What would you call the opposite of a green thumb?—because I have that. My mom gave me a cute little cactus for my college dorm room freshman year… and I killed it. I attempted to start an herb garden this summer, and those died too. Gardening and I do not mix. We are literally a deadly combination. And so, as I read the Parable of the Sower that Jesus shared in the Gospel today (Mark 4:1-20), I couldn’t help but chuckle. You see, I would be similar to those who needed further explanation from Him about what exactly He was talking about. I’d probably get hung up on irrelevant questions like “how deep is deep enough,” in regards to planting so that roots can grow. I’d have questions about how the thorns choke a seed—does the seed start to take root, or does it just never have a chance? I would be lost. I would get sidetracked. I would miss the point. I would be the reason Jesus had to explain everything all over again in laymen’s (or rather, laywomen’s) terms. (Thank goodness for a patient, merciful God, amiright?) I sometimes need to remind myself that asking questions is not a bad thing. It means I am interested and I am listening. I am genuinely trying to learn and to grow (pun intended). I tell my students that there is no such thing as a stupid question so long as they are honestly looking to learn, and Jesus does the same today. Instead of shaming those seeking clarification, He expands on the parable and works to help them understand. Do not be afraid to ask questions, Sisters. We cannot grow in our understanding of the mystery of God if we do not seek to learn more about what God’s mystery holds. [bctt tweet="We cannot grow in our understanding of the mystery of God if we do not seek to learn more."] Ask Him; beseech Him; talk to Him from your heart today in prayer. Sarah Stanley is a small town Ohio girl who is mildly obsessed with all things Ignatian and is very passionate about faith, social justice, and the intersection of the two. She recently earned her Master of Divinity and now serves as the Director of Christian Service at a high school in New England. When she’s not working, she enjoys contagious laughter, travel, clever puns, and finding the good in all things. You can find out more about her here.

The selection from today’s Gospel is one of my favorites. The story gives us a look into how family is defined by Jesus, while additionally helping us to understand how we should order our lives. I picture Jesus in a home preaching, loving, and mixing with the masses. And then He is told his mother and brothers have arrived. The expectation I supposed is that He would stop and go outside to be with his family. Rather than leaving His circle, He asks them “Who are my mother and my brothers?” and declares that they—the ordinary men and women seating with Him—are in fact His family. He winds it all up saying, “For whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mark 3:35) Jesus isn’t rebuking or disowning His relatives. After all, don't we know that they, too, were doing the will of God? But what Jesus says is that it isn’t the blood relation, it isn’t the hard work of parenting, or the years of a shared household that makes a sisterhood or brotherhood in the eyes of God. It is the hearts united in Him that form new bonds as a family in Christ. It is hands united as we work side by side to complete the will of God. At Blessed is She, we refer to you all as our sisters. It isn’t a term that we use flippantly or as slang for a female friend. We are united through the bonds of Christ, through His pain, His suffering, His Cross, and His redemption. Just as biological brothers share a mother and father, we too share individual and intimate relationships with God the Father and Our Blessed Mother, to whom we are given as adopted daughters. We share an intimacy with Jesus our Christ, our Beloved, as we are each on our own journey to better know Him, love Him, and serve Him. Our bonds of sisterhood aren’t just in this life, but continue into the next. Whatever the circumstances are surrounding your family of origin, know that you have a sisterhood—a family here too, as we are connected in and through our love and service of Christ. Pray today with me for all our brothers and sisters in Christ around the world, that they may have peace and strength to complete the will of God, and that they may know that they are not alone. [bctt tweet="We are united through the bonds of Christ, through His pain, His suffering, His Cross, and His redemption."] Offer a prayer to the Holy Family today, the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph, and Our Lord, in thanksgiving for your relationship with them. 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.

Would you be able to do it? Just drop what you are doing and follow Christ? Simon, Andrew, James, and John were given a great gift of grace to leave their lives and follow Christ in His ministry. (Mark 1:14-20) Most of us are not all called to leave our jobs and homes and follow Christ, but part of being Christian is listening to Him when He does call us to give things up. Sometimes He calls us to watch less TV or use social media less and spend more time in prayer. Sometimes He calls us to give up our favorite food for a time in order to focus on loving Him more. Sometimes He calls to fast regularly to learn how to be more temperate in our whole life. Sometimes He calls us to limit certain friendships that keep us from loving Him. Sometimes He calls us to give up certain habits because we have made idols of them. Sometimes He calls us to sacrifice our time to give to friends and family in need. Are you able to give it all up to follow Him? Saint Paul in the reading from 1 Corinthians tells us that “time is running out”—we need to change the way we act. (1 Corinthians 7:29-31) If our spouse, if our friends, if our sorrows, if our joys, if our material things, or if the world are keeping us from following God, then it is time to reprioritize. All of the good things in our lives are only good if they help us follow and love God. We are supposed to love God most of all, and only these things as much as they help us to love Him. What is keeping you from loving Him today? When Christ says to you today in the Gospel, “Come after me, I will make you a fishers of men,” what is He asking you to abandon? (Mark 1:17) What is keeping you from proclaiming the Gospel with your life? [bctt tweet="Are you able to give it all up to follow Him?"] Take some time to pray with this Gospel today, and ask God how you can strip your life of all that distracts you from Him and bring you closer to Him. 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.

I sank into the car after a long day of work, weary but elated. My military training had ended sooner than expected, and I dialed my husband to share the news. “We got out early,” I announced with a smile. “I’ll be home by dinner!” We chatted happily until he ventured, “So . . . where are you stopping for Mass?” Instead of gratitude for the reminder, I felt myself deflate. Between the unholy hour I’d arisen that morning and the intense workload of weekend training, I’d lost all concept of time. “Oh, right.” I said flatly, bitterness creeping in. “I forgot it was Sunday.” Dragging my exhausted, hungry self to a late-night Mass was the last thing I wanted. “You’ll be glad you went,” he said gently. “Keep telling me that,” I sighed as I re-programmed the GPS. I knew he was right—my soul desperately needed the graces for the coming week. As I drove, I thankfully remembered a bit of wisdom from a friend: sometimes our Sunday mass commitment isn’t just about what we get out of it. Often it’s about how lovingly we sacrifice for Jesus in return. A loving relationship requires more than passive love. It calls for action—choosing to do hard, selfless things out of love for another. To an outsider, such actions may make us seem “out of our minds”—the same accusation hurled at Jesus in today’s Gospel.(Mark 3:20-21) Things like choosing Mass (albeit with encouragement) before food and rest, standing firm in our counter-cultural convictions, and actively seeking God’s will instead of “creating our own destiny” bring bafflement. The world scratches its head when encountering our choices that go against self-interested desires. But, Sisters, this is our call. Sometimes living for Jesus means strangers raise an eyebrow. Friends choose to exclude us. Our own family members reject us. Sometimes it means scornful remarks and judgement-loaded inquiries. Sometimes it means showing up for Jesus when we really don’t feel like it and missing out when we’d rather be part of the crowd. Persecution hurts. It causes real wounds. (Just look at Jesus on the Cross after all He willingly and lovingly did for us). But sacrificing for Jesus consoles His hurting heart, frees others to love Him with the same abandon, and brings us to the same glory He gained following His loving sacrifice—which always leads back to our own fulfillment. [bctt tweet="A loving relationship requires more than passive love. // @PosImperfect"] Don’t be afraid to be outta your mind for Jesus today, sister. You might just be the light someone else needs to find Him. 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 come from a family that really likes names as well as lots of nicknames. Each of us children has at least five nicknames that we can affectionately call one another at any given time, and there is always room as well for new nicknames to be created. When I was a child and my mother was pregnant with my little sister, the book that I read the most during that time was a book of baby names. I spent a lot of time reading the different names, their meanings and origins, and coming up with various name combinations. For each name, I created a different character with a unique personality, which I would write down and group into large families arranged according to birth order. Other times, I would even create lists of various boy and girl names and pretend that I was the teacher of these students in my class. I'm encouraged that Jesus also seems to have an affinity for names. In today's Gospel He calls and names His Apostles. He gives a new name to Simon who will now be called Peter, and He names James and John "the sons of thunder," which seems to be a kind of nickname to describe their personality. Jesus calls them by name "so that they might be with Him." (Mark 3:14) How beautiful that Jesus names His chosen for the primary purpose of being with Him. Secondly, Jesus calls the Apostles in order to send them forth in mission. You, too, have been called by name. Jesus calls you by name and you are His. He personally calls you and invites you to live your true identity in Him. He calls you so that you too might be with Him. You belong to Him and you are a part of God's family. First and foremost, God wants to be with you. Then, in your new identity of belonging, you are sent. Through the unique calling He has given to you, how can you enjoy being with Him as His beloved, called and chosen today? [bctt tweet="You, too, have been called by name. Jesus calls you by name and you are His."] Jesus, may we hear Your voice calling us by name into our true identity in You. May we deeply know that we belong to You and that You desire to be with us. Give us strength and courage as You send us forth to perform your mission in the unique calling You have given each of us. Amen. 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 for business leaders, 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 trust in God; I am not afraid. I have fears. Fears of failing as a wife, as a mother, as a daughter, sister, friend, especially as a Christian. I fear difficult situations that push my comfort levels and demand more of myself than I believe possible. I fear without reason. These fears make me feel spiritually trampled. Under pressure to solve adolescent and marital problems, provide comfort when children are ill, manage all the duties in my 21st century life, I struggle and stumble. As Satan whispers lies filled with anger and disapproval, my soul buckles under the attacks. And then just as the feelings of defeat and unworthiness nearly overcome me, the Holy Spirit gently reminds me that I can choose to trust in God or to succumb to fear and crumble under the weight of my daily crosses. Praying with the words of today’s Psalm and the Gospel over and over, the Holy Spirit whispers to me, Trust in God; do not fear. He shows me that the Son of God Himself is my companion and example. I see Jesus in this story seeking peace and solitude, but finding more and more people seeking Him, to the point of pressing upon Him physically. (Mark 3:9-10) I can relate, with my introverted heart seeking solitude only to be called for by a sick or sad child. Then I imagine Jesus encountering the unclean spirits, and I wonder if He felt fear, frustration, or even anxiety. In those moments, did the Psalms strengthen His soul? I like to think they did, and now I feel that I know Jesus better. He knows what I fear, and He’s telling me, I’ve got this. Trust in Me. So I try again. I repeat the Psalmist’s words, “In God I trust; I shall not fear,” (Psalm 56:4) and a peace settles over my soul. [bctt tweet="I trust in God; I am not afraid."] What do you fear, sister? Leave it with Jesus today, and ask Him to increase your trust. Know that He is with you, and He has rescued you from death. Trust in God, and do not fear. 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.

Yesterday was a bad day. I was up half the night with a sick toddler, and then that same child decided to be up for good at 4:30 am, foiling any attempt of getting in my usual morning prayer time. The sleep deprivation and the rush to get my other kid to school on time had me yelling and fuming in a way that I am ashamed to recall. The rest of the day spiraled down from there. That afternoon, when I finally had a few minutes to myself, I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me to make up my missed prayer time. I read through the readings for the day, but was distracted and tired. I had missed my morning prayer time, the day was already a train wreck, and it was too late to get it back on track. I reached for the TV remote, deciding that prayer time just wasn’t going to happen that day. But then I felt it again, that gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit saying, No, try again. So I turned off the TV, closed my eyes, took a few deep breathes, and invited Jesus into my heart. And He came! He came into my messy living room, into my tiredness, into my day that I thought was too far gone, and filled my heart with the peace it so desperately needed. Isn’t that often how God works? He comes when we don’t expect Him to, and sometimes, when we don’t want Him to. He uses a boy with a slingshot to slay a giant. He heals the man with the withered hand on a day that was culturally inappropriate and in a place where He raised a lot of eyebrows. That’s because Jesus doesn’t want to fit neatly into the times and spaces we have allotted for Him. He wants more for us. He wants to astound us and shatter our expectations of what He’s capable of. But in order for that to happen we have to have hearts that are open. I don’t want Him to be grieved at [my] hardness of heart. (Mark 3:5). I want a heart that is soft and ready to bend to whatever His will for me might be. [bctt tweet="Jesus wants more for us. He wants to astound us."] Anna Coyne is a Saint Paul native, wife, mother, and convert to the Catholic faith. When not chasing after her two young children you can probably find her playing the piano, knitting, tripping over wooden train sets, or writing. Find out more about her here.

Not as man sees does God see, because he sees the appearance, but the Lord looks into the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7) Have you ever felt wholly unwilling to say or do something that was hard? As a teacher of fertility awareness, I often joke that my speciality is TMI (too-much-information). Aside from helping women and couples to understand their God-given fertility, I also strive to help them to grow in their relationships. Consequently, we sometimes talk about deeply personal, really tough stuff, including actions that will either help a relationship to thrive, or (to put it bluntly) to rot. When conversations like these threaten to surface, there is often a tiny, obstinate voice in my heart that says, Why do I have to speak up? I'm no one important. Can't they hear this from someone—anyone!—besides me? Yet somehow, in my Why me? argument with the Lord my heart is softened, I begrudgingly consent to speak up, and I see these couples, time after time, come to a deeper understanding of their call to love. Thanks be to God, He looks beyond my prickliness, melodrama, and hard-heartedness to invite me to share His truths with the world. But it's not just me, Sisters. He sees the weight of your hearts, too, and He desires nothing more than to send His Spirit rushing upon them, just like He did with David. We need not be afraid or to shrink from our weakness. As Pope Saint John Paul the Great reminds us, "We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures. We are the sum of the Father's love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son." (source) Whether with David generations ago, or with us in 2018, Our Father has always been in the business of making the ordinary into something extraordinary. May we learn to see as He sees, and be willing to respond when He calls us. [bctt tweet="He sees the weight of our hearts."] Is God looking into your heart today? How do you think He sees your heart? 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.

It was evening. I was little. My Mom finished dishing up Stove-Top stuffing on my plate. I needed to at least try it. When Mom left the kitchen, I scampered over to the garbage can and dumped it all in. Yes, I was the sassiest in our bunch of three kids. I did what I wanted. When it comes to disobedience, King Saul and I are really not that much different. Israel looked around at powerful nations and desperately wanted their own King. God warned them through the prophet Samuel a king would heavily tax the people and seize their property. It was not the will of God. But the people wanted what they wanted and God gave them their desires. Eventually things went very wrong. King Saul was not the king Israel had hoped for. God makes each of us each with a unique potential and gifting, and we suffer when we do not fulfill this purpose, because our hearts know and secretly long for it. Disobedience towards God is wrong because it thwarts our true purpose. It is only through obedience that we grow into the mission and purpose God has for our life. From the beginning of his reign, King Saul lacked a basic leadership skill: he easily compromised himself. He did not take his call seriously and disobeyed God. Disobedience actually hurts our soul, our relationship to God . . . and we see that as it plays out further in the life of King Saul. Eventually it destroyed him. If we live our own lives in the rebellion of disobedience, it will hurt our own personal relationship with God. It helps me to remember that obedience is not oppression or control by God, but it is actually freedom to become the women God desires us to become! [bctt tweet="Obedience is not oppression, it is freedom to become who God desires us to be! // @amoderngrace"] Are there any areas in your own life you are struggling with obedience to God? Be honest with yourself and lean into that today, sisters. Do not shame yourself. Hold it up to Jesus and repent. Patty Breen is a runner, youth minister ordinaire, and thinks old movies are the greatest thing since sliced bread. When not fundraising for World Youth Day, she is learning to find grace in all things. You can find out more about her here.

Servanthood. In today’s readings we see young, devout followers of great teachers, Samuel, apprentice of Eli, and Andrew, follower of Saint John the Baptist, learn to see past their human mentors and hear the call of the Lord. Both immediately turn their focus to the Lord and offer themselves to follow His call. And we see two humble leaders who know that their job is to train up their faithful followers until it is time to turn them over directly to the Lord’s service. It brings to mind the Blessed Virgin Mary at the Annunciation. The Holy Spirit calls her “full of grace.” Clearly someone had formed and trained Mary in her faith. But she had also been ready to hear and follow the voice of the Spirit when it called to her and her time had come. She opens herself in a posture of servitude to that call, much the way Samuel responded to God’s call when he finally learned to recognize his voice: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1 Samuel 3:10) “I am the humble slave of the Lord, be unto to me according to his word” echoes Mary. (Luke 1:38) “Rabbi,” says Andrew, “Where are you staying?” submitting himself to this teacher he moments later calls the Christ, the Messiah. (John 1:38) Every reading shows us a person who hears God’s voice and immediately responds by offering himself as servant to the Lord’s call. But the first step is learning to hear the voice of the Spirit speak. Saint Paul tells us the Holy Spirit dwells in us as gift, that we are holy temples of His presence. (1 Corinthians 6:19) Are we training our ears in prayer to hear the voice inside that directs us toward God’s call? And are we strengthening our wills in virtue to respond with the heart of a servant when we hear that call? [bctt tweet="The Holy Spirit dwells in us as gift. // @colleencmitch"] Let us look to Samuel, to Andrew, to Mary, for inspiration. And let us look deep inside our own hearts to make ready. For the Lord will undoubtedly call. May we all answer with ready hearts. Colleen Mitchell is a wife, bringer upper of boys, Gospel adventurer, wanna-be saint, author and speaker. She is the author of the award-winning Who Does He Say You Are: Women Transformed by Christ in the Gospels, and the soon to be released When We Were Eve: Uncovering the Woman God Created You to Be. Her latest adventure has taken her from the jungle of Costa Rica where she and her family have served as missionaries for the last six years, to the wilds of a sixth grade classroom in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where she is still living her mission to give everyone she meets just a little Jesus. You can find out more about her here.

Here’s one thing I kind of like about the Pharisees: it’s so easy to feel superior to them. Reading this Gospel, I give myself a smug little high-five because I’d never react that way. Unlike those narrow-minded Pharisees, I absolutely love that Jesus welcomes sinners. (I conveniently overlook the fact that I’m not nearly as good at welcoming everyone as I’d like to think I am.) But when I reflected on the Gospel this time around, I realized that there is one way that I am embarrassingly like the Pharisees. I, too, have grievances and complaints—different from theirs, but complaints just the same. And often, I—like the Pharisees—don’t take those grievances to Jesus himself. Because what leapt out at me this time is that they don’t ask Jesus their question. They ask the disciples. Why don’t they address Jesus directly? Perhaps they are too disgusted at the company He is keeping. Perhaps they are trying to discredit Him among his friends. Or perhaps—just perhaps—they don’t really want to know the answer at all. Perhaps they would rather hang on to their outrage than hear an answer that might, after all, make a surprising amount of sense. And this is where it all starts to feel uncomfortably close to home. Because when little grievances come up in my own life, my first instinct is to take them to other people, not to Jesus Himself. Uncomfortable changes at work? I vent to my mom. That publishing project that isn’t moving as I think it should? I vent to my husband. It’s not that I should stop doing this; the people who love us want to know what’s on our minds. But—embarrassing as it is to admit this—there are many times when I simply don’t take my concerns to Jesus. Maybe it’s because I don’t actually want to hear what Jesus has to say. Maybe it’s because I would rather hold onto my own preconceived ideas of how my little part of the world should work. Maybe the answers Jesus will give are challenging, stretching me in ways I don’t want to be stretched. But Jesus gave the Pharisees a good answer. A great one, in fact. And He’ll give me great answer, too, if I give Him a chance. [bctt tweet="Take your concerns to Jesus."] When you have a complaint or a grievance, how open are you to Jesus’ answer for you? Pray about this. 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.

The first time I saw Frankie I knew she would never want to be my friend. We could not be any more different. Her home was new and big, mine small and dated. Her husband made a lot of money, mine picked up odd jobs to make ends meet. Her kids were not too many and respectably spaced, my gaggle of seven came in nine years. She was thin, pretty, and stylishly dressed, and me, well not so much. If she chatted with me, I assumed she was pretending to make a good show. If she smiled at my family, I just knew that she was really judging us. I dreaded having to speak with her, feeling like such a loser in her presence and firm in my belief that she felt the exact same way. But I also made myself feel better by smugly believing that I was the better Christian. It's gross and embarrassing to even admit that, but it was my one consolation in this reality I had imagined and I clung to it at the time. And then one day she asked to collaborate with me. I was surprised but accepted, because that's what a good Christian would do. As we worked side by side I learned about her life. She gave me a glimpse of her heart and its troubles. She told me about her family and their faith. She told me about her hours of service, loving and supporting people in need. She thanked me for helping her in the most sincere way, and I realized what a judgmental jerk I had been. In that moment I could hear Jesus ask me, as He asked the scribes in today's Gospel, "Why are you thinking such things in your heart?" (Mark 2:8) Just like the scribes, I thought I understood the situation, and just like the scribes, I was wrong. I allowed my assumptions and my insecurities to overshadow all the good that God was doing in Frankie's life. I missed the blessing of her true friendship just as they missed the blessing of recognizing their forgiving God was in their midst. But when I looked at my heart and saw my sin, I was able to see the good and glorify God. [bctt tweet="Let's examine our hearts, turning them over to Jesus so that He may perform miracles. // @BonnieEngstrom"] Sisters, let's not miss out of the blessings in our lives—of forgiveness, friendships, and more—because we have created false truths and have limited God and one another. Let's examine our hearts and our preconceived notions, turning them over to Jesus so that He may perform miracles. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker, and homemaker. She, her husband, and six 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.

Dishes were done, lunches were packed, counters had been wiped, and babes were sleeping in their beds. He stood in the kitchen and I leaned my head against door frame. This is just how it’s going to be for me, I said. I will always struggle with this. For many, many years I have struggled on and off with my mental health in a variety of ways. At best I consider it a unique way of seeing the world, at worst I’ve believe that I am defective. When I’ve let that lie color my life I start to think that others are blessed, and I am not. I see myself as a leper, vile, and cast out. It can be so easy to let the inner dialogue run amok. The truth is, in the last few months, I’ve had a flair up of sorts. I saw where things were headed because I’ve been down this road before. Again, I stop and I say, If you wish, you can make me clean, because I know He can. I know complete and total healing this side of Heaven is possible but not probable. The reality is, I have tools in this life to ease the burden, and I will find blessing in the tender heart I’ve been given that is wounded deeply, but loves deeply, and knows what it is to need someone to sit with you in the dark mess. [bctt tweet="I will find blessing in the tender heart I’ve been given that is wounded deeply."] When Jesus healed that leper, He crossed a societal divided that kept the clean on one side and the sick on the other. Can we be Christ to each other? Can you reach across the divide and love someone on the margins? Will you allow yourself to be loved even when you believe you don’t deserve it? 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.

In today's First Reading, Samuel responded to Eli every time he heard himself being called. Even though he was asleep each time, Samuel woke up quickly and he ran to Eli and said, "Here I am. You called me." (1 Samuel 3:8) Here was the sleeping young Samuel, and when he heard his name, he responded. He didn't ignore it or pretend he didn't hear it. He didn't turn over and fall back asleep. He got up and he responded. And after his persistence of answering that call multiple times, his understanding of God grew—he came to recognize that the voice calling him was that of the Lord, and then, lastly, he eagerly answered Him. He seems to have wanted what God wanted. This gives me a glimpse of how we're called to practice discipline in our lives, and it gives me pause to think about how I respond to the Lord calling me—particularly at times when I'm tired or weak. Do I run straight to Him? Do I answer Him? Do I acknowledge the ways He is making Himself known? I can't always answer, "yes" to these questions. I know I could be more attentive to our Lord's call—in listening for Him and in responding to Him—in relation to my vocation, absolutely, but also in relation to the small things He's asking of me every single day. Like being kind to a stranger, slowing down, and actually being present to them. Like meal planning for the week and grocery shopping without complaining. Like giving Him a few minutes of my day when it seems like I don't have any time to spare. God often speaks to people when they are open to hearing Him—when they have a relationship with Him, when they are dedicated to prayer, when they are silently slipping into sleep. Whether you're exhausted or energized, can you hear Him in the big ways and the small? [bctt tweet="Sister, let's spend more time with the Lord in prayer and in silence."] Sister, let's spend more time with the Lord in prayer and in silence. Let's hope to know His voice, recognize His presence and calling. Let's respond eagerly to Him, saying, speak, for your servant is listening. (1 Samuel 3:10) 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.

One of Satan’s most effective weapons in the modern age is that while the culture is utterly fascinated with witchcraft, dark magic, occult practices, and gnosticism, many Christians—perhaps even the majority, according to a Barna Survey—are reluctant to admit any kind of belief in a person who is Evil incarnate and who works tirelessly for our eternal damnation. That's kind of a problem. Pope Francis is frequently found reminding the faithful that the Devil is real, that there is an enemy force at work in our world whose sole fixation and raison d'etre is to drag us to Hell to suffer the rejection of God's will alongside Him for all eternity. This “quirk” of the current papacy doesn't get much airtime, and understandably so. It doesn't fit the media's hip, relevant narrative of Francis, plus, nobody really believes in ole red legs in a literal sense, I mean, come on. But Jesus did. “Quiet! Come out of him!” commands the Lord in today's Gospel. (Mark 1:25) He is addressing a personal being, cutting through any possible ambiguity as to what it is that troubles the poor man before him. Nobody can accuse Jesus, who heals Simon's mother-in-law of her fever and calls out “Talitha cum” to the little girl who lies captive in the sleep of death, of tending to “over spiritualize” matters. He is the Word incarnate, and His fleshly, human nature is like ours in all things but sin. But neither did Our Lord shy away from looking Evil in the face, rebuking it not as mere allegory for all that is imperfect in the world, but as a personal, particular force to be reckoned with. Come out of him! We have an enemy. But we have a Savior who is infinitely more powerful. In Jesus' name, give us the confidence to put on the full armor of Christ and the wisdom to call upon that power when we are confronted with the demons—actual and metaphorical—in our own lives. [bctt tweet="We have an enemy. But we have a Savior who is infinitely more powerful. // @jkuebbing"] Pray for the Lord to hold you close when you feel temptation overwhelming you. He is always, always on your side. Jenny Uebbing is a freelance writer and editor for Catholic News Agency. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband Dave and their small army of toddlers. You can find out more about her faith, thoughts on bioethics, and potty training failures here.

I’ve always had a slight obsession with celebrating special dates. Whether that’s meant going out for an anniversary dinner with my husband, sending a birthday present to a family member, or eating a favorite dessert on a Saint’s feast day, whatever the reason, I’ve celebrated. One day, though, that I’ve ignored these past 28 years has been my Baptism. I thought that it happened sometime in June 1989, so last October I finally decided to call my mom to learn more. It was June 11, 1989, and like most Sundays, she prepared a pot of her famous chicken noodle soup to serve after the Baptism. She dressed me in the same white gown that my dad and brothers had worn with the exception of a pink ribbon she pinned on the collar to “make it more girly.” The ceremony took place after one of the morning Masses, and just like that I was baptized. In today’s Gospel we read about Jesus’ Baptism which sounds like an epic scene from an action movie. Can you imagine the heavens tearing open, the Spirit descending like a dove, and the voice of God booming from the heavens as Jesus rose out of the water? (Mark 1:7-11) Just thinking about it gives me the chills! Christ’s baptism opened up the heavens that had been closed by Adam’s sin. Our own Baptism allows us to enter into Christ’s death and resurrection, and by the waters of our Baptism we have been freed from original sin. (Catechism of the Catholic Church 536-37) The date of our Baptism, as Pope Francis mentioned in his General Audience, January 2014, is one that deserves our full attention. “To know the date of our Baptism is to know a blessed day. The danger of not knowing it is losing awareness of what the Lord has done in us, the memory of the gift we have received.” (source) And so my challenge to you today is to celebrate your Baptism. Follow the advice of Pope Francis, and if you are like me and unsure of when you were baptized, talk to someone who might know: your parents, godparents, siblings, or someone from the church where you were baptized. Celebrate the day that you became a child of God and member of the Church—it is a day worth celebrating. [bctt tweet="Christ’s baptism opened up the heavens that had been closed by Adam’s sin. // @RDgal37"] Light a candle today and offer a prayer of thanksgiving for your birth into the Church. Joan Geiger is a North Dakota native and newlywed, and in her spare time she can be found going on adventures with her husband, working as a Registered Dietitian, and drinking coffee. You can find out more about her here.

We three kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar . . . It may be easy for many of us to sing this song by heart, without giving it much thought. It can be routine to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany as if it is a sweet little story about kings and gifts. But have you ever stopped to reflect more deeply on what it must it have been like to be one of the Magi—to behold a scene so mysterious, so sacred, so filled with glory—to gaze upon the Holy Family and witness first-hand their humility, courage, faithfulness, and obedience? Upon reflection of their visit, I only imagine their hearts experienced what was proclaimed in today’s First Reading from Isaiah. Then you shall be radiant at what you see, your heart shall throb and overflow . . . . (Isaiah 60:5) On this, the beautiful Feast of the Epiphany, I want to invite you into a deeper reflection of the visit of the Magi. I invite you to place yourself in the shoes of the man who has come from afar to honor the newborn baby Jesus. Imagine yourself standing before the very scene in Bethlehem. Watch Mary and the sweet baby Jesus interact, still growing acquainted with one another. Notice Saint Joseph, standing with calm and quiet courage. Stand in awe, as perhaps the Magi did, of the holy air that fills the room. See what it does to your heart. [bctt tweet="Stand before the babe and allow your heart to soak in the mystery of it all. // @emwilss"] Stand before the babe and allow your heart to soak in the mystery of it all. My prayer today is that we may each, in a new way, imitate the response of the Magi. Let us prostrate ourselves and do homage to this tiny child who is worthy of all praise—the Son of the Father who withholds no good thing from us, who came in the form of a baby to redeem us, to restore us, and to save us all. Emily Wilson-Hussem planned her whole life to become a sports reporter but turned out to be a Catholic musician and speaker at the hand of God. She lives out of her suitcase and travels across the world speaking to people of all ages. The heart of her ministry is offering encouragement to teen girls in search of their true identity, and she loves every second of it. She is the author of I Choose the Sky. You can find out more about her here.