in the most hopeless, crucified places. Not once did the Apostles’ difficulty in perceiving the reality of Jesus' Resurrection negate its truth. Neither does our lack of perception change the reality that resurrection is truth for us, too—in every moment we cleave to Christ. It’s the truth of our ultimate destination, and it's the truth of every offered cross along the way. Sometimes our resurrection comes slowly, almost imperceptibly, like the dawn. Sometimes it looks different than expected and worldly pain, doubt, and confusion can linger. But today we stand in the irrevocable truth that every cross united to Christ will always, without fail, lead to resurrection. [bctt tweet="Christ had unequivocally conquered death. // @megan_hjelmstad" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Lord Jesus Christ, Risen King of Glory, grace us with eyes of faith on this glorious Easter Day—that we may catch sight of all the life and resurrection You lovingly bring from our every cross. 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 called Rise Up. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.

Silence. The world waits in silence, as it did in the beginning when it was a formless wasteland (see Genesis 1:1). Here, too, I sit silently in the wait. I think back and reflect on this Lenten season and sink into these silent moments. I close my eyes and sit in the silence with Him. Our little girl wakes, I can hear her on her monitor. The silence slips quickly away and my day officially begins. And yet, as I hustle to her side, I am reminded of what He's been teaching me in this Lenten season about silence. Even when my surrounding is fast-paced and leaves little time for rest, the silence can remain when I choose it. He is here, too, in the internal silence I will choose. Daily. In each moment of each hour. My Lenten journey has allowed me to cling to His words that echo: I am here in the ordinary. I am here with you as the external silence becomes loud. I am here with you—choose peace. Come to Me and I will be your resting place. Come to Me, stay with Me in this silence that is My peace. I make my way to our sweet girl and approach our smiley little one in her crib. Resting in the reminders of His words, my thoughts slow and my heart re-calibrates. The subtle anxieties and weariness are covered by His glory. Each moment of this day, I'll choose His peace. I'll choose to wait in silence. Because He has won this victory. And all He asks is that I hand this day and the moments of it over to Him—so that He may turn the silence into rejoicing. Into light and greater love. He is here, too. And has been all along. And I will wait over and over and over again each day to simply embrace the truth that He Who created the world in the beginning has won the victory. He has redeemed His creation. I am never alone. He has crushed death and overcome. And as silence turns to great joy, I will continue to remind myself of this: He is here, too. In the difficulty. In the challenge. In the ordinary. In the joy. He is here, too. [bctt tweet="I'll choose His peace. // Shalini Blubaugh" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Come watch the first of our Easter gatherings today, Holy Saturday, live on our facebook page at 1pm eastern. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their gal pal, Callan, and quite large GSD pup, Sully. She is a stay at home, work from home fitness loving mama who 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.