It was August 2007. I was sitting in the waiting room of a tattoo parlor with sweaty hands. Trying to process how I, the girl who is petrified of needles, ended up in this place, remembering the conversation I had the day before with the boy I had a crush on. “You know what we should do to celebrate finishing our second week of college? You should get your belly button pierced and I should get another tattoo!" I thought he was kidding. In what way does poking a hole near my internal organs sound like fun, I thought? Not wanting to ruin his excitement, though, I played along with his idea. He bought into my enthusiasm and picked up his phone to call the tattoo parlor to book our appointments. So there we sat . . . . “The king was deeply distressed, but because of his oaths and the guests he did not wish to break his word to her.” (Mark 6:26) Just as I was filled with distress from my experience at the tattoo parlor, so too was Herod distressed as he agreed to have John executed. Even though he knew John was a “righteous and holy man” (Mark 6:20), he agreed to have him beheaded simply because of his desire to impress the guests at his party. His "yes" to pleasing others ultimately meant the end to another man’s life. As we celebrate the memorial of the Passion of Saint John the Baptist today, let us reflect on Saint John's constant yes to God. How he chose to speak the truth to Herod, even though it led him to being thrown in jail and murdered. How he wasn’t afraid to call out the Sadducees and Pharisees as he fearlessly baptized (Matthew 3:7). How, unlike me, he wasn't willing to do something just to get someone to like him. Let us all reflect on the ways can we be more like Saint John and less like a people pleaser. Maybe you have been skipping Mass on the weekends in order to spend that precious summer time at the lake. Or perhaps you have been gossiping at the lunch table because you don’t want to be left out. Whatever your struggle may be, don’t be afraid to ask the Lord for strength to say yes to Him. Live like Saint John and have courage. [bctt tweet="Whatever your struggle may be, don’t be afraid to ask the Lord for strength to say yes to Him. // @RDgal37"] 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.

Do you ever wonder what you might have said to Jesus if you were in Saint Peter’s shoes? I think I might have sounded a bit like this, “Wait, what? You want me to be what and you’re going to give me what keys? I mean really, Jesus, we should set people straight about who you are. How do they not see who you really are? Why can’t we tell them?” When I take the time to talk to Jesus (you know, when I quiet myself long enough to pray), I do say things like, “Are you sure? Why can’t I tell them what is going on? Why doesn’t she get it, why doesn’t she believe who you are? I should say something!” And then I imagine Jesus looking at me with the same look I give my kids, the look that says, “Trust me. I’ve got this.” He might even remind me that all would be revealed in His time, so yes, tell no one and wait for me to work in your life. Tell no one, because you are talking already to The Someone who matters. Jesus is telling me this, daily. Daily He calls me to live with trust in Him, and to live faithfully to the tasks at hand. Often I think like Saint Paul, marveling at the wisdom of the Lord, and seriously questioning how all the things work together in the future. I agree with him that God’s ways are unsearchable. And when Saint Paul praises God, saying “to him be glory forever,” I hear him also trusting faithfully in the God of mystery and wonders who always has and always will have it all worked out. (Romans 11:36) Jesus told the disciples to keep quiet about being the Christ because while God had given Saint Peter insight into Jesus' full identity, the rest of his followers were not ready for it. Christ's mission was not yet complete. My mission is still not complete, either. It’s good and right to praise Jesus and give thanks for His work in my life. Yet, the details, the inner workings and yet-to-be-developed plans for my life? I think He wants me to keep a little quieter about those things. It is then that He can work in the stillness and secret of my heart, and accomplish His work in my soul. I’m learning that we can keep silent as Jesus told Saint Peter, and also praise Him as Saint Paul did. It’s a mysterious balance, made possible by the One who accomplishes all things. To Him be the glory, for the wonderous things He does. Sing or hum your favorite hymn today, praising Our Lord! [bctt tweet="Tell no one, because you are talking already to The Someone who matters."] 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.

Today's story in the reading about Ruth has always made my sentimental heart swoon. Her passionate loyalty to her mother-in-law, her work ethic, her willingness to go into the unknown all make her an incredible heroine and example for all of her sisters to follow. Plus, isn't it romantic and powerfully stirring that Boaz fell in head over heels for her and "commanded the young men" to do her no wrong??? (Ruth 2:9) I think back on countless trips to the movie theater to watch a rom-com in my teens and into my twenties. Maybe I was with my mom (who loved buying a box of Dots only to select out the green ones), or one of my sisters (who could drive), or as I grew older, I might have slipped out on a muggy summer night with girlfriends (cackling and running from that scorched air into the cool). Did you also love coming away from a movie all a-flutter? Also clutching the warm buzz that some super smart and handsome man would whisk you away from the humble humdrum of the everyday? Ruth could tell a pretty amazing romance story, but the ultimate romance story, and the ultimate Man to whisk me away from my humdrum life is Christ. He's the one Who assures me that living my humble life without flashy fanciness means I'll be exalted. (Matthew 23:12) When I pined for a overwhelming sense of passion and love as a teen, I didn't know I was pining for real completion only available through my relationship with God. When I texted out the pieces of my pity-party heart to my girlfriends after the reality of young love broke open, I didn't know the balm wasn't more ice cream or more verbal affirmation. (Both are great, but, you know.) Our God will lift us up, us lowly normal gals, and flood our hearts with His love. He directs the purpose for our minds: to work hard on becoming Saints so we can be reunited with Him in the next life. His grace animates our souls to share joy and charity with those around us. He's the ultimate romance story, and we are so lucky to have Him. If you're also one who wants a happy ending for her love life, remember Who loves and fulfills us completely, and ask Him to help you know that more deeply. [bctt tweet="Our God will lift us up and flood our hearts with His love. // @WholeParenting"] Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer who blogs and sews 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.

About two months ago I decided I wanted to sit and read my entire Bible in one year. And while I’ve had a fairly good grasp of the New Testament up until now, especially the Gospels, the Old Testament and I have never really seen eye to eye. It’s just so long. Concubines? How are you seven hundred years old? Why can’t I pronounce any of these names? This God does not look familiar. Well, half-way through Genesis and after a fair bit of head-scratching, I realized something. In my limited perspective, I was trying to see the God of Noah, of Abraham, of Jacob through the eyes of my own place in time. I kept thinking, How is this the same God? He does not seem like Jesus. At all. But here is the explanation: God is not linear. God is not confined by time. He is eternal. "Teach me your paths, my God, guide me in your truths." (Psalm 25:4) The truth is, He is the same God. However, these are not the same people. After being tested, Jesus said, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment.” (Matthew 22:37) And it finally dawned on me. The stories of the Old Testament are not meant to make me fixate on the details of the historical facets. These stories are meant to do one thing—to show me that faith in and love of God is the only detail that matters. He created us to know, to love, and to serve Him. (Catechism of the Catholic Church § 1) I am now reading the Old Testament with new eyes—with open eyes. It is the unwavering faith of these people of old that rescued them, that rewarded them, that restored them. It is as true to me now, in 2017, as it was to them in their time. They loved Him with all their hearts. Am I willing to do the same? I sure hope so. Have you read the Catechism or parts of it? Have you read the Bible or parts of it? Resolve to get to know our faith better and engage more with our deep texts. [bctt tweet="The Lord created us to know, to love, and to serve Him."] 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.

Jesus is gathering His disciples. One by one, they encounter Him and follow Him. Philip runs to find Nathanael. "We have found the one about whom Moses wrote in the law." (John 1:45) He goes to Jesus, and in their exchange, Nathanael realizes that this man is the man whom the prophets spoke about. All of history and revelation culminates in this Jesus of Nazareth. Philip has led Nathanael to the greatest gift. Discipleship is a beautiful thing. But on the ground, what does that work look like? I think it looks a lot like what Philip did for Nathanael. He ran to his friend not just to tell him about finding the Messiah. He runs to his friend and says “come and see.” He takes him back to Jesus. This is what discipleship looks like. Come and see. When I have turned away from God in drastic or slight ways, I have been fortunate enough to have friends who were courageous enough to say to me “come and see.” They’ve led me back to the source of Truth and Beauty. They have called me out when I have been wrong. They have lovingly spoken truth to me when I most needed to hear it. There have been times in my life where I have had the opportunity to be the one who has run to a dear friend and said “I have found the one . . . come and see.” This is discipleship. Leading each other over and over again to Jesus of Nazareth. Sister, how can you lead others to God? [bctt tweet="This is discipleship. Leading each other over and over again to Jesus of Nazareth."] 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.

I have always found this Gospel passage to be difficult to accept. There's a strong part of me that craves rules to be followed, duties to be done, and dues to be paid. I want order and logical rules with appropriate consequences for most things in life. I value personal responsibility and integrity strongly. I don't like to see people do half the work but get the same reward as someone who puts in a solid day's work. "Are you envious because I am generous?" (Matthew 20:15) Jesus is giving us this parable not to talk about work and responsibility, but to tell us of life in the Kingdom of God. Jesus is saying that we are all welcomed fully into the Kingdom no matter our past, our history, our mistakes. If we repent and want to live with Christ, we are welcomed and showered with grace because our God is generous. I think the truth of why I have difficulty with this parable isn't because I value responsibility, but because I feel unworthy of God's infinite generosity. His generosity is not just meant for them, it's meant for me. I receive it everyday whether I see and feel it or not. I am deeply uncomfortable with how unworthy I am of this fountain of grace. I know I am the last worker, yet will receive God's goodness just the same. The Kingdom of God is not made up of the worthy, it is made up of the unworthy. We have all sinned, we have all needed God's generosity, His forgiveness, His salvation. Jesus wants us to see in ourselves our need for Him, but to also know that His generosity is beyond our imagination and He extends it to everyone, including ourselves. Where can I see God's generosity in my life today? Add thanks and praise to God in your prayer time today for His generosity to you, in the big things and the little things. [bctt tweet="The Kingdom of God is not made up of the worthy, it is made up of the unworthy."] Christy Isinger is a wife and mom to five lovely, loud children and lives in northern Canada. When not homeschooling, she is a devoted reader of English literature from Jane Austen to Agatha Christie. She writes about the beauty of faith, life, and the home at her blog and is the co-host of the Fountains of Carrots Podcast. You can find out more about her here.

In John Steinbeck’s novel The Grapes of Wrath, there is a scene where Ma Joad has no money and is helped by a man who is almost as poor as she is. Responding to his kindness, she says, “If you’re in trouble or hurt or need—go to poor people. They’re the only ones that’ll help—the only ones.” Her words seem counterintuitive. Shouldn’t you go to the rich, who have the money to help? But having the means to help is not necessarily the same as having the inclination to do so. When you have firsthand experience with poverty, you have a natural empathy for the poor that the wealthy may not. There’s an obvious connection to the Gospel, when Jesus points out that it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God. His words subvert our expectations. We live in a world where wealth is seen as the entry ticket to all desirable things: power, status, comfort. But Jesus challenges this belief. He makes us realize that other things—like genuine sacrifice for others—get us farther than a healthy stock portfolio ever could. It’s fitting that this subversive message shows up on the day where we celebrate the Queenship of Mary. Mary herself is the poster child for how God reverses our expectations. In the Gospel according to Saint Luke, she speaks about how God casts down the arrogant and lifts up the lowly. And her own life is a perfect example of this. She was neither powerful nor wealthy; when she presented her infant son at the temple, she brought doves as an offering, evidence of her household’s lack of money. And yet today, this humble girl from Galilee is queen of Heaven and Earth. How’s that for a surprising reversal? And even in her queenship, our expectations are subverted. Most of us think of queens as remote, privileged beings, waving stiffly at the crowds. The Blessed Virgin Mary is a queen who knows what it means to struggle. She identifies with every grieving parent and every hungry refugee family. Through her own suffering, that heart has been cracked open, making it wide enough to hold all those who need her. This makes her a precious intercessor for our own times of trouble or hurt or need. With her loving empathy, she has the inclination to help us; through her unique closeness to Christ, she has the means to do so. And she is only a prayer away. Let's pray a Hail Mary today, asking for her help on something specific that's troubling us. She's a great listener. [bctt tweet="Mary herself is the poster child for how God reverses our expectations."] photo credit 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.

In graduate school, one of my required classes was Pauline Literature. The priest who taught loved Saint Paul something mighty fierce; to the point he would dress in costume (complete with chains!) and proclaim the words of Paul from the Roman prison where he was held captive. Ladies, this was a show . . . sometimes we even had popcorn! When I read the letter to the Romans now, sometimes I still see Father Cassidy in my mind walking around in his chains and throwing them on our desks. I have always loved this title for Saint Paul, Apostle to the Gentiles. Paul was not one of the original twelve Apostles of Jesus, but I have always seen him as an unofficial, honorary one. Saint Paul became an Apostle to the modern world in which he was living, to the people in the day who knew nothing of the Truth of Jesus Christ. His entire life and mission was to be a witness to the culture and time he lived in. A Gentile was anyone who was not Jewish. They did not know the Torah or possess any knowledge of Judaism or its Scripture. While we may never be officially dubbed with a title as Saint Paul, we are called to be Apostles to the modern, secular world in a way that was no different than Paul. The world we live in is full of all the same corruptions as the ancient world of Rome, Corinth, or any other city. We are recycling through the same sins and battles. We worship the same idols of greed, power, and sex. We chase after things that our culture promises will bring us meaning and fulfillment. And that culture, my sisters, is the one we are called to bring Jesus Christ into, just as Saint Paul did. Stop and think about this today even for a few moments . . . YOU are called to be an Apostle to the modern world, in the way Saint Paul was called to be an Apostle to the Gentiles. What would it look like in your daily life if you really lived like you believed this? [bctt tweet="We are called to bring Jesus Christ into this culture, just as Saint Paul did. // @amoderngrace"] 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.

“Dada? Dada?” my son calls in his sweet, high voice. Leaning to peer out the window, his tiny feet stand tiptoe on his favorite stepstool. His bright blue eyes look hopefully down the street in the direction from which my husband always walks home from work. “Dada!” he exclaims with joy as soon as his father comes into view. “Hi, Dada! Hi, Dada!” My son wastes no time as my husband walks in the door. Before my beloved can even remove his backpack, our son reaches up and wraps his little arms around his father in the biggest hug he is capable of giving. The love of a child is complete and deeply sincere. A child is innately faithful to her parents, for a child knows the love of those who care and provide for her. A child trusts. A child runs to her father and mother in need, relying upon them for care, for support, for love. Oh, that we might become more like children in our relationship with our Heavenly Father, in our relationship with Jesus. In the Gospel today, Jesus blesses the children. “Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14) The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who run to Jesus, who seek His blessing. It belongs to those who find refuge in Him. In this is fullness of joy, sisters. This is the path of life! The blessing and love we receive from Him is freely given—we cannot do anything to earn it—but we must run to Him, like children. We must not let our sinfulness, our hurt, our fear keep us from Him. Jesus is always waiting for us, sisters, ready to embrace us with open arms. This is our inheritance. Do you go to the Lord for blessing, for refuge? Quiet your heart this day. Place yourself in His presence. Feel Jesus gently lay His hands upon you, and allow Him to bless you. [bctt tweet="The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who find refuge in Him. // @inendlesssong"] 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.

Tears ran down my face as I stood frustrated in our little apartment kitchen not sure what to say. I had already said too much. The dark thought flitted into my mind. Why did I even get married to him if it was going to be like this? I don’t even remember what that argument was about those long years ago when we were so young, money was so tight, and our future was not sure—we were still trying to get my husband through grad school and the job market in his field was tenuous. Yet, we had freely entered into the Sacrament of Matrimony with the proper intentions, knowing that it was for life with the intention of being open to having children—for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sickness, and in health. For poorer and for worse was not exactly easy—Why were we doing this difficult thing? Why did we strive to work it out? The apostles in today’s Gospel find the teaching of Jesus on lifelong marriage difficult. They exclaim after His teaching on divorce, “If that is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry.” (Matthew 19:10) And Jesus responds that, “Not all can accept this word, but only those to whom that is granted.” (Matthew 19:11) We might ask: to whom is it granted? From the beginning it was not so, but then man and woman sinned. Moses’ command allowing divorce was to a hardhearted, fallen chosen people awaiting the atonement of a savior. The Apostles, before the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, could not understand. We fell from grace, but grace restored all things to us. Christ, when He established the Church, raised God’s creation of marriage up to the level of a Sacrament. Because of grace, marriage can be what it was meant to be: a lifelong covenant for the sanctification of the couple and the filling of the world with more beautiful humans created in the image of God. But in the midst of this messy life, it is easy to forget that God takes care of us no matter how hard it is to be married. Sometimes we forget that the seemingly impossible vocation we are living is possible because it is a Sacrament, a sign Christ established through which we can receive His grace and become holy. His grace is just waiting for us to ask. God has joined you together, and God will see you through to eternity. If you are married, turn to Him, the creator of marriage whether you are struggling or things are going well, and He will give you His help to live more fully as two become one. If you are single, place your future in His hands and ask Him for a vocation, a calling, that will truly bring you closer to Him—for ultimately that is what our life is for. [bctt tweet="We fell from grace, but grace restored all things to us."] Susanna Spencer once studied theology and philosophy, but now happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul. 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.

My stomach twisted in the most breathtaking of knots while I washed the last of the dinner dishes. My forearms were covered in suds and my mind was covered in thoughts of the pain a friend had recently caused me. I visibly rolled my eyes and said to myself, "We've been through this enough. You've forgiven. You've confessed this. You've got to get over it." The funny fact about forgiveness is that it doesn't feel good. Yes, it sets us free. It frees us to love. It frees us to heal. It frees us to move forward instead of remaining stuck in our own quagmire. It frees us to conquer the impossible, to walk along the dry banks of the Jordan River as Israel did. It frees us for miracles and for virtue. But when we're hurting, when someone has wronged us (either maliciously or unintentionally), forgiveness can feel like nothing but raging waters, taunting us with its enormity and scaring us away from heeding the Lord's call to more. Purging our pride to make room for mercy is uncomfortable. Most of us don't "feel" very forgiving in the aftermath of heartbreak. But lucky for us, forgiveness isn't a feeling, it's a choice. When we choose to forgive someone, we are not often instantly inundated with the warm and fuzzies. But we can choose to forgive even when we're still suffering. Even though I had long since forgiven my friend, the situation still stung. And that's okay. The Lord gives us time to heal; there is no deadline. The Passion and Death He suffered to forgive us serves as the perfect illustration of forgiving even when it still hurts. What matters is the decision we make in the face of these aching feelings. We can forgive seventy-seven times. (Matthew 18:22) When painful memories arise, we can say again and again, "Lord, I forgive them, and I do not wish them ill." Sister, is there a circumstance in your life that's requiring repeated forgiveness? Does it feel impossible? Are you like me, growing frustrated with yourself that this thing is still bugging you? Have you chosen to forgive a great debt because Jesus has forgiven yours? Today, let's unite in prayer. Let's steadily hold the ark of truth for one another as we strive to do what might seem impossible. "Lord, I forgive. Help my unforgiveness." [bctt tweet="We can choose to forgive even when we're still suffering."] Olivia Spears is a middle school religion teacher turned SAHM who is married to her high school best friend. You can find out more about her here.

I have a horrible memory for written text. And for spoken word. And for episodes of shows. Basically just a bad memory in general. But today’s Gospel is a lesson that has stuck with me, perhaps because it is so straightforward and so applicable to life. Life is going to be filled with conflict. French philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, said, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” Such experience is bound to bring problems and dissent, and we have the opportunity to grow through that conflict. I grew up in a very loving but somewhat passive aggressive family. Healthy conflict didn’t really exist and thus my conflict resolution skills were somewhat lacking as I entered adulthood. When I met and married my husband, his direct manner of handling conflict was both disarming and refreshing. I had to learn to move beyond the uncomfortable feelings of conflict and learn to speak honestly. What I found in the resolution of conflict was a great peace and an even deeper appreciation for our relationship—which was stronger than any issues which would develop. There are times in the Bible when the words of Jesus are veiled and mysterious and just plain confusing. And there are times when He is refreshingly clear and straightforward. Jesus has given us the perfect model for conflict resolution for our Christ-centered relationships. When He is the center of a relationship, respectful honesty and straightforwardness will bring about a greater love and a deeper understanding of the other. He tells us to take the matter directly to our brother, and if that doesn’t resolve it, bring a friend or two along for support and accountability (my modern day paraphrase). He tells us that where two or three are gathered in His name, He is there. (Matthew 18:20) He isn’t just talking about being there for a prayer meeting—He is talking about being there when we are working to resolve conflict. He is with us. How do you handle healthy conflict? Are there conflicts or unhealthy situations in your life you are hiding from? Ask the Lord to guide you regarding these issues and help you to seek resolution and peace. [bctt tweet="Jesus gave us the perfect model for conflict resolution for our Christ-centered relationships."] MaryRuth Hackett is a full-time wife and mother doing her best to teach her four children to love God and country. You can find out more about her here.

Happy Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary! On this Holy Day of Obligation, at Mass you will hear the priest pray these words of the Preface just before the Eucharistic Prayer: “For today the Virgin Mother of God was assumed into heaven as the beginning and image of your Church’s coming to perfection and a sign of sure hope and comfort to your pilgrim people; rightly you would not allow her to see the corruption of the tomb since from her own body she marvelously brought forth your incarnate Son, the Author of all life.” (Luke 1:46-55) O Virgin Mother of God, assumed into Heaven, pray for me! O Mary, you are the beginning of the Church’s coming to perfection. The Church is struggling on Earth today, but you, the Mother of the Church, are the beginning of the Church’s holiness. Help me to be pure and holy. O Mary, you are the image of the Church’s coming to perfection. We fix our gaze on your body and soul assuming into Heaven so that it might be united to the body and soul of your beloved Son who ascended into Heaven. Lead me to my home with you in heaven. O Mary, you are our sign of sure hope and comfort. No matter how lost I may be on my pilgrim journey on Earth, bring me your peace. Be my hope in the darkness and comfort in the pain. O Mary, you did not see the corruption of the tomb because you did not have the corruption of sin. Pray for me, a sinner, and be with me at the hour of my death when I see the corruption of the tomb. O Mary, you brought forth the Author of all life. Bring forth the Author of life into my sin and pain. Bring Jesus to me so that I may have new life. O Mary, you are blessed among all women. Help me to always rejoice in God my Savior. O Mary, the Almighty has done great things for you. Give me eyes to see the great things He has done for me. O Mary, Gate of Heaven, pray for me! [bctt tweet="Give me eyes to see the great things He has done for me."] As you enjoy this day prayer and rest, I encourage you to set aside time to pray the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary, especially meditating on the fourth decade, the Assumption of Mary. 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.

The disciples have been up all night, being tossed about by waves. It’s sometime between three and six in the morning when they are frightened to see a ghostly figure approaching across the water. When Jesus reassures them that it’s Him, Peter, apparently, thinks to himself, That. I want to do that, too. He asks Jesus for miracle. It’s granted. He’s actually doing it. Then he panics. It makes me think of my brother- and sister-in-law. They spent the first five years of their marriage praying for a baby. Then, through adoptions and biological births, they ended up with four boys under three. That’s a pretty strong wind, indeed. I can relate, too. I wanted to move. And to fix up this crazy fixer upper house myself. And to write a book. And to send my oldest kids to school. And to homeschool the others. And to have another baby. I just didn’t, necessarily, want all of it at exactly the same time. But that’s how it happened. I asked God for these things and boldly stepped out of the boat into them. It was going pretty well until I looked around and realized how nuts it all was, and started to flounder in my blessings. Just like Saint Peter. But that’s okay. We can be like Saint Peter. We can ask for the world then not be sure we can handle it after all. Because here’s where Saint Peter’s real lesson to us comes. He blows it again and again, but he ALWAYS turns back to Jesus: “Lord, save me!” (Matthew 14:30) And Jesus always does. Things are still crazy at my brother- and sister-in-law’s house. But they’re surviving. There’s still plenty to do around here. The yet-unpainted part of the house seems to leer at me while I focus on doing other things for a few months. But I’m grateful for all of it. And one of these days, we’ll be back in the boat, relaxing with Jesus, laughing about how crazy it all was for a little while there. Ask for Jesus' help today. Just ask and He'll be right there with you on your crazy ride. [bctt tweet="Jesus always saves us. // @kendra_tierney"] 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.

I used to get sick all the time. Throughout high school and college I seemed to live a chronic roller coaster of incapacitating illness that would eventually move into short periods of again being able to do "normal" activities like my peers. Then I'd experience sickness again as the winding, sometimes terrifying, and definitely uncomfortable ride continued. I noticed that during the times when I was "well," I did not really heed the wisdom from today's reading to "take care not to forget the Lord." (Deuteronomy 6:12) I began to realize that during the times when I was sick, I definitely turned more to the Lord in prayer, striving to offer my illnesses to God and begging Him for healing. However, once I was doing okay again, I seemed to forget about the healing God had done for me, and I returned to the pattern of relying on my own strength and power without concern, reliance, or gratitude towards Him who had done the work in me. In today's reading, Moses tells the people that when they come into the Promised Land and when they receive all of these gifts that they have been given without any of their own doing, they must not forget the Lord. They must not forget that it is the Lord who has brought them out of Egypt and out of slavery. It is God who is the source of all of their good gifts. Throughout my own health journey and especially throughout the last few months, the words of today's Responsorial Psalm have been resonating within me: "I love you, Lord my strength!" (Psalm 18:2) I find myself repeating these words almost daily, and I think it serves as a reminder to me of God's power and mercy in my life and that any strength I possess is a gift from Him. Today I'm wondering how it is that you take care not to forget the Lord. How has He brought you out of Egypt? Out of slavery? What are a few gifts from the Lord that you can remember today? [bctt tweet="We must not forget the Lord."] Mary Catherine Craige is a lover of creativity and learning new things. When she is not guiding the development of young children through Montessori methods, you can find her behind her harp, taking an art class, or writing silly poems. You can find out more about her here.

I have what you might call spiritual amnesia. The Lord has been so good to me, so patient, so generous, and yet when trouble comes, I forget everything He has ever done for me. Suddenly I revert back to this base belief that it’s up to me, that God isn’t working on it and that He can't (or won’t) possibly come through in time. From there, I panic or plot or strive, without any real relief. Thankfully, today’s Psalm gives us the antidote: to remember. When the Israelites doubted God’s sovereignty and provision, Moses extolled them to remember the deeds of the Lord. How He had chosen them uniquely from among all other nations, “personally” led them out of slavery in Egypt, gone before them in battle and spoken to them through fire. (Deuteronomy 4:39) God had already done extraordinary things for them, already proven He would provide for their every need, and yet they wondered if they could trust Him. It’s easy to look at the Israelites and believe that we would trust God if we had seen for ourselves the miracles they witnessed, but a Bible scholar once taught me that it is far better to relate than to judge. You and I suffer from the same sort of paralyzing fear. When the heat is on, we believe again the Original Lie: God isn’t for us. But it simply isn’t true. The Lord has come through for me hundreds of times. In serious, scary circumstances and in seemingly small, everyday ways. He is trustworthy. And when we can’t trust by our own power, we can call to mind His faithfulness to the Israelites, or to the Saints who have gone before us, or to our sisters in Christ. We lean into the truth of each other’s stories to root us in the reality that God loves us and that He will come through for us, just as He always has. Pray a slow Glory Be prayer today. Offer Glory to God and acknowledge His eternal love for you. [bctt tweet="He will come through for us, just as He always has. // @thebethdavis"] Beth Davis is the Director of Ministry Advancement for Blessed is She. She served as a youth minister for eleven years. She has a heart for teaching women about developing an intimate relationship with Jesus and speaking hope to weary souls. You can find out more about her here.

“Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully . . . . God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Corinthians 9:6-7) I woke up at 6:30 this morning. I changed diapers, nursed a baby, made breakfast, dealt with tantrums, all before I had a chance to have that first sip of coffee. Then I went on to do three loads of laundry, clean the bathroom, make lunch, hold crabby kids, do nap time, tidy up the kitchen, etc, etc. I know how to give. That’s not my problem. I am constantly giving of myself to my family. I’m giving up my time, personal space, my sleep, and hobbies that I enjoy. Some days leave me so exhausted that feel like I have nothing left to give. But when I read today’s reading I realize that there’s something I’m still holding on to. You see, my giving is not very cheerful. In fact, my giving is usually accompanied by some loud sighing and eye rolling and occasionally some door slamming. My giving is not cheerful because I haven’t given all. There’s still a tiny part of my heart that I’m holding onto, fighting tooth and nail to keep control of it because if it I give it all, well, then I’d have to trust Him. And that would be terrifying. But our Lord is not satisfied with most of me, He wants all of me. And as scary as it is to give it all, to trust Him with my future, my happiness, my life, it’s not until I do so that I can truly live. “Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life.” (John 12:25) When I try to hold on to my life, people become annoyances, and my vocation becomes drudgery. But when I give everything, all that I am and all that I have, to Jesus, He gives me grace in “abundance for every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:8) It is because of this grace that I am able to cheerfully serve those around me. Sisters, don’t be afraid to be generous with God. God cannot be outdone in generosity. For whatever He may ask of us, in the workplace, at school, on the mission field, or at home with crabby toddlers, He’s always there, giving us the grace to get it done. [bctt tweet="The Lord is not satisfied with most of me, He wants all of me. "] 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 teaching piano lessons, knitting, tripping over wooden train sets, or writing. Find out more about her here.