He sighed from the depth of his spirit and said, "Why does this generation seek a sign? Amen, I say to you, no sign will be given to this generation." (Mark 8:12) I am twenty-three years old. I am kneeling in a church in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I kinda half knelt, half laid on my face. Mass had ended. Everyone else had gone in peace. My face smushed the cold stones. I didn't say it, but I screamed it. Give me a sign, Lord. I am not leaving until I have it. My breakup was fresh, my ex strutting with a new girl on his arm, my upper lip couldn't remain stiff. I demanded a sign my life would still be good; I would somehow be happy; I would make someone a good wife. But even if He had leaned down from that crucifix and whispered to me in no uncertain terms that I was better off this way, that my feeble heart would piece back into a better me, I would have doubted it. I would have searched and searched for ways to stay in my sinkhole. No sign would make me trust in my lovability. It took years to believe it. Years of trying and trying again. Sisters, if you're drowning in lonely hormones, or the new semester is paralyzingly hard, or this new job is going to end in a ball of flames, and you are both asking for and scorning every sign that Jesus is your Lord and Savior, your font of Hope and Love, I've been there. Most of us have. He's not going to force us to believe Him. But He will crawl up that hill to Calvary and sweat blood out of love for you and me. Whether we can hear it or not, we are supremely lovable. Stop asking for a sign and start looking at the signs He has given again and again. [bctt tweet="Whether we can hear it or not, we are supremely lovable."] It's almost Lent. Can you stop thinking you're not worthy of love? If that's a cross for you, turn it over to Our Lord today. He can't wait for you to open your eyes and see His signs. Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer who blogs, sews, and speaks 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 iced chai tea latte in no time flat. Find out more about her here.

This is a strange year for Catholics. This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, the start of the Holy Lenten season. It is also Saint Valentine’s feast day, and although quite secularized these days, it is a day that many of us celebrate as a day of romantic or filial love. Instead of yay, chocolates and flowers and romantic meals it will be yay, fasting and sacrificing and ash. See? Strange. I am a cradle Catholic, so you name it, I’ve “given it up” for Lent. Candy, soda, TV, alcohol, and one year, pastries. (That was a hard one.) But today’s Second Reading prompted me to question, What was I even doing it for? "Brothers and sisters, Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God." (1 Corinthians 10:31) Am I approaching my Lenten sacrifice, almsgiving, and prayer with an attitude of the spirit focused on the glory of God? In ordinary time, is everything I do to glorify the kingdom? This is the perfect time of year to check in with God and prayerfully consider these questions. 1) In everything I do, am I doing it for the glory of God? 2) If I am not, how can I re-frame what I am doing to glorify God? 3) How can I go out of my way to glorify God and His kingdom? Let us pray together: Good Father, teach me how to make every thought, action, and prayer oriented to You and Your glory. Inspire my heart and ignite my soul to turn to You and glorify You in all I do. By the blood of your Son who washes away my sins, Amen. [bctt tweet="Inspire my heart and ignite my soul to turn to You and glorify You in all I do. // @Substance_Soul"] Are your Lenten sacrifices oriented towards glorifying God? Take a few moments and consider whether or not you want to modify some of yours. Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife to Paul, mom to two 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.

Ash Wednesday is approaching. It is a day of unity for many Catholics as we proudly bear our smudged cross throughout the day. We fast, and we shift our mindset towards repentance as we make our specific and individual commitments for the next forty days. What will your Lent look like? I want you to think about your Lent commitments in the backdrop of our Scripture for the day. Today’s Old Testament readings contrasts two kings (Jeroboam and Rehoboam) against one another and their predecessor (King Solomon). King Jeroboam offered the people of Israel a less stringent alternative to worshiping God, whereas King Rehoboam promised a stricter, harder hand in ruling. King Solomon is the balanced and wise one. Are you approaching Lent as a Jeroboam, a Rehoboam, or a Solomon? Lent is a time to reset ourselves, to pare away that which doesn’t matter, and to focus on the important. It is easy to go too far and set unrealistic expectations. Our commitments should draw us closer to our Lord, not lead us to disappointment and frustration, nor lead us into other sin. This Lent I challenge you to be active in your repentance. Join me as I work to stop yelling and fighting, serve with love daily, and be kind to strangers. But whatever you decide, let's all challenge our self-control and invite God’s grace into our areas of struggle. I want to develop the habit of inviting Him into my little sufferings and welcome Him to pour out His Grace in abundance. Let's all work to set some limits this Lent, but not just subtract from our lives. A balanced approach adds to our lives as well. Maybe we take that screen time we are giving up and spend each morning working through our Blessed is She Lent journal or reading the Bible or studying a life of a Saint. I'm praying for us as sisters to be active in our spiritual growth. Let God transform us one moment at a time. [bctt tweet="Let God transform us one moment at a time."] Spend a few minutes in quiet now and ask for some insight as to the best, personal, spiritual equation for this Lent. What are you going to add? What are you going to subtract? Dr. MaryRuth Hackett is Director of Operations for Blessed is She. 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. You can find out more about her here.

I’ve always been bad at keeping secrets. I pretty much never have them, myself, and keeping the secrets of others requires effort and mindfulness. Knowing something that I’m not supposed to tell other people makes me feel upside-down-turtle-awkward. So, while I hope I’d do better than these guys if I were in their situation, I can surely relate. In today’s Gospel, Jesus heals a deaf man, and then makes a request of the onlookers that they completely ignore: “He ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more he ordered them not to, the more they proclaimed it.” (Mark 7:36) There are good reasons why Jesus doesn’t want His miracles publicized in real time. As a practical matter, the crowds of looky-loos wanting to see a miracle man interfere with Jesus’ work of preaching and prayer. After a healed leper didn't heed Jesus' instructions, “It was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places . . . .” (Mark 1:45) He was also trying to avoid a mob who misunderstood His mission and purpose “carry[ing] him off to make him king.” (John 6:15) Jesus did not come to be a nationalistic earthly king. He also knew that the more famous He became, the more jealous those in power would become. Jesus kept the full Truth of His divine identity mostly quiet (despite the bad secret-keepers) until God’s plan of Jesus’ passion and resurrection could be realized over the events of Holy Week. And that’s exactly why we awkward secret-keepers don’t have to worry anymore. With the resurrection, we are witnesses not to just a small piece, but to the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation. Secrecy is no longer needed. Now we can shout from the rooftops how Jesus has healed us, from our own blindnesses and deafnesses and invisible inner leprosies. It’s all too good to keep to ourselves. Whew! [bctt tweet="We are witnesses not to just a small piece, but to the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation. // @kendra_tierney"] Think about one or two ways you can genuinely proclaim appreciation for your healing today. Kendra Tierney is a forty year old mother of nine 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 counting down the days until her oldest turns sixteen and can take over some of the driving! Her new book about living the liturgical year in the home is in the editing process. You can find her first book, A Little Book About Confession, here, her blog here, and her word art here.

Today’s First Reading is sorrowful and yet I can’t stop thinking about it. We read, “King Solomon surpassed all the kings of the earth in riches and wisdom.” (1 Kings 10:23) Then later, “When Solomon was old his wives had turned his heart to strange gods, and his heart was not entirely with the LORD . . . .” (1 Kings 11:4) How can this be? If the wisest King richly blessed by God can fall so far, how much more vigilant must I be? Solomon’s fall wasn’t an overnight occurrence. He was influenced by others, and his heart gradually turned away from God. I admit there are times when I feel that way. I’m living life, and on the outside, it seems like I’m living a good Catholic life but inside I can feel my heart slowly turning away from God. I’ll put more value in comfort, worldly accolades, or my own pleasures. I have a harder time praying. I am more easily bothered by others and my patience runs thin. I think it is a mini version of the Solomon situation. My heart is not entirely with the Lord. I may not be building physical altars to false gods, but God stops being at the center of my heart, and my own desires overshadow Him. Thankfully, when I start to feel this way I know what to do to get on the right track. Get into the confessional. Getting on my knees and asking for God’s forgiveness through the Sacrament of Reconciliation will give me the supernatural grace I need. Get some spiritual spring cleaning done. I need to examine the things around me—the entertainment I enjoy, the places I go, and the friends I hang out with. Are these/they bringing me closer to God or making it harder for me to live an authentically Catholic life? Or am I too busy for Mass, Adoration, or the Rosary but have no problem binge watching my favorite shows on Netflix? Get some Godly girl time. Just as being surrounded by bad influences can bring me down, having holy women around can lift me up and encourage me to live a more faithful life. Whether in real life or an online friendship, we need positive female connection. [bctt tweet="What is at the center of my heart?"] Is there something in your life drawing you away from God? With Lent starting next week, now is the perfect time to do something about it. 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.

Yikes. The end of that Gospel really packs a punch, doesn’t it? Brace yourself, I want to take another look: “From within the man, from his heart, come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly. All these evils come from within and they defile.” (Mark 7:21-23) Evil comes from within us. From our own hearts. Lord, have mercy! That reality is not pleasant or easy to accept. I don’t want any of these evils found anywhere in my heart or in my life. How can we become more holy, Lord? “The mouth of the just murmurs wisdom.” (Psalm 37:30A) Let’s start by examining our words. The words we utter speak volumes about our character, about the state of our hearts. Listen to yourself. What do your words reveal about you? When you speak—or type on social media or in an e-mail, for that matter—what do people hear? Help my words always to point to You and Your loving, merciful character, Lord. “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will act.” (Psalm 37:5) Now let’s take a look at where our faith lies and how our actions reflect that. Do you trust the Lord to act in your life, or do you lean on your own understanding and strength? Lord, deepen my trust in you. Help my unbelief. “Your word, O Lord, is truth: consecrate us in the truth.” (cf John 17:17B, 17A) Amen! Yes, Lord. Is this verse not incredible? God’s word is such a gift to us, sisters. Consecrate us—make us holy, sanctify us—in the truth. Lord, give us the grace to spend time with You in the Word every day. May others say of us: “The law of her God is in her heart, and her steps do not falter.” (cf Psalm 37:31) Increase our desire for You, Jesus. [bctt tweet="God’s word is such a gift to us. // @inendlesssong"] Ash Wednesday is one week away, sisters. Do a heart check with Jesus today. Ask the Lord what He desires you to focus on in the upcoming Lenten season. Elise Howe is a devoted wife, momma, vocal artist and teacher. She currently resides in New York City, though she will always be a Midwestern gal at heart. Elise has a heart for ministry, dark chocolate (but not too dark) and coffee with a generous amount of cream + sugar. Find out more about her here.

Last month, in an effort to spruce up my home for the new year, I joined a list to receive a daily housecleaning task e-mail. As I dutifully vacuumed out the couch and fluffed the cushions, I found a Playmobil sword, a plastic googly eye, a twisty tie, two paperclips, 37 cents, and three dirty tissues. On my way to throw them away, I stepped on some spilled cereal and cleared a forgotten bowl from the table, which reminded me that I hadn’t unloaded the dishwasher yet, and someone had left dirty dishes stacked on the counter instead of putting them in the sink. It feels almost impossible to get ahead of life’s little messes. When things in our homes fall apart with the living of daily life, it’s easy to throw up our hands in frustration. Real life doesn’t often resemble the cover of Better Homes and Gardens. But the impulse to make our homes more beautiful is a holy one. God, who created beauty itself, designed us to appreciate beautiful things. Humans are wired to desire lovely surroundings, because we long to be with God in Heaven, in the courts of the Lord. Today we hear Psalm 84 speak of the yearning of pilgrim Israelites to journey to Jerusalem and be with God in His temple, the very temple built by Solomon as a dwelling place for God on earth. Its splendor was beyond compare. To read the description of the ornate carvings and beautiful metalwork detailed in 1 Kings is to realize that modern buildings are rarely built with such care and thoughtful detail. Our homes are dwelling places for God in a different sense. As domestic churches, our homes are the places where we experience God in community—in our families, together with those who share our table (whether by invitation or because it’s their table, too). We probably can’t make them into temples on the scale of Solomon. But knowing that God intends to dwell with us in our homes, in the midst of our daily lives, inspires me to want to make a few changes—to be more intentional about incorporating beauty into my home, to make things the best they can be . . . and to occasionally vacuum out the couch cushions. [bctt tweet="Our homes are dwelling places for God. // @dere_abbey"] What touch of beauty can you add to your surroundings this week as a reminder of God’s lovely dwelling place and His presence with us, daily, in our lives? 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 muses about imperfect parenting, practicing gratitude, and celebrating the liturgical year with her young family on her blog. In her spare time, she enjoys running, gardening, coffee, and cookbooks, not usually at at the same time. You can find out more about her here.

I don’t know about you, but when I read today's Gospel (Mark 6:53-56), I’m amazed by the faith of the people in the crowd. As soon as they see Jesus, they bolt into action. There’s no hanging back, wondering what friends might think or waiting on someone else’s cue. They want an encounter with Jesus and drop everything to seek Him. So often, self-regard—that is, the constant concern over how we might be perceived—gets in the way of our ability to encounter Jesus. It attempts to limit how God desires to work in us and through us to reach others. I recently learned more about this rampant root sin of "false humility"—really a sneaky sort of pride creating an almost obsessive focus on self. False humility shows up in so many ways: wondering how we look or sound when interacting, censoring a picture from an authentic moment because we’re too busy recoiling at our ‘double chin.’ Feeling like we have to make excuses because we think we’re not measuring up to someone else’s expectations (or what we imagine them to be). In false humility, we analyze ourselves from the outside—gauging the reactions of people we put on pedestals (though they’re still just as human as us) and trying to calculate the perfectly balanced response. The pressure and anxiety false humility creates is unreal. We lose the ability to be fully present in that moment, and therefore lose the chance to both fully encounter and communicate God’s love. On the flip side, real humility is incredibly life-giving—it’s being so invested in conversation you forget to analyze yourself, or appreciating a picture for the experience. Like the faithful in the Gospel, we’re created to chase that encounter with Jesus in the present moment to heal and validate both ourselves and others—running to Him with abandon. Overcoming false humility takes hard work and self-awareness, but it’s possible—and rewarding. It means constantly taking our eyes off of ourselves, and setting our gaze firmly upon Jesus, and it’s not a one-time deal. It’s a continual battle—but one in which the more we fight to keep our focus, the easier it is to keep our eyes on the One who brings freedom, healing, and life. [bctt tweet="Set your gaze firmly upon Jesus. // @PosImperfect"] Pray the Litany of Humility with me today, and spend at least one minute being fully present to someone in front of you. See if it doesn’t turn into more! Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. 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.

“I hate writing; what am I going to ever write in my life?” sounded the groans at the start of second semester in my house. I can relate to my daughter’s struggle. That short essay with a “D” still haunts me; in high school I dreaded writing and rewrites. Never in my wildest—or most boring—dreams did I imagine myself as a writer in my adult life. It’s more that something in my soul needs sharing—I’m simply a messenger. I take inspiration from Saint Paul, who felt compelled to spread the good news, noting “all this I do for the sake of the gospel.” (1 Corinthians 9:23) At my Confirmation, the gifts of the Holy Spirit were increased in my life, and with those gifts came a “special strength of the Holy Spirit to spread and defend the faith by word and action as true witnesses of Christ, to confess the name of Christ boldly, and never to be ashamed of the Cross.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church § 1303). Did I feel any great calling then? No, I honestly didn’t feel different at all. Sisters, I was confirmed in eighth grade, more than two decades ago! How little I knew about the plans the Holy Spirit had in mind for me! Yet even then, God’s purpose for my life was decided and slowly being nurtured in my soul. What I thought was drudgery in my writing classes was one small way the Holy Spirit was preparing me to use this talent to share the Gospel. Each of us has a unique God-given purpose in our lives. Even as we still seek the specific call placed on our hearts, we are all called to praise the Lord and to confess the name of Christ in all things. Praise Him. Spread the good news as you are able. Like Saint Paul and Christ Himself who left His quiet prayer to preach—"for this purpose have I come" (Mark 1:38)—let the Gospel motivate you. Ask the Holy Spirit to increase His gifts in you and to reveal God’s plan for you, so that you may be a witness to the world. [bctt tweet="Each of us has a unique God-given purpose in our lives."] Are you familiar with the gifts of the Holy Spirit? Have you prayed about using your talents to praise God in your daily life? Read more on the gifts here. 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.

“God said, ‘Ask something of me and I will give it to you.’” (1 Kings 3:5) Of all the things to ask for, an understanding heart wouldn’t be the first thing on my list. Honestly, I’m asking God for my vocation more than anything else. Of course I ask God for healing and protection for my family, discernment and help in my work, vision for my life and ministry, kindness and compassion for those I already know and those I meet everyday. And I ask for big things, too. For seemingly impossible dreams and physical healings and gratuitous blessings and worldwide conversion (yes, I pray for that) because I know God’s heart is generous and for me. But still, it’s this one thing that I’m asking for most often. Today’s First Reading, though, is making me reconsider my petitions. The Lord and King Solomon are engaged in an intimate exchange. Solomon was asleep when the Lord visited him in a dream. God wasn’t speaking to him from the heights of His throne in Heaven, bellowing out a decree. He was asking His docile, sleeping friend what he desired most—what he needed. I like to imagine that, like the rest of us, Solomon had a nagging intention he’d voiced to the Lord again and again. But when given what amounts to a blank check from the hand of God, rather than ask for the thing itself, he sought an understanding heart. And this is where I’m stuck. Maybe what I need, more than the thing itself, is an understanding heart. More than a relationship or a job, or a particular outcome, maybe we need an understanding heart to believe that God’s will for our lives today, in this very moment, is for our good. And wouldn’t you know it, the Lord was so delighted with him that He gave Solomon everything else anyway. Just because that’s the kind of God He is. [bctt tweet="Maybe what I need, more than the thing itself, is an understanding heart. // @thebethdavis"] What's on your heart, sister? Can you ask God for more understanding and fewer particulars? Beth Davis is a lover of Jesus, a recently retired youth minister, and the Director of Ministry Advancement for Blessed is She. She is passionate about teaching women how to develop an intimate relationship with Jesus and speaking hope to weary hearts. Her favorite things include being an aunt to her five fantastic niece and nephews, the Saint Name Generator, and whatever book she's currently reading. You can find out more about her here.

Have you ever known anyone who has a great ability to clearly see and recognize things for what they really are? Do you know anyone who has the ability to essentially see when God is present in beauty, truth, goodness or in the people around her? Today we celebrate the feast of the Presentation when the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph presented Baby Jesus in the temple. When Simeon sees Baby Jesus he recognizes Him as the Messiah and praises God for this great gift. I'm wondering how Simeon knew that the baby brought to the temple was Jesus Christ the Messiah. Simeon had probably seen many families and many babies throughout his lifetime come to the temple to perform that same custom and sacrificial offering. What was it about this Child that was different? How did Simeon see and know that this baby was the Christ? Perhaps it was Simeon's deep life in the Spirit that gave him such sight to allow to recognize the presence of God before him. The Holy Spirit had revealed to Simeon that he would not die before seeing the Messiah, and upon beholding Jesus Simeon proclaims, "My eyes have seen your salvation." (Luke 2:30) He knows and proclaims that this baby is Jesus the Savior. I want to be able to see like Simeon and be able to recognize when God is present. I want the Holy Spirit to open my eyes to God's saving power in the beauty, truth and goodness around me. Even in the little ways of daily life such as a phone call from a friend, a beautiful encounter with nature, the presence of a loved one, an encouraging word, a danger averted, or a prayer answered, I want to be able to recognize God's presence. Like Simeon, may the Holy Spirit open our eyes to see and recognize when and how Jesus and the presence of the Holy Family show up in our lives. [bctt tweet="I want the Holy Spirit to open my eyes to God's saving power in the beauty, truth and goodness around me."] Take a few moments to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal Christ to you today. Ask Him to open your heart to encounter His presence. Then, like Simeon, can you share with a friend perhaps one way in which God shows up in your life today? Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time creating art, writing, and playing her Irish harp. She uses her experience as a Montessori teacher and catechist to serve young children through the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. As a life coach, she encourages and challenges women in all walks of life to more deeply discover their purpose and live their full potential. You can find out more about her here.

I always understood how chapels are the most treasured spaces on convent grounds, but I noticed only recently how fifteen years in my religious community has gradually etched this reality on my heart. The other day was like many others. I was praying the Rosary while walking down a small hill toward the burial chapel at our motherhouse in Boston; but when I lifted my eyes, I was startled: the burial chapel looked somehow unfriendly. My reaction was surprising. I looked around and immediately saw the problem: four stumps were in place of towering trees that used to sweetly shade and frame our chapel. It was hard to anticipate how different the chapel would look when our superior had announced workers were to begin a much-needed renovation and expansion. As I continued walking, I told Our Lord of my shock and felt Him ask me to notice how this was symbolic of where my heart was in that moment. I’d been struggling for weeks to accept His answer to a sincere (and significant) prayer. The truth of His answer startled me. He reminded me of how my prayer was one made with surrender to His will and timing. I somehow knew He was going to grant the grace. But when it came, it . . . just looked different than I’d anticipated. So different. Sisters, we can all relate to the people in today's Gospel who were shocked by Our Lord Jesus’ way.(Mark 6:1-6) But let’s ask for grace to not respond as they did, and instead allow God to be God. God’s ways are almost always different—at least, they are from what I expect! But when I pause to genuinely look at His work, I see how He doesn’t prefer to answer prayers with little graces. He wants to dig deeply and is willing to transform the landscape to fulfill the deepest desires of our hearts. Today is a wonderful occasion to celebrate God’s fidelity because we are ending this first month of the new year. Let’s ask the Blessed Mother and Saint John Bosco to pray for us. May we trust in God as our good Father who is willing to surprise us with beauty—if we have the courage to ask for eyes to see reality as it truly is and ourselves as we truly are: blessed. [bctt tweet="He wants to dig deeply and is willing to transform the landscape to fulfill the deepest desires of our hearts."] How is your heart in accepting Jesus' way, not yours? Are you struggling too? Take this struggle to a trusted spiritual advisor or friend. Ask Our Lady to help as well. Sister Maria Kim Bui is a Daughter of Saint Paul, women religious dedicated to evangelization in and through the media. She is originally from Tempe, AZ, spent most of her fourteen years in religious life in the northeast, and is part of a bilingual evangelization team of sisters serving in Texas. Find out more about her here.

To the women who long for love . . . To the women who long to be married . . . To the women who yearn for physical children, but remain barren . . . To the women who held their child, both alive and dead . . . To the women who had an adoption fall through . . . To the women who have miscarried children . . . To the women coping with chronic pain . . . To the women suffering mental illness . . . To the women fighting cancer . . . To the women who experience eating disorders . . . To the women who have been abused . . . To the women who have suffered an abortion . . . To the women who have had to move from a place they love . . . To the women who have left a convent . . . To the women who have left a marriage . . . To the women who have been disappointed . . . To the women who have watched a dream die . . . To the women who are mourning . . . The Father sees your pain and is weeping over you in love. He desires to give you new life. Can you imagine the Father talking earnestly with Jesus? He says, My daughter is at the point of death. Let us lay our hands on her that she may get well and live. (Mark 5:23) And Jesus gazes at you, takes you by the hand, and tenderly puts forth these words, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” (Mark 5:41) How will you respond? Can you arise with courage and walk forward with Him into the new life He is giving? If you can’t quite get up right now, can you invite Him to rest here with you? Jesus is with you and longs for you to be well. Stay with Him and let Him comfort you, remembering His words in Matthew 5:4: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” [bctt tweet="Can you arise with courage and walk forward with Him into the new life He is giving?"] Pray with us for our sisters around the world today in all their different sufferings. 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.

One day I saw a patient for an emergency at community clinic where I serve. He had a swelling in his jaw and was concerned about infection. He was an elderly man who lived in an assistance facility and had not had regular dental care for many years. He explained that he was told years ago that his remaining teeth needed extracting but he never got around to it, something I hear frequently in public health. I listened patiently, I did my examination, diagnosed the infection and dental problem, and recommended a course of treatment. But something had flipped with my patient. He was not pleased that I would not be able to remove his pain right then and there. I apologized and reiterated the plan for his oral health. He became very angry with me and accused me of not caring. He was yelling at me in the middle of the clinic. He wanted care that was outside my scope of practice. He wanted it now. He wanted me to suddenly reverse years of dental problems. I was floored. Never once have I been accused of not caring for my patients. Quite the contrary, I feel called to dental public health for the very reason of wanting to serve my community. But for some reason this accusation strongly affected me. I felt this wave of rage swell from my fingers up to my ears. This voice in the back of my head told me to just walk away and push this angry man off on another provider. Anger and resentment told me, let him be someone else’s problem. But I looked into this man’s face, lined with age and his shoulders hunched with distress, and something changed. I had a second thought. He was still angry. But my heart was different. Lord, rise up and save me. (Psalm 3:7) Often I think the Lord is saving me from enemies out there in the world trying to hurt me, which is true of course. But He also often saves me from the enemy of my own sin. Instead of lashing out, I was able to shield myself from the accusations of apathy and listen to this man. When I actually listened I could see his humanity clearer. He was desperate. He was in pain. I was his hope. I felt the Lord save me from myself. From my own sin and anger. And I am grateful. So grateful. And He will for you, too. [bctt tweet="The Lord will rise up and save you."] Are you feeling attacked in your workplace or in your relationships? How can you turn and ask for help from Christ to see Him in your challenges? Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife to Paul, mom to two 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.

What the onlookers notice most in today’s Gospel is Jesus’ authority over unclean spirits. In His presence, they flee. Christ is our Light. Our demons thrive in darkness. We like to keep our struggles a secret, don’t we? We want to keep them hidden from everyone. We’re embarrassed, or scared, or confused. We’re afraid of how our brokenness or depression or addiction or heartbreak or mistakes might alter others’ opinions of us. So we lock the door to our hearts. We close the windows and dress them with thick drapes. We sit in the corner, motionless and cold. We resign ourselves to paralyzation in the dark. Jesus is there. He’s outside our door, knocking. The knocking is ceaseless. He’s calling our name, inviting us to turn on the light. We hear Him, but will we answer? Let’s not miss an important detail in today’s Gospel. (Mark 1:21-28) The man with an unclean spirit was in the synagogue. Something in him must have known that healing comes from the house of God. He must have accepted that the only way his demons would be destroyed is by bringing them out of the darkness and into the light. This man understood that those who sit in darkness have seen a great light; on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death, light has arisen. (Matthew 4:16). He knew God is this Light who brings life. He was only able to be healed because he was willing to be healed. This man didn’t get in his own way by stubbornly staying at home. He must have grown weary with trying to fix himself. He was willing to bring himself and all his mess before the mercy of God. Sisters, if we emerge from the dark, hidden corners of our hearts—if we turn the doorknob and open the windows—the light of Christ will illuminate that which thrives in darkness. Every nook and cranny will be saturated with grace. Sadness and shame will be soaked in the light of Jesus’ love. [bctt tweet="We hear Him, but will we answer?"] Today, let’s do what it takes to get ourselves to the synagogue, to the presence of Jesus. Let’s open our windows and breathe fresh air. Let’s offer the dust, cobwebs, and debris in our hearts to the mercifully healing light of Christ. Death dwells in darkness, but we are made for life in the Light. 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.

The rain pounded and the wind howled, and all we could do was wait through the night, wondering how the storm might affect our newly acquired property. My family recently moved to a rural farmhouse and although we aren't stranded on a boat, the storms that have hit have been pretty intense. The morning following that first storm we ventured outside to find one of our tall and mighty double-trunked maples half-taken down by the gusts. The storms of life come in much the same way, taking us unawares, and I find my initial response similar to that of the disciples in today's Gospel (Mark 4:35-41): Jesus, do You care? Do You care that I feel abandoned? That I’m scared? That I feel this storm is going to wipe me out completely? Do You care? It turned out that the part of our tree that came down had been dead and diseased, weakening the tree as a whole. The storm actually did the tree a favor by pruning it, removing that part that no longer brought life. Habitual sins, grudges I hold, and wounds that run deep over time blacken parts of my heart. They put a chasm between me and Jesus as I choose to rely on myself. I push them to the side planning to deal with them later, hoping they might just disappear on their own. As I allow my heart to cling to those dead parts, my trust in God declines, or at best stalls. Sometimes it takes a storm to prune away the lifeless bits, to refocus my course on Jesus, so my heart can be strengthened and bring forth life again. Jesus not only cares about our storms, He is with us in the boat. He offers us a safe harbor to hide our hearts within in the midst of our trials and suffering. And through that storm He accompanies our hearts as we let go of the parts that have been deadened by sin. Be still. Allow Him to prune your heart and breathe new life into you. [bctt tweet="Sometimes it takes a storm to prune away the lifeless bits, to refocus my course on Jesus."] Where are you dead inside? Take some time to journal with Scripture today. Sit with these verses and tell your story of the storm. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, and when not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or writing at her blog. You can find out more about her here.

You guys, I think I have a new favorite Scripture verse. Let me explain. In today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches the people in parables, as He commonly did. These allegories capture the imagination and allow His listeners to see themselves in the story. They also communicate deep mysteries about who God is and how He works. They’re also, sometimes, pretty confusing. So it’s this last line that really gets me: But to his own disciples he explained everything in private. (Mark 4:34) Everything?! I want to know everything! Why isn’t “everything” just explained in the Gospel? If Jesus did and said more, why isn’t it all here in His Word? Why doesn’t He just lay it all out up front? The crazy thing is, those questions answer themselves in the very same verse: to His own disciples He explained everything. Only His disciples get to know everything. People who aren’t His disciples yet aren’t ready for it all. It is because He is full of wisdom and mercy that He doesn’t tell us everything before we can bear it, before we can possibly understand it. Because if we were to hear it, we would need to be obedient to it. So if we’re not ready to be obedient, we’re not ready to hear everything. How do we become His disciples? Check out that verse one more time. We spend time with Him—IN PRIVATE. When we pray, we’re doing more than our duty to God. We are building and sustaining a relationship with a living Person. We receive more and more of His love until we become rooted in it, secure in our identity as His beloved daughters. And as we come to know Him for who He really is, we are able to trust Him more. Suddenly obedience isn’t about following rules, it is a natural response to a deep love felt and reciprocated. Discipleship really is a beautiful thing. I’m not promising that all the answers to your questions or your heart’s desires will be revealed in relationship with Jesus. He’s not dangling a carrot on a stick, enticing you to come closer before He spills the goods. Sometimes we will not understand this side of Heaven. But I promise you that Jesus Himself IS the answer. To every question, every pain, every longing. And He explains everything for those who love Him. [bctt tweet="If we’re not ready to be obedient, we’re not ready to hear everything."] Go to the Adoration Chapel. Clasp your Rosary. Pour over Scripture. Get to Mass. Find time for Him. Beth Davis is a lover of Jesus, a recently retired youth minister, and the Director of Ministry Advancement for Blessed is She. She is passionate about teaching women how to develop an intimate relationship with Jesus and speaking hope to weary hearts. Her favorite things include being an aunt to her five fantastic niece and nephews, the Saint Name Generator, and whatever book she's currently reading. You can find out more about her here.