I have a time-wasting problem. One that I have confessed again and again for years, and I know that to remedy the problem I simply have to use my time well. I use a planner, allocating time for each thing. It goes well in the morning, but then I get to the afternoon. My children are napping or resting, and I waste that time. I scroll through the social media, justifying it to myself. Then I see the late hour, and I scramble to do the things I meant to do. I usually end up irritable with my children, and take out my impatience with myself on them. I start dinner late, we eat late, the kids are in bed late, and then my husband and I still have to clean the kitchen instead of having a nice evening. What seems like a simple moment to relax actually has an ill effect on my whole family. Jeremiah today is spot on about the human heart: More tortuous than all else is the human heart, beyond remedy; who can understand it? I, the LORD, alone probe the mind and test the heart, To reward everyone according to his ways, according to the merit of his deeds. I do not want to be wasting my time. I have resolved often to limit my social media use for the sake of my family. Yet my restless heart does seem beyond remedy sometimes. In fact, I kind of like my mindless scrolling. But like I tell my children: pleasure does not indicate that something is good. And as the Prophet tells us, God knows our hearts and sees our deeds. I know that in my time wasting I am turning away from the Lord; finding pleasure in other things. But these things will not ultimately satisfy; they just plug a hole that only God can satisfy. Saint Thérèse of Lisieux wrote in her autobiography The Story of a Soul that “[p]erfection consists in doing His will, in being what He wants us to be.” When I take my struggle to God, I see that His will for me is to not waste my afternoon time. When I do use it well to pray quietly, to read books, and to write, my whole life is better, for I am being what He wants me to be. My human heart, on its own, is beyond remedy, but with grace, I can overcome my attachment. We all have habitual sins that we struggle to overcome. But God does not leave us hanging; He will give us grace. And while we may struggle our whole lives, He will know the struggle in our hearts, for He alone can read them. Give Him your heart and your struggle. [bctt tweet="Perfection consists in doing His will, in being what He wants us to be."] God, come to my assistance. Lord, make haste to help me.~opening prayers of the Liturgy of the Hours Susanna Spencer once studied theology and philosophy, but now happily cares for her three adorable little girls, new baby 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.

Think of a time in which you were misunderstood. Maybe it was a small matter, or perhaps it was a major misunderstanding that rippled throughout your entire life. How did you feel in that moment? My stomach always flips, my bones ache, and my mind feels swirly. Humanity is so frail, and we do not like being misunderstood. We certainly don't appreciate being maligned, especially by people we know and even love. Jeremiah sums it up pretty well. He's basically asking the Lord, "Why is this happening?! I've done nothing wrong but these people are dragging my name through the mud and looking to destroy me!" In the Gospel, we witness Jesus prophecy about the Great Moment in which He was completely misunderstood and turned over to those who sought to destroy Him by someone He loved dearly. In a sense, Jeremiah's woes are a foreshadowing of the cruelty that would put Our Lord to death. When we are in the midst of a frustrating situation in which we feel misunderstood, it can be really difficult to have a heavenly perspective. Anger and pride and sadness often cloud our intellect, and it's a challenge to meditate on the similar suffering Jesus went through on this earth. I find this especially true living as a Catholic woman in this day and age. We are fair game. In the media, in conversation, Catholicism is often treated in a snarky way. Isn't that frustrating? I often find myself thinking, "But that's not actually what the Church teaches!" or "If you only understood why we do that." However, if we are able to step outside our own emotions, even for a moment, we can find great comfort in reflecting on God's own moments of being maligned and misunderstood. He's been there; He's done that. He knows how we feel. Jesus desires for us to come to Him with all our labors because He has carried them all. And He gives us rest. [bctt tweet="Jesus desires for us to come to Him with all our labors."] Turn to Him today. Let go of that frustration. Look for rest in Him. 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.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is the disciple of Jesus par excellence. As the Mother of Jesus, she was closer to Him than any other human being. She knew, more than anyone, the significance of Jesus’ words: "Give and gifts will be given to you: a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap." Can you hear Jesus saying these words to His mother? Mary, your yes to the Father gave Me life. You nourished My body. You gave Me a home. Thank you. And Mary ponders in her heart the gifts she has received. Jesus reminds her . . . . You received me into your life. You received Saint Joseph’s guidance, a good measure of miles traveled together. You received the curious shepherds packed together in the stable. You received the gold, frankincense, and myrrh shaken down from the long journey of the Magi. You received the the glory of My hour when the wine was overflowing at the wedding at Cana. And after I gave My life on the cross, you received My body, poured into your lap. Can you hear Mary remembering these words of Jesus as she holds His dead body? Mary, remember to give and gifts will be given to you: a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. Beaten. Bloody. Bruised. Rigid. Cold. Lifeless. Her Son. Her Savior. Her Love. And Mary prays with the Psalmist, I will give thanks to you forever. Like the star over the stable in Bethlehem, a peaceful star of hope must have shone deep in the Immaculate Heart of Mary in the darkness of that painful moment at the foot of the cross. But as Jesus promised: give and gifts will be given. A good measure of three days in the tomb. Disciples packed together in the upper room, waiting. Thomas’ doubts shaken down as he placed his hands in Jesus’ wounds. Joy overflowing with the Good News of the Resurrection. Blood and water from the pierced Heart of Jesus, poured out to save you and me. Today, what will you give? Today, what gifts will be given? [bctt tweet="Today, what will you give?"] Be generous. Be attentive to the gifts the Father pours into your lap. Keep receiving His goodness, sisters! 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.

Oh man, the scrapbook moments of life are awesome, aren’t they? Do you ever scroll through your phone’s camera roll and get lost in the sweetness of memories? Maybe it’s a wedding you attended, a girls’ weekend you loved, a retreat with good friends, the family beach day, the weekend getaway with your husband, a crisp fall day watching college football (gig ‘em) or a really stellar mom day—sometimes the moment stands still, doesn’t it? It feels so good to soak up that friendship and love and leave the worries of day-to-day life on the backburner. Who wants to walk away from the beauty of those experiences? The Apostles sure didn’t. Saints Peter, James, and John were thrilled: “Jesus, man, You are the Messiah! How about You, Moses and Elijah all camp here with us. We’ve got this rocking tent and some killer steaks on the grill. Let's make it a sleepover!” Of course they were giddy. Their Savior was before them, in dazzling white, reminding them of just how great God’s love was for them. I would’ve been looking for a tent, too. And perhaps a Dr Pepper. But Jesus doesn’t call us to stay on the mountaintop of life. He asks us to amble our way back down to the valley. He asks us to suffer, to stretch out of our comfort zones, and to get real with people. You can’t lead people to Christ unless you meet them where they are. And girls, they ain’t at the top of the mountain. Be inspired by your Savior on the mountaintop. Never forget what that goodness feels and looks like. Honor His commandments. But, get your butt off the mountain and get busy doing His work. [bctt tweet="You can’t lead people to Christ unless you meet them where they are.// @kwhitaker96"] Rise, and do not be afraid. Kathryn Whitaker and her husband, Scott, have 6 awesome kids, teen to toddler. She is a former public relations consultant turned freelance graphic designer, party planner, organizer, and preemie advocate who hails from the Lone Star state. You can find out more about her here.

  I don’t often use the word peculiar. It’s a funny one to roll off of the tongue. Peculiar. Not a word with the best connotations. I always think of the common definition: something a little off, strange, unusual, weird even. But because I am in graduate school to become an English teacher, I did something I advise my students to do often. I looked it up. The second definition, there under the one I know off-hand, is “belonging exclusively to.” In today’s First Reading, Moses tells the Israelites they are to belong exclusively to God: “a people peculiarly His own.” Exclusive is another one of those words I don’t often apply to my relationship with God. In the world of modern dating (something I am not good at), “exclusive” gets tossed around a lot. “Oh, you’ve been seeing each other for a while! Are you exclusive?” At first glance, I am taken aback thinking of myself exclusively belonging to God. Am I not called to relationship and community no matter my vocation? Don’t I need to be open to people? But it’s not that complicated. If I am dating someone exclusively, I don’t cut everyone else out of my life. I still have my girlfriends and guy friends, my family, my students, my classmates, my coworkers, my BiS sisters—the list goes on. But I don’t date other people or flirt with other people. I am first committed to the person I am dating, exclusively. Exclusivity with God means that He is the first one I turn to—because I am peculiarly His own. Before the guys I date, before my family, before my students. First, I am God’s. [bctt tweet="First, I am God’s.// @br1gid"] Examine your heart today. Is God first? Brigid Hogan is a midwestern graduate student who finds peace in lakes, the Mass, and fiction when she isn’t ensconced in schoolwork. Find out more about her here.

  “Be a person of integrity,” we tell our kids and teenagers. It’s a goal that may seem fuzzy; what does “integrity” mean, anyhow? Years ago, when I discovered that the word “integrity” means “wholeness,” a light bulb went off for me. Having integrity means that we are not internally divided, not compartmentalized. It means that what we profess is the same as what we do. This is not an easy goal, honestly, because we all compartmentalize our lives in one way or another. The Gospel shows one example of this, indicating that we often worship God while maintaining resentful relationships with others. We love God while hating—or at least intensely disliking—each other. The Gospel invites us to do otherwise, to reject this fragmentation and become whole. This is far from easy. What about the person who has been rude to me, cruel to me? The person who has hurt the people I love? They deserve my anger, don’t they? Forgiveness is a process, and sometimes, we need to move in baby steps. One of the first of those steps is simply to pray for the other person, to pray for their health and their happiness. If they are still hurting us or others, we can pray for them to have a change of heart. Being human, even this is sometimes hard. I can see where my personal conflicts lie when I try to pray for someone and find a tug of resistance deep inside. I find that I don’t want to pray for this person; I would rather persist in my anger and my resentment. And that’s why this Gospel is so hard, but so important. If I want to live a life of integrity, one in which alignment of my will and God’s will drives my life, I should put aside my own petty tendency to savor resentment. Instead, I should embrace the bigness of God, who wants all of His children to find fullness of life. God wants those who hurt me to repent and change. God also wants me to see that I have hurt others, too, in ways I can’t perceive without some quiet soul-searching. And God wants me to recognize that I can do better, much better, than a fragmented life. God wants our wholeness, for all our sakes. And it starts with prayer. [bctt tweet="God wants our wholeness."] Think of someone for whom you feel resentment or anger. Pray for that person. Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of Taste and See: Experiencing the Goodness of God with Our Five Senses 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 summer before my junior year of college was one of the most exciting and terrifying seasons of my life. I was in a dating relationship with a guy, for the first time ever. And while I didn’t know much about dating, I could tell that our relationship was gaining intensity at a rapid pace. It was exciting for all the reasons one might think; texts and phone calls throughout the day, being taken out to dinner, holding hands for the first time. But as I have already mentioned, it was also terrifying. You see, I was an Evangelical Protestant, and this guy was a Catholic. And good Evangelical girls don’t date Catholic guys. Throughout my high school and college years I had prayed about my desire to date and some day be married. Lord, if it be Your will, and when the time is right, lead me to the man you’ve created to be my spouse. And then, for some bizarro reason, the first and only guy to ever ask me out was a Catholic. And despite all of my (poorly founded) objections to Catholicism, purgatory, praying to Mary, swinging around those incense things, this guy seemed to have a real faith in Jesus and I really liked him. I remember sitting in my car one day after getting off work from my summer job, with my Bible propped up on the steering wheel imploring God to guide me in His will. Wouldn’t it be great if God would give us really clear-cut answers to our prayers, like a vision, or a dream, or a message from a prophet? For some believers, those forms of communication with God may be a reality. For most of us though, God answers our prayers more subtly, and in ways we don’t expect. But He is most definitely still answering prayers, so pay attention! Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. I asked God to close the door on this relationship if it wasn’t His will for me. And He didn’t. Little by little He revealed His will for me by giving me peace about this relationship, by giving my family peace as we became more serious, and by giving me peace and joy as I began to explore the Catholic faith. Seven years ago I ended up marrying that Catholic guy, and coming into full communion with the Catholic Church. I have never once doubted that this was God’s will for me, and I am daily grateful that He answered my prayer in this way. [bctt tweet="God answers our prayers more subtly, and in ways we don’t expect."] What are you praying for? Does it feel like God isn’t listening? Ask the Holy Spirit for the eyes of faith to see how God is working in your life. 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.

Have you noticed how every generation has a label? The “civic generation” always put others first. The “baby boomers” are self-centered and too permissive with their children. “Generation X” and “Generation Y” and the “Millenials” get all muddled so that their members aren’t quite sure which profile they are supposed to fit, but the descriptions of all of them are often so negative that no one wants to be called any of them. Each generation can conveniently blame its dysfunction on the shortcomings of the one before. Who decides what this generation will be? The labels that describe us tell us who we are and give us reasons for it. This is not a new trend. In today’s Gospel, Jesus describes “this generation” as “an evil generation.” They seek a sign, he says, but they will not get one. They already have the sign of Jonah. Jonah made it only a third of the way into the city of Nineveh before the entire city repented and fell on its knees before God. Jonah’s message inspired a king to sit in ashes and declare and national period of mourning for his people to beg God’s forgiveness. Jonah’s trip to Nineveh saved its people from extinction. Jonah was a sign . . . and when the people turned toward Him, God embraced them. Jesus came, too, as a sign. Jesus taught and preached for three years before giving up His life for all who had come before and all who were still to come. Jesus showed how people could have a relationship with God as a Father. Jesus’ death and resurrection forever defeated the power of sin so that death has no victory any longer. Jesus was a sign . . . and when the people turned toward Him, God embraced them. What God wants is never to punish, but to be in relationship with the people He loves. What is the sign for this generation, who have seen all these other signs already, who have the benefit of all the generations before us? Despite any labels that people might apply to our generations, we are each responsible to answer before God. This is our moment, our opportunity to turn from whatever distracts us or prevents us from being with God. This is our chance to appear before Him with contrite hearts. [bctt tweet="What He wants from you is your whole heart. // @dere_abbey"] What He wants from you is your whole heart. What will your response be? Abbey Dupuy writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four while relying on coffee and grace. You can find out more about her here.

I wrestle my way out of my coat, hat, neck gater, mittens, and snow pants. They fall wet and forgotten to the floor near the back door. I eagerly push my way into the kitchen, past the laundry and my siblings' other forgotten coats and boots to announce my big news: Yes, I have chicken pox! The doctor said so. Now I have to lay in bed and miss school and be with Mama all day long while itching everywhere. Before I could get any of it out of my pursed lips, my little brother tumbles down the back stairs and erupts: "Your imaginary friend Ben is now MY friend." He must have been five, maybe four years old. He already knew how to make my heart flop over. My first lesson in forgiveness, in forgiving an actual transgression, came that day. My imaginary friend Ben was my best friend. And that day, after my little brother proclaimed it to be thus, he took him over, and I never saw him again, or rather, never talked with him or imagined with him. On top of itching like h-e-double-hockey-sticks, my brother thieved away my bestie. I ran past him up the red shag carpeted steep stairs, down the hall past the closet Ben used to live in, to the bedroom I shared with my transgressing brother. Slamming the door had never felt so good. Later when my mom slipped in to apply Calamine lotion like sunscreen in July, she gently asked if I was ready to forgive my brother. Noper. That afternoon, that early evening, my mother's words opened my eyes. It was the first time I realized that the prayer we said in our family Rosary, the Our Father, actually meant I was supposed to forgive. It wasn't just a prayer about calling God my Father, or asking to "Give us this day our daily bread" like that ceramic bread serving dish my Grandma used on fancy occasions. God had given us this direct instruction: forgive as I forgive you. And He meant it. (My brother did apologize and I forgave him, but Ben was lost forever.) I still live out the struggle to forgive my four siblings, all of us grown up now. We're a tight-knit bunch, but lingering annoyances can fester into full-blown feuds if we don't apply that dose of forgiveness. Chewing over comments or what-that-text-meant can undermine the love I know we believe in living out for each other. Every single day, we're supposed to forgive and let that stuff GO. Jesus couldn't be more clear in today's Gospel. This is no hidden message in a parable about agrarian lords or sniveling servants. It's straight-up instructions, a challenge, a call. Can you heed it today? Can I? [bctt tweet="God had given us this direct instruction: forgive as I forgive you. // @wholeparenting"] What's hurting on your heart that you need to address and forgive? Even just to yourself or to God our Father in prayer? Maybe even to the person who's transgressing? Take a breath. Make the decision to forgive. Nell O'Leary is an attorney turned stay-at-home mom to four lovelies. She and her husband live in the great city of Saint Paul. You can find out more about her here.

In my adult life, I move quite a bit. In fourteen years, I've lived in six different places, five different states. Talk about being the new girl, right? I know a bit about how it feels to be a stranger. Yet through today's readings, the Holy Spirit is prodding me to dig into my heart and soul and push the limits of my comfort zone. He wants me to seek holiness and bring Christ deep into my soul. Those deep dark corners where grudges dwell, where angry, negative, resentful thoughts reside, where Love hasn't been welcomed yet. He wants me to see the people I've treated as strangers. The words in Leviticus: "You shall bear no hatred for your brother, take no revenge, cherish no grudge. . .love your neighbor as yourself," paired with the words of Jesus about welcoming the stranger have been working on my heart since I first read these readings together. I'm starting to understand that when Jesus talks about being the stranger who is given no welcome He's not only talking about the new girl in town. While we are called to welcome the stranger who we do not know, He's also talking about those near and dear who we can treat us like strangers when we're hurt. Am I possibly holding a grudge as I grumble about dirty socks left by the couch, groan about a project that's hard to wrap up with my kids, or gripe about a friend whose actions are bothering me? These negative thoughts can hurt my relationships by putting distance in my heart between myself and those nearest to me. If I let it continue, I make strangers out of them. Ouch! It stings when the Spirit sheds light in those dark corners, and it is hard to overcome that gap and know my loved ones again. Now is a perfect time to turn back to the Lord and seek healing, to ask the Holy Spirit for grace and courage to reach out to our loved ones, for the ability to love the person we've been distant from. [bctt tweet="Now is a perfect time to turn back to the Lord and seek healing."] "Let the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart find favor before you, O Lord." Let my thoughts not be resentful and filled with grudges. Let your healing graces change my heart, O Lord, so that I truly do welcome the stranger, love my neighbor, and meet You in every person near to me. Gina Fensterer is a wife, daughter, mother, friend, homeschooling mama and Colorado native. You can find out more about her here.

None of us have only one identity. At least, I don’t. I have numerous identities and they have evolved over time as I’ve grown and lived. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Goddaughter. Student. Athlete. Undergraduate. Roommate. Graduate. Wife. Mother. Dentist. Catholic. Sinner. Child of God. Sometimes I feel more rooted in only one of these; sometimes I feel like I am all of these at once. I am me. In all my internal mess—there dwells in me a complex and evolving person. Finding out who that person is, where she is going, and (most importantly) how she is serving our Lord—is what I strive for (and often fail at), daily. Today's Gospel shows Christ's deep confidence in His identity as Son of God, fully human but also fully Divine. While we struggle to know ourselves, and to grow closer to God, Christ was God from the very beginning. His identity is perfection personified. He is wholly, completely One with the Father. He does not have to sift through evolving personas or changing circumstances. He is the Lord, our God. Perfectly perfect. The only One who is. My prayer for you today, for me today, for all of us today—may we come closer to that one identity that is most important of all: daughter of Christ. May all of our other identities only bring us closer to the one that matters most. In whatever stage of life you are in and whatever vocation you’ve been called to, may it be in the service of Christ. [bctt tweet="Let's remember the identity that is most important of all: daughter of Christ. - @substance_soul"] Use your imperfections, passions, relationships, failures, virtues, and dreams to bring you closer to the One who is perfect. The One who has saved us all. Forever and ever. Amen. Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife, mom of two, and dentist currently living in The Bay Area, California. You can find out more about her here.

He left everything. All his riches, all his comforts. Just walked away from it without a second glance to follow a stranger. Can you even imagine trusting someone so implicitly, so unquestioningly, that you would drop your entire life to join their mission? I can't. I can only imagine clinging to my life with fear and anxiety in the face of Christ's truth, thinking of all the reasons why I can't give it up—at least not yet. Ironically, my “word” for this year is Truth. Truth and trust, they go hand in hand. The more I try to trust God's will and give up my guise of control, the more I realize how deeply rooted I am in fear and lack of trust. I want to trust—but I still don't want to give up what [I think] I want. Anxiety. Fear. Lack of trust. They're all born from the same lie, the lie that we have to have it all figured out, it's all up to us. That we’re the masters of our own destiny. That’s an insane amount of pressure. Day after day we consume the lie that we can’t trust the One knows us better than we know ourselves. Yes, we are the sick in need of the physician. We are sick with fear, wrought with decisions above our human paygrade. What compels us to reach for control again and again? What keeps us from trusting that God's plan for our life is better than ours? Fear. Then how can we trust in the face of fear? What is the antidote to this lie? Truth. Truth comes when we allow God into the darkness of our fears. When we name our fear the moment it occurs and intentionally give it to God, He waits to answer it with His Truth. We don't have to have it all figured out, sisters. [I'll say it again, for myself too.] We don't have to have it all figured out. That's not our job. Our job is to call out our fears and let Truth break down the walls that keep us from trusting the One who already has it figured out. [bctt tweet="Truth comes when we allow God into the darkness of our fears. // @PosImperfect"] Let us pray in the words of the Psalmist: “Teach me your way, O Lord, than I may walk in your Truth.” Help us trust You, Lord, as the One whose job it is to orchestrate our lives in a more brilliant, beautiful, and meaningful way than we could ever dream up. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife, mom, writer and sometimes soldier whose real passion is equal parts faith and chocolate. You can find out more about her here.

Today is the feast day of Saint Katharine Drexel, one of only two recognized American-born saints. I find her life fascinating, particularly in light of today’s readings. Katharine was born in Philadelphia in 1858 and raised as a young heiress. Although wealthy, her parents were known for their philanthropy and her family was active in helping the less fortunate. This same generous spirit lived in Katharine. She had a great love of God and neighbor, most especially for American Indians and African Americans. Her heart was moved by the plight of the underprivileged and victims of injustice. Katharine worked tirelessly helping—physically and financially—numerous missions in the United States. After her father’s death, Katharine and her two sisters met Pope Leo XIII and asked him to send some religious to the missions they were funding. He suggested that Katharine undertake the missionary work herself. After prayer and spiritual direction, Katharine decided to leave behind the marriage proposals and her life as an heiress and enter the religious life. Her decision sent shock waves through the social circles of Philadelphia. Katharine gave her life and her fortune to help others and founded the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, who were dedicated to working towards the betterment of American Indians and African Americans. What a profound example of the words of the First Reading! This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; Sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own. Katharine did more than just hear those words. She let them take root into her soul until they spurred her into action. I want to be like that! Too often something stirs in my heart and I feel moved to action but then I falter and my resolve dies away. Instead, I want to follow Katharine’s example. I want to hear the Lord’s words and bring them to life in my actions and my attitude. Lent is the perfect time to work on this together . . . to make our sacrifices and offerings to God works of mercy. We have daily opportunities to live it, whether we are dealing with a loved one, a child, a friend, a coworker, or a stranger. May we act with love, respect and mercy, especially this Lent. [bctt tweet="Lent is the perfect time to make our sacrifices to God works of mercy. // @bobbi_rol"] What act of mercy can you offer to God today? Bobbi Rol is a wife, a mama of four and a blogger learning to love God in the midst of dishes, laundry and swinging light sabers. You can find out more about her here.

There’s something heroic that happens when your toes converge with the edge of fear, when they graze the line between safety and all-out war. But it doesn’t feel that way, does it? That heroic moment get stifled underneath the “what ifs” and the unknowns and the second guesses. But you jump. You jump because you must. You jump because of the maybe. You jump because of Him. And you see nothing but dirt beneath your feet. You see nothing but the crash landing and the broken bones. But you jump, and sometimes that’s all it takes. “Take up [your] cross daily and follow me,” He says. And that’s it—that’s the moment fear grapples for your heart. Because that’s the moment we lose all control. That’s the moment we are called to jump after Him. And while you focus on the fall into the unknown, you forget that you might fly. You forget about the sun and the clouds and the breeze, because you see only the soil and the fear and the plummet. “. . . deny [yourself],” He says. That’s when you grasp even tighter to that ledge, fearing the uneasiness that follows such a difficult request. I have been on that ledge so many times, looking down at the steep drop into trust. But I see it so clearly now, how each plunge into the unknown landed us right where we were meant to be. I fought them all—the falls. When my toes brushed the edge of fear, they grasped so tightly to the safety of the dirt beneath them that they nearly developed permanent blisters. Looking back now I see that we had to fall. We had to fall deep into Him. Because each of those falls landed us in a specific place for a specific purpose. And though scary, I count it all worth it—all of the jumps, all of the fear, all of the unknowns. They were all worth it because they were all a part of God’s perfect plan. “Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure,” wrote Pope Saint John Paul II, and it’s an adventure worth taking. [bctt tweet="“Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure,” wrote Pope St. JPII // @iambritcal"] Jumping is scary. Do it anyway. Brittany Calavitta is an enthusiastic advocate for a good book, strong coffee, and a hopeful heart. She currently resides in Irvine, California with her hipster husband and overweight Chihuahua. You can find out more about her here.

Ash Wednesday First Reading: Joel 2:12-18 Even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment. Perhaps he will again relent and leave behind him a blessing, Offerings and libations for the LORD, your God. Blow the trumpet in Zion! proclaim a fast, call an assembly; Gather the people, notify the congregation; Assemble the elders, gather the children and the infants at the breast; Let the bridegroom quit his room and the bride her chamber. Between the porch and the altar let the priests, the ministers of the LORD, weep, And say, "Spare, O LORD, your people, and make not your heritage a reproach, with the nations ruling over them! Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'" Then the LORD was stirred to concern for his land and took pity on his people. Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6AB, 12-13, 14 AND 17 R. (see 3a) Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned. Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness; in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense. Thoroughly wash me from my guilt and of my sin cleanse me. R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned. For I acknowledge my offense, and my sin is before me always: "Against you only have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight." R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned. A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me. Cast me not out from your presence, and your Holy Spirit take not from me. R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned. Give me back the joy of your salvation, and a willing spirit sustain in me. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise. R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned. Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:20—6:2 Brothers and sisters: We are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him. Working together, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says: In an acceptable time I heard you, and on the day of salvation I helped you. Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation. Gospel: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 Jesus said to his disciples: "Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you. "When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you. "When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites. They neglect their appearance, so that they may appear to others to be fasting. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden. And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you." NAB The Lord is so good to us. I can't help but cringe when I read that line from Joel about His slow anger, His rich kindness. Who among us has not seethed with resentment over a slight—real or imagined—by a coworker, a boyfriend, a spouse? Has not jerked the wheel in anger, fired off the irate email in a fit of passion, or slammed the screen door just to feel the satisfying shudder against the doorframe? My impulse for action when I have been wronged is not to open my heart and let loose a torrent of mercy towards the offender. Perhaps a torrent of something, but not of mercy. How does our God maintain His steadfast love for us, His fickle, fallible children? How does He not grow weary of hearing our supplications ring out, our heads dusted again with ashes, as another year creaks by on the great liturgical wheel? Does He never tire of dispensing forgiveness? Inviting openness of heart and contrition of spirit? Love is funny that way, in refusing to count the cost. I've never thought before of that being anything more than big-hearted generosity, God's refusal to keep tabs, and it is of course that: generosity. But perhaps it is also a technique the Lord wants to show us, a method whereby we can stay sane and keep our hearts open in a world filled with people who are going to hurt us over and over again. And whom we will hurt in return. "Look at my heart." He beckons to us in this season of Lent. "It is broken for you. Soon, my body also. This is how I love you. See this love, partake of this love, and bestow it upon one another. Nothing less will do." [bctt tweet="Ask the Lord how you can best make a sacrifice...// @jkuebbing"] This Lent, don't give up chocolate. Don't set your alarm 15 minutes early. Not before asking Him what He wants from your heart. Ask Him how you can best make a sacrifice to become who He wants you to be. The fasting, prayer, and almsgiving of Lent are all for the sake of bring our whole selves, body and soul, closer to Him. Lent is about offering ourselves to God anew, asking Him to strip away the facade and, in His great mercy, to reveal to us those parts of ourselves that look the least like Him. Jenny Uebbing is a freelance editor and a writer for Catholic News Agency, where she blogs about faith, sex, the culture and the Catholic Church. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband Dave and their growing family.

Tuesday of the Eight Week in Ordinary Time First Reading: Sirach 35:1-12 To keep the law is a great oblation, and he who observes the commandments sacrifices a peace offering. In works of charity one offers fine flour, and when he gives alms he presents his sacrifice of praise. To refrain from evil pleases the LORD, and to avoid injustice is an atonement. Appear not before the LORD empty-handed, for all that you offer is in fulfillment of the precepts. The just one's offering enriches the altar and rises as a sweet odor before the Most High. The just one's sacrifice is most pleasing, nor will it ever be forgotten. In a generous spirit pay homage to the LORD, be not sparing of freewill gifts. With each contribution show a cheerful countenance, and pay your tithes in a spirit of joy. Give to the Most High as he has given to you, generously, according to your means. For the LORD is one who always repays, and he will give back to you sevenfold. But offer no bribes, these he does not accept! Trust not in sacrifice of the fruits of extortion. For he is a God of justice, who knows no favorites. Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 50:5-6, 7-8, 14 AND 23 R. (23b) To the upright I will show the saving power of God. "Gather my faithful ones before me, those who have made a covenant with me by sacrifice." And the heavens proclaim his justice; for God himself is the judge. R. To the upright I will show the saving power of God. "Hear, my people, and I will speak; Israel, I will testify against you; God, your God, am I. Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you, for your burnt offerings are before me always." R. To the upright I will show the saving power of God. "Offer to God praise as your sacrifice and fulfill your vows to the Most High. He that offers praise as a sacrifice glorifies me; and to him that goes the right way I will show the salvation of God." R. To the upright I will show the saving power of God. Gospel: Mark 10:28-31 Peter began to say to Jesus, 'We have given up everything and followed you." Jesus said, "Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come. But many that are first will be last, and the last will be first." NAB I recently witnessed a conversation between some faithful Catholic women about giving—how much is expected? What if we can’t afford anything? How can we say that God will repay us sevenfold if we’re not even able to pay our bills? If you haven’t been in the position of counting every cent and coming up short for basics, it might be hard to imagine. If you have been there, you know the deep sadness of wanting to give but not being able to do it. Even the best budget planner can’t create something out of nothing. As a child, I put ten cents from my weekly dollar allowance in the offering plate. We had small envelopes to bring our personal offerings. I felt so grown up putting my dime in and sealing it up. The greatest joy, though, was decorating my envelope. The first time I drew flowers and smiley faces all over it, I thought I was going to be in trouble, but my mom smiled and said it was “nice.” I embellished the envelopes each week, adding artwork from Bible stories or writing little notes to the people who counted the money. Maybe the effort I put into my artwork was worth something. Today’s First Reading lists many ways to give back to God: observing God’s law, performing works of charity, giving alms, avoiding injustice, refraining from evil, paying homage, giving freewill gifts, our sacrifices of praise. While most of us think immediately of financial giving, there are many other ways to give. Maybe you have time to be on a committee or help clean up after Mass. Maybe you can volunteer in the church nursery or make food for funerals. Maybe, if you have neither time nor money, you can offer up your daily trials on behalf of someone else who is struggling. When Saint Peter tells Jesus that he has given up everything to follow Him, Jesus doesn’t pretend that the decision is without cost. Following Jesus is hard sometimes, and giving is a struggle. In times of difficulty, though, we trust that God will provide for us, even if we can’t see exactly how that will happen. [bctt tweet="To show God just how much we love Him...// @dere_abbey"] Remember, God doesn’t need anything we can give. He already has everything. Our giving is our way of expressing our devotion to Him. To show God just how much we love Him, how much more can we find to give? Abbey Dupuy writes her life as a homeschooling mama of four while relying on coffee and grace. You can find out more about her here.

Monday of the Eight Week in Ordinary Time First Reading: Sirach 17:20-24 To the penitent God provides a way back, he encourages those who are losing hope and has chosen for them the lot of truth. Return to him and give up sin, pray to the LORD and make your offenses few. Turn again to the Most High and away from your sin, hate intensely what he loathes, and know the justice and judgments of God, Stand firm in the way set before you, in prayer to the Most High God. Who in the nether world can glorify the Most High in place of the living who offer their praise? Dwell no longer in the error of the ungodly, but offer your praise before death. No more can the dead give praise than those who have never lived; You who are alive and well shall praise and glorify God in his mercies. How great the mercy of the LORD, his forgiveness of those who return to him! Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 32:1-2, 5, 6, 7 R. (11a) Let the just exult and rejoice in the Lord. Blessed is he whose fault is taken away, whose sin is covered. Blessed the man to whom the LORD imputes not guilt, in whose spirit there is no guile. R. Let the just exult and rejoice in the Lord. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, my guilt I covered not. I said, "I confess my faults to the LORD," and you took away the guilt of my sin. R. Let the just exult and rejoice in the Lord. For this shall every faithful man pray to you in time of stress. Though deep waters overflow, they shall not reach him. R. Let the just exult and rejoice in the Lord. You are my shelter; from distress you will preserve me; with glad cries of freedom you will ring me round. R. Let the just exult and rejoice in the Lord. Gospel: Mark 10:17-27 As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus answered him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and your mother." He replied and said to him, "Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, "You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." At that statement, his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions. Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the Kingdom of God!" The disciples were amazed at his words. So Jesus again said to them in reply, "Children, how hard it is to enter the Kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God." They were exceedingly astonished and said among themselves, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus looked at them and said, "For men it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God." NAB When this young man approaches Jesus, he asks a powerful question: "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" At the root of his question is a form of the ultimate questions that my heart has wrestled with. What is the meaning of life? What is my purpose on this earth? How do I come to know it? How do I find true, lasting happiness? Do I really have worth? This is a young man deeply seeking for the truth to these questions. And so he comes to Jesus. The most powerful part of this story to me lies in these next six words: "Jesus, looking at him, loved him." It is actually the only time in the Gospel of Mark where Jesus is said to have looked on an individual with love. This deep look of love is the power that transforms lives. This loving gaze is what would have captured this man's heart and moved him to surrender and give up all for Jesus—if he had seen it. But sadly, he couldn't see that in the gaze of Jesus. We know how the story ends. The young man walks away sad when Jesus says what He must do to inherit eternal life. I always have wondered what happened to him as time passed. Did he ever change his mind? Was he able to let go of all the things that held him back in giving all to Jesus? We will never know. But I know Jesus never stopped loving that young man. Jesus never stopped believing in his potential. Even though this young man was unable to respond with his entire life to Jesus, I don't think Jesus ever gave up on him. And so it is with us, my sisters. Even when we royally screw up or make bad, sinful choices, Jesus never gives up on us. He never stops believing in our potential. He never stops cheering us on to be the women He knows He has created us to be. And that promise is something we can rejoice in each new day. Even when we don't believe in ourselves, we have a loving Father Who never stops believing in us. [bctt tweet="He never stops believing in our potential. "] Take some time today to spend in stillness. Allow the loving gaze of Jesus to settle you where you feel unsure. His gaze is where we find our true identity. 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.