It was the adventure of a lifetime. Six breathtaking days up the slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro, starting first in lush rainforests and along crystal clear streams of snow melt, and ending (far, far above the trees) at the perilous edge of a dormant volcano. My heart cherishes many memories, but this trip was one for the books. Our climbing team embarked from base camp a little after midnight on day six, hoping to officially reach summit by sunrise. In those first hours, the only lights to guide me were the campfires hundreds of feet below me, and the dim light of my meagre headlamp in front of me. The irony was not lost on me that I was quite literally trekking up Africa's tallest and most picturesque mountain in utter darkness. After five days on the trail my legs had started to tingle with signs of oxygen deprivation. It was the middle of the night, I was spent, and I so wanted to quit. And yet up I went, stumbling over rocks and reciting rosary prayers on my mittened fingers, urged on by the thought that the summit just had to be close. When I think about the perseverance of Saint James (see James 1:1-11), I think about that mountain I climbed so many years ago. I think about how God urged me on with the beauty of delicate mountain flowers, curious colobus monkeys, and knee-bending ethereal blue glaciers. I think about the sheer relief that flowed through my body when the summit finally came into my field of vision. My perseverance hadn't always been perfect and at times was far from joyful, but He still came to my aid. Every time. These days, I don't climb many 20,000-foot mountains. Living at 800 feet above sea level with my perfectly ordinary office gig and perfectly ordinary home life might seem to pale in comparison to those gutsy mountaineering days. But no matter the circumstance I know He still calls me to perfect perseverance. What's your summit today, Sisters? Let's climb together. [bctt tweet="My perseverance hadn't always been perfect and at times was far from joyful, but He still came to my aid. // Karen Schultz" username="blessedisshe__"] Maybe your summit is coming on retreat with Blessed is She sisters. Find one near you today. 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. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia. You can find out more about her here.

Another late night phone call, going back and forth over what the Church teaches on this and that it ended where it usually did. He asked me, “Well, why don’t you read up on it?” It wasn’t a tearful encounter in the Mass, or a deeply moving talk, or a song that drew me back to the Church. For as highly emotional of a person I am, it was surprising to me that God drew me closer to Him through books and study. While I treasure in my heart those spiritual consolations of sweet tenderness with the Lord, they wouldn’t have happened without my head leading me there. I read my way back to the Truth. In my early twenties, I very seriously wrestled with big—and common—issues people have with Church teaching. Providentially, I had a good friend point me to a few texts on apologetics, and I devoured them. I craved the knowledge the Church had preserved and offered to the faithful. I read anything I could get my hands on. Finally, I reached a point where I was able to see that yes, indeed, the Catholic Church was right about this one very big issue, and I could trust her to be right about other things as well. It wasn’t the last time I would struggle with the Church, but I have been able to return to the practice of reading, praying, and asking the Spirit to guide my eyes and mind and heart to the truth of Christ. Jesus told His disciples that He came to fulfill the law, and in doing so illuminated the truth held in the Scriptures. He did it then, and thanks to the deposit of Faith, the Church still provides this for us today. I would encourage you to take time to study our Faith and pray this simple prayer offered by the psalmist in today’s Responsorial Psalm: “Open my eyes, that I may consider the wonders of your law.” [bctt tweet="I read my way back to the Truth. // @jacquiskemp" username="blessedisshe__"] A wonderful book to have on hand with answer to almost all questions about Church dogma? This one. Jacqueline Skemp is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother who endures living in Minnesota after leaving California for her one true love. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

I have been troubled by the same question that burdens many women, “Am I enough?” This question seeps into our hearts, oftentimes as a result of a culture that endlessly demands more of us. We are led to believe that simplicity is somehow equivalent to inadequacy, that weakness is unappealing, and that strength is solely measured by productivity. However, the miracle of loaves and fishes reveals to us in a very tangible way the truth. Today’s Gospel (Mark 8:1-10) reveals to us what Christ does with our remnants, with our littleness, and with our aching hunger as we wait to be filled by Our Savior. Jesus asks His disciples, “How many loaves do you have?” After the disciples give Him all they have left, He takes it, breaks it, and multiples it. In the hands of Christ, a meager offering is transformed into a plentiful feast that feeds four thousand precious souls. Therefore, I ask you, dear sister, to humbly hand Jesus all that you have whenever you wonder if you are enough. When your journey to holiness is hidden in ordinary life, hidden in immeasurable acts of immense love, think of them as your small basket of loaves and fishes. Hand the Lord every hesitant email, uncomfortable phone call, difficult meeting, washed dish, swept floor, and soothed child. Hand the Lord every tired bone in your body, every overwhelmed tear that has slid down your cheek, and every perceived failure. Give Him every portion and say, “This is what I have, Lord.” He will take your offering and multiply it. He will take your offering and perform miracles. [bctt tweet="In the hands of Christ, a meager offering is transformed. // Leana Bowler" username="blessedisshe__"] This painting of the Scripture explores humanity and many layers of creativity. Leana Bowler is a wife and mother of five little ones. She is a Holy Rosary enthusiast with deep devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Her love for the message of Divine Mercy led her to become a Marian Missionary of Divine Mercy dedicated to spreading Marian Consecration and the beauty of Christ's abundant Mercy. She enjoys finding the miracles in the mess of family life, books, strong coffee, and encountering others wherever they're at in this blessed journey to sainthood. You can find out more about her here.

I gazed out at idyllic sweeping meadows and the soaring Alps above me, almost convinced I'd been dropped in the Sound of Music instead of a summer internship—save for my hot indignation at the letter in my hand. I'd broken up with my new boyfriend the month before, finally ready to admit that I needed a breather from dating. His response wove its way through global airmail to find me here, the only plausible reason he could fathom for my decision an accusation: "So, who's the other guy?" This is what I get for more intentional time with You? I sighed into the Lord's glorious creation. Still, I couldn't really blame my ex. I was that girl who always had a boyfriend or was attaching myself to a friend group. I ran constantly after others to answer my longing for love, whether it was romance or friendship. I'd spent years building an idol out of my expectation that other people needed to fulfill my deepest desires. But no matter how many boys or shallow friends I collected, the longing grew. Now, halfway through college, I finally understood that real love required seeking first and foremost the One Whom I was in relationship with: my Creator. No human being is perfect as Our Lord is perfect; therefore, no human can (or should) fulfill every desire we have. No person, even a best friend or spouse, can be the sole answer to making us happy or answering our every need. That's God's job. God creates us first for relationship with Him. From this flows the fulfillment of all our desires. From this flows our ability to connect more authentically in community and relationship as He designed. The deeper and more intentional our relationship with God, the more contented our hearts will be. The better our relationship with each other can be. Yes, every single one of our longings begins and ends with God. Today, on a day that often proclaims the opposite, let us pray Christ's own words: “Ephatha—be opened!” (Mark 7:34) that we may truly open our hearts to the greatest, most healing, most fulfilling Love of all. [bctt tweet="No human being is perfect as Our Lord is perfect; therefore, no human can (or should) fulfill every desire we have. // @PosImperfect" username="blessedisshe__"] Take some time before the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and pray for this peace and opening today. Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. She is the Stories Manager for the Blessed is She Instagram account. She’s a bibliophile, tea drinker, sleep lover, and avid admirer of Colorado’s great outdoors. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.

I am not sure if you have had the chance to Taylor Swift’s most recent album, Lover, but there is one particularly disturbing track entitled "False God." It basically entails Swift proclaiming that even if her relationship is a false god, she will continue to worship it. When I first listened to it, I was taken aback by how explicitly she glorifies this relationship, even though she admits she knows it’s a false god. I was reminded of that feeling as I read today’s First Reading (1 Kings 11:4-13) where we see Solomon is worshipping and building high places for his idols. There is something so vivid and personal about this betrayal, as we know from Scripture that Solomon was wise and zealous for the Lord. In fact, we know that the Lord appeared to Solomon twice before this and forbade him from idol worship. Yet, Solomon follows his wives in burning incense and making sacrifices, a public manifestation of his reservation towards God, even though he knows His presence intimately. Sisters, I have recently felt like I witness this story unfold every day. In music like "False God," in the lives of women I love, and even in the lives of women I do not know, I wonder how we have come to romanticize our own self-destruction. How do we, like Solomon, end up building altars for idols that we know leave us disappointed? The antidote to my discouragement is that I worship the Jesus of today’s Gospel: the Nazarene, the Messiah, the One Who drives out demons. Everything changes when I remember He has power over all the falsehood and darkness in the world, and that He delights in saving us. My heart is consoled when I remember He is the King of Kings. There is no chain that He cannot break and no captivity He could not rescue us from. And there is truly no idol too strong for our God, the only worthy One. [bctt tweet="How do we, like Solomon, end up building altars for idols that we know leave us disappointed? // Sarah Elizabeth" username="blessedisshe__"] Pray with us today: Lord, we entrust this to You. Like David, may our hearts be entirely with You and for You. Sarah Elizabeth is a politics pre-law major at the Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. Born and raised in Arizona, she finds great joy in mountains, lattes, American history, and the piano. She is constantly discovering Christ's wild love in the little things.

I sit sipping coffee on the couch of a friend. We get caught up on each other's kids, our husbands' jobs, and what new shows we've been watching. There's a story I want to tell about a mutual acquaintance, but I've made up my mind not to tell it. There are plenty of other things to talk about without resorting to gossip. After a while the conversation lags, I listen to the clock ticking on the wall, and drain the last of the coffee from my mug. Well, maybe there's a way to tell the story without saying anything mean. After all, what's the harm in sharing an amusing anecdote? I start to speak, choosing my words carefully at first. But Pandora's Box has been opened. What starts as humor turns into harshness, and before I know it, I've committed the sin I just promised myself I wouldn't. The enemy looks for easy entry points into our lives. Most of the time it’s not the “big” sins that tempt us, it’s the “little” ones. A quick temper toward my children, a curt response to my husband, or a white lie to a friend may seem like not that big of a deal. But all of these little things we do and say actually matter a lot. Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “The things that come out from within are what defile” (Mark 7:15). So what exactly is coming out of me? Kind words or cruel gossip? Acts of self-giving or selfishness? Peace or anger? A quick recap of the last 24 hours convicts me that I am in need of repentance, and makes me extra grateful for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The things that we do and say matter. Our words and actions, even the small ones, can lead us to either holiness or to sin. Let’s ask the Holy Spirit to give us the grace and courage to choose holiness today and every day. [bctt tweet="The enemy looks for easy entry points into our lives. // Anna Coyne" username="blessedisshe__"] Listen to this sequence of "Come, Holy Spirit." Anna Coyne is a wife, mother, and convert to the Catholic Faith. She is a classically trained pianist who, after teaching for ten years now stays home with her three young children. but still manages to flex her creative muscles through writing, knitting, and gardening. She is proud to call Saint Paul home and loves everything about living in Minnesota, except for winter. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

My eyes were blurry with tears and my heart ached as I typed out the date in my email: February 11th. It was the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes and for years it had been a special day for me. However, on this day, within the early years of my marriage, it was bringing me no joy. Instead, I was pleading with God, echoing today’s First Reading, “Look kindly on the prayer and petition of your servant, O LORD, my God, and listen to the cry of supplication which I, your servant, utter before you this day” (1 Kings 8:28). We were trying to have a second child, and, after many months of failure, we finally conceived and were expecting a precious new life. We were overjoyed! However, a week before my first prenatal appointment, I started to bleed. Eventually, our child was lost to miscarriage. The following day, on February 11th, I typed an email to my family and friends who were concerned about us and our situation. It read in part: “I’d often read of saints or holy people speak of suffering as a blessing, but I couldn’t understand how that could be possible. I’m far from holy, but I think I’ve gotten a tiny taste of what that means. Pondering over my life, I’ve been granted tremendous mercy and grace and now God has finally given me the chance to truly make an offering of love to Him. Placing our child back into God’s hands is my way of being able to show God that I appreciate all His blessings and I trust in His goodness, in both the good and sorrowful times. However, before you praise my ‘strength,’ know that it is not me. Left to my own devices, I’d be a wailing drama queen. I know firmly that it’s the grace of God, particularly those received through your prayers. God is present and comforting me everywhere I turn.” Although this email was written over a decade ago, the sentiment still remains. Even in sorrow and weakness, God can transform and strengthen, for God is good. All the time. Wherever you are in your journey of dealing with suffering, He is not far from you, sister. [bctt tweet="I’m far from holy, but I think I’ve gotten a tiny taste of what that means. // @bobbi_rol" username="blessedisshe__"] This prayer to Our Lady of Lourdes is a beautiful one to pray today. Bobbi Rol is a wife, mama and blogger living on the Monterey Bay in CA with her husband, teen daughter, and three rambunctious boys. When she is not dodging light sabers or stepping on Legos, she can be found outside with her family, catching a late night movie, or decorating her planner. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

When I read today’s Gospel (Mark 6:53-56) about how needy people follow Jesus wherever He goes, I often find myself nodding in recognition. I know how that feels, Jesus. It happens before school, when I’m at deep at work in my quiet classroom and a student enters with a pressing need. It happens at home, when I’m trying to write or grade and my kids interrupt me for help with their math homework. Even escaping to a nearby café means interruptions, like the person who asks me to watch their laptop while they use the bathroom. It’s hard to handle these moments graciously. When you’re in the zone of some activity or project, it’s a wrench to be unceremoniously pulled out of it by another person’s needs. But, as many wise people have observed, these interruptions aren’t a break from life; these interruptions ARE life. They are not pulling me away from my work; they ARE my work. As a teacher, mom, wife, neighbor, these moments are the vocation itself. Each interruption is an opportunity to respond as God would. And while I tend to identify with Jesus in this Gospel, in reality, I’m more like the needy people hounding Him. I interrupt my husband’s work with a question about why my computer won’t work; my supervisor spends his whole lunch period strategizing with me on how to handle a thorny classroom situation; I call the doctor’s office multiple times because I really need that test result now. I’m as needy as anyone else. Funny how I forget that. [bctt tweet="These interruptions aren’t a break from life; these interruptions ARE life. // Ginny Kubitz Moyer" username="blessedisshe__"] Pray with us today: may I always be grateful for those who do the Jesus thing, who patiently put aside their own work to deal with my crises. May I have the grace and love—and the will—to do the same. Ginny Kubitz Moyer is a mother, high school English teacher, and BBC period drama junkie. She is the author of three books, including Taste and See: Experiencing the Goodness of God with Our Five Senses and Random MOMents of Grace: Experiencing God in the Adventures of Motherhood. Ginny lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, two boys, and about thirty thousand Legos. She is the author of our Blessed Conversations: The Seven Sacraments found here. You can find out more about her here.

Growing up, I was scared of the dark. I would bound upstairs like a gazelle from the basement after turning the lights off because I did not like being in the dark. The bedroom shared with my little sister featured a ceramic night light of the Blessed Mother with a crown of pink roses on her head. I still remember seeing the glow at night before rolling over and starting to fall asleep. What is it about the dark for little children that feels scary sometimes? The words of Scripture from each of the readings today discuss and cause us to reflect upon the images of light and darkness. In today's Gospel (Matthew 5:13-16), Jesus uses a parable once again to make a point. No, He is not talking about seasoning or a random basket lying around your house, although He cares about the tiniest details of our lives. It is a reminder to His disciples back then, but to all of us now. Our lives need to be salty and full of flavor! Our lives need to be a bright light set on the lamp stand! These are images for how Jesus desires how His followers should live out in the world, whether in ancient Rome or your typical suburban community. Our words, actions, attitudes, and perspectives need to be formed by how Jesus lived and what He taught. The way Jesus lived should impact every area of our lives and should help us to be full of flavor and with the brightness of the Good News. Are there areas you need more flavor of the richness of the Good News? Where do you need to come out of the darkness and into the light? Discard the baskets. Pick up a flashlight and grab your seasoning. Jesus asks this of us, and our world needs you. [bctt tweet="Our lives need to be a bright light set on the lamp stand! // @amoderngrace" username="blessedisshe__"] Have you caught these short sermons from this renown scholar? Patty Breen is a full-time lay minister who finds joy in running, strong cups of coffee, and all things Ignatian spirituality. A Midwestern gal from the mitten state, she is constantly learning to find grace in all things. She is passionate about ministry, writing, a great lipstick color, and smiling is her favorite. Find out more about her here.

As I write, I’m sitting in a waiting room, again. More lumps, more biopsies. I’m thinking, “Jesus, You’ve seen my schedule. I don’t have time for this.” In my heart, I sense Him laughing at me and saying, “Oh donkey”—one of His pet names for me—“I do love you.” My Shepherd is always with me. Hands down the most compelling definition of “wisdom” I’ve read comes from Father John Wickham who says: “It is the Christian community which ‘holds’ the risen Lord in its depths and retells the story of his life” (source). This is wisdom: holding the risen Christ in my heart and retelling His story. It bears asking, how “wise” am I? Sitting in the waiting rooms of life, I am quick to hold the suffering Jesus in the depths of my heart, but how well do I hold the risen Jesus there, retelling the story of His life and resurrection? How consistently do I measure everything that’s going on in my life against the mysterious reality of the Resurrection of the body—His body, and one day, my body? Facing the mighty challenge of his position, Solomon didn’t ask for things to be made easier, he asked for an understanding heart (see 1 Kings 3:9). To attain this, Father Wickham suggests that we “need to commune ‘reflectively’ [with God’s word]—that is, like mirrors catching reflections from an interior Source of light—in order to know and be more fully transformed by the wisdom of Jesus” (source). I want to take ownership of God’s Word, and, more importantly, to allow the Word to take ownership of me. And when I do, it settles on me like a warm blanket: I am never without a Shepherd. Not in the biopsy room or in traffic, not in the strain or turmoil of life nor in its peace and joys. He is moved with pity for me and teaches me many things. [bctt tweet="My Shepherd is always with me. // Liz Kelly" username="blessedisshe__"] Let us pray today: Jesus, take pity on me. Teach me Your statutes that I may hold them in the depths of my heart. With all my heart I seek You, always I desire to hold You, risen, the conqueror of my sin, my death. Liz Kelly is a jazz singer who fell in love with Jesus. She writes, teaches, offers spiritual direction and retreats with a special interest in helping women to flourish in their faith. She’s written six books, including the award-winning Jesus Approaches, the Jesus Approaches Take Home Retreat, and the Your Heart, His Home Prayer Companion. And she still sings jazz, but mainly in the tub and while washing dishes. Find out more about her here.

I pray daily, hourly even. Cultivating this habit has taken years, sprouting more from sufferings than from joy and gratitude. Nights spent awake with sick family, long weeks wondering when my husband would be home from an unexpected work trip, and gut-wrenching seasons of heartbreak brought me to my knees. I clung to the only thing that gave me hope: prayer. I didn’t always know what to say. Sometimes I still don’t. What should I ask for from the Lord? How do I praise Him? And how do I listen? I’m still learning to pray. The Lord invites me to praise and thank Him in all things. He’s asking me to be vulnerable in prayer, to lean into trust, and to take action. Usually that is as simple as offering the next task: “Jesus I trust in You. Let this be for your glory.” And then I do the next best thing. Sometimes I see clearly how God answers me, and sometimes not. While reading about David, I noticed that his actions were like prayer “he offered thanks and praise with every deed” (see Sirach 48:8). In David, I see trust in the Lord and action flowing from trust in His graces. I see David staying in the Lord’s presence by offering everything in praise and thanksgiving. I see a life of prayer in action. This is how I’m growing in constant prayer, too. Jesus, come to my assistance. Guide me in my conversations. Help me encourage my children and respond with grace to my friend. Thank You for the strength to run. I offer this for those who are ill, for their healing and endurance in suffering. Make my work pleasing to You. Thank You for the skills and talents You’ve given me. May I use them for Your glory. Fill me with your life, wisdom, love. I offer my joy. Sorrow. Struggles. Victory. For You, Jesus, I do the chores and each task that comes. To You I surrender my fear and insecurities. Walk this life with me, Lord. Be glorified in all that I do. Amen. [bctt tweet="The Lord invites me to praise and thank Him in all things. // Gina Fensterer" username="blessedisshe__"] Download this life-changing book and discover how you can practice being present to God each and every moment. Gina Fensterer finds daily life to be perfect for practicing virtue and sometimes blogs about raising up saints (she has six children). She loves the Jesus prayer, long runs, and coffee at any time of day. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

The doctors told the hospital chaplain that our son would not live for long. With tenderness, Monsignor offered to confirm our baby boy who laid sedated and intubated in the NICU crib. In offering to confirm our baby, Monsignor was offering to give our son every grace needed for our son to die a holy death. Through the holy Sacraments that Jesus Christ gave His Church, the hospital chaplain was helping us to usher our son to Heaven. In today's Gospel, Jesus tells His disciples what to do for their evangelization trips (see Mark 6:7-13). Our Lord is specific in what they should and should not take, and what they should do and say. He prepares them for the journey but knows that they will be cared for when they arrive at their destinations. So it is for us as we journey through life. God has given us the Church and Her Sacraments, and with them we have everything we require to bring us to Heaven. If we choose to accept His help, Our Lord provides every grace needed to die holy deaths at the end of holy lives so that we, too, may be warmly greeted when we arrive at our destination. In 1 Kings 2:10, Scripture tells us, “David rested with his ancestors,” and that phrase brings such peace to my heart. Our son did not die, but nine years later I can still become teary eyed when I think about the way that the Church cared for my son and prepared him to rest in peace. In God’s perfect timing and through His grace may we all, some day, rest in His joyful peace in Heaven. [bctt tweet="He prepares them for the journey but knows that they will be cared for when they arrive at their destinations. // @BonnieEngstrom" username="blessedisshe__"] Read through an overview of the Sacraments in the Catechism and refresh yourself on what the Church teaches. Bonnie Engstrom is a writer, baker, speaker, and homemaker. She lives with her husband and eight children in Illinois. Bonnie is the author of "61 Minutes to a Miracle" which tells the story of her son's miracle that was approved by Pope Francis for the beatification of Venerable Fulton Sheen. She likes to bake, putz about the yard, and tell her kids to tidy the house. She is the author of the Blessed Conversations Mystery: Believe study found here. You can find out more about her here.

As we journey through the Gospel of Mark this week, we read accounts of Jesus’ travels on the Sea of Galilee. The mighty deeds of Jesus brought glory to the Father as He dispelled the demons from a man who was bound, healed the woman with hemorrhages, and said, "Talitha koum" to the little girl. One of the greatest mysteries of the Incarnation is that Jesus is both God and Man. We often associate Jesus with His extraordinary deeds. It is important to hold these together with the reality that Jesus also lived an ordinary life. Jesus had a home in Nazareth, a Holy Family, and a synagogue nearby where He read and prayed. In today’s Gospel, Jesus decided to go home to Nazareth. It probably was a twelve-hour walking journey with His disciples. Jesus grew up in a place where everybody knew everybody, for better or for worse. Saint Mark describes how Jesus began teaching in the synagogue in Nazareth and the people were surprised by His wisdom (see Mark 6:1-6). Saint Mark tells that that Jesus "was amazed at their lack of faith" (Mark 6:6) and "not able to perform any mighty deed there" (Mark 6:5). These people were baffled at the extraordinary in the ordinary. I look at my life and the ordinary tasks filling my day: talking, listening, working, shopping, cooking, eating, cleaning, helping, praying, and sleeping. In these ordinary places, there have been extraordinary encounters with Jesus. I have been surprised by His presence through a conversation with a friend, the unexpected kindness of a stranger, and the Scripture verse that leapt off the page. In the ordinary, Jesus sees a soul marked with faith, and He chooses to perform mighty deeds. Sisters, Jesus wants to journey to your home today. Jesus is eager to be with you, and He is looking forward to your hospitality. What is the mighty deed that you desire Jesus to do in your life? As you spend time with Jesus today, listen to Him, and let Him be amazed by your faith. [bctt tweet="Jesus sees a soul marked with faith, and He chooses to perform mighty deeds. // Rose Coleman" username="blessedisshe__"] Read up on what the gift of faith is over here. 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. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up and the author of our Blessed Conversations: Ways to Pray study found here. You can find out more about her here.

The waves were big and powerful. My arms were worn out from paddling so hard, and my heart beat fast in fear. I was stuck in the impact zone. Every time I covered a little distance, another huge wave broke on top of me, pushing me back even farther towards the shore. By the time I made it to the outside, I was already throughly exhausted, though now it was time to surf. I was grateful for the presence of my surf coach. The walls of water swelled in height as my stomach tightened and I held my breath in scared anticipation. Reminding me to breathe, she instructed me to paddle hard into the next wave. The experience was exhilarating. In so little a period of time, all the components came together and I popped up, riding my longboard down the line with sheer speed, greater coordination and experiencing so much joy. Paddling back out, I took a moment before taking another wave. Tears came to my eyes as I remembered my years of illness, the countless doctors, and the rollercoaster of extreme weakness and incapacity to do much of anything beginning when I was twelve years old. And now, to experience strength in my body that I didn't know I had, to overcome fear, and to be surrounded by the magnificence of God's beauty and creation out on the ocean, filled my heart with emotion and deep gratitude. “Talitha koum . . . . Little girl, I say to you, arise!” (Mark 5:41) Little by little, over time, God had been raising me up, and until that experience in the strong waves of Costa Rica, a part of me had not realized the extent of the healing God had already given to me. Take a moment today to ponder a space in your life where God has already raised you up and brought you healing and new life. Consider how you can take some time to celebrate what God has done for you. [bctt tweet="Little by little, over time, God had been raising me up. // Mary Catherine Craige" username="blessedisshe__"] This in-depth look at prayers for healing from the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith is informative. Mary Catherine Craige enjoys spending her time dancing, writing, playing the Irish harp and surfing the waves of northeast Florida. As a transformational life coach, she supports strong women to create beauty out of challenging situations and to live a life of abundance, freedom and joy as the person God has created them to be. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

I’m not someone who enjoys a creepy horror movie depicting the seemingly ordinary and unsuspecting main character who battles for deliverance from the oppression of deadly demonic forces. But the scene from today’s Gospel reading (Mark 5:1-20) is nothing like a Hollywood horror film intended to frighten and thrill. It portrays a clear demonstration of Jesus’ power, authority, and decisive victory over the very real and destructive forces of sin and Satan within us. The Gerasenes territory was an eerie Gentile place populated with burial caves and regarded as a favorite hangout of demons. As soon as Jesus steps ashore, He’s met by a man possessed by unclean spirits who experiences unbearable torment, violence, and alienation. No human efforts to restrain this evil power has worked. But the strength of Legion is no match for the Son of God who binds Satan and sets this man free, transforming him to a state of peace, dignity, and gratitude. Jesus then commissions this man to tell others what God has done for him. I can’t quite relate to this man’s extreme bondage, but this display of divine power and merciful love evokes some serious personal reflection. In what areas of my life am I not fully alive, but instead “living among the tombs of the dead”? Do I believe that Jesus has the power and the desire to radically transform my life, and do I desperately want to be free? Am I ready and willing to bring to Jesus the interior struggles that keep me bound and chained, or am I driving Him away out of fear and self-reliance? Do I see myself as Jesus does—clothed with His mercy and righteousness—or am I covered with shame and self-loathing? And finally, do I respond to Jesus with gratitude and devotion, eager to proclaim to others all that He has done for me? [bctt tweet="Do I see myself as Jesus does? // @bloverevolution" username="blessedisshe__"] Let us sit in reflection over these questions today, sisters. Ask the Holy Spirit to make clear to you how you can grow in this area. Debra Herbeck, a Jewish convert to the Church, has worked extensively in youth and women’s ministry. She has directed Pine Hills Girls Camp for the past 32 years, is the founder and Director of the Be Love Revolution, and also helps lead a ministry called i.d.916. She has written a number of books that can be found here. Debra and her husband Peter live in Ann Arbor, Michigan and are the parents of four children and five adorable grandchildren. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia.

When I became a godmother for the first time, upon dressing my newborn goddaughter, we realized the store had failed to remove the ink-filled sensor tag. We rushed to the store, through the icy streets and snow, only to find it still closed. The parents were horrified that the priest and guests may think we were baptizing the child in a stolen garment. Every weekend babies are baptized, and frequently our thoughts are fluttering around some sort of earthly issue instead of the Sacrament itself. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could approach each of the Sacraments and the days we receive them with less concern for the temporal parts of the day, allowing ourselves to focus on the sacred? How often do we race to Mass, stressed because we didn’t leave adequate time? Or worried that our clothes don’t flatter our figure? How often do we approach a special Sacrament of a loved one with bitterness because we were not selected as the bridesmaid, or sponsor, or godparent? How often our thoughts are stuck on us and how others may perceive us, rather than on the reality that we are experiencing Christ the King? As I pondered the Gospel from Luke today (Luke 2:22-40), I couldn’t help but think of the years leading up to the presentation of Jesus in the temple. I think of all the Jewish families who brought their babies to the temple. I think of them scraping money together for the sacrifice and planning the celebration afterwards. I wonder if Simeon watched these families bustle in, some prayerful, joyful, reverent, but perhaps others distracted or disengaged from the ritual. I think of the Holy Family, and how their entrance must have been different than all the rest. Anna and Simeon were both moved by the Holy Spirit and declared this infant as their King. Today, let us open our eyes and recognize the King in our own midst. [bctt tweet="How often our thoughts are stuck on us and how others may perceive us, rather than on the reality that we are experiencing Christ the King? // Dr. MaryRuth Hackett" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn a little more about the Canticle of Simeon here. Dr. MaryRuth Hackett is the host of the podcast Parenting Smarts. She loves historical fiction, dark chocolate, watching her children play soccer, a good cup of coffee (decaf please) and the quiet of the early morning. She holds a PhD in Educational Psychology and has a passion for helping parents understand the way their children grow and develop. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.

We were soaked in sunscreen, swimsuits, and sun-wrap dresses. It was spring break my sophomore year of college, and our family took our customary trip to Mexico. Blissful, carefree, and reading lots of books on the beach pretty much describes our trip. My sisters and I shared a room with my mom and our brother slept in the pull out bed in living room of the time share. Dinners, walks and talks, and lots of laughing punctuated the trip. Behind my smile, I was carrying a shameful sin. A secret of small proportions but for me? The daughter who had never done anything wrong? I was weighted down. After we went to Mass in the small town, I sought out the priest. Even if he only spoke some English, I longed for the healing absolution of the Sacrament of Confession. As I stood up from kneeling, his soft voice reminded me: “You want to make peace with your family.” That part would be way harder than saying it to him. Sisters, even sins done in secret damage all of us. The Mystical Body of Christ aches and pains when we sin. The effects reverberate out. It always hurts more than just us. After you take yourself to Confession, after you unburden yourself of the sins that keep you from closeness to Our Lord, take your apologies to those in your life who need it. I did, and while it was the hardest conversation of my young adult life, it was the right thing to do. And it was freeing and healing. [bctt tweet="Sisters, even sins done in secret damage all of us. // @WholeParenting" username="blessedisshe__"] Click through to find a church offering Confession near you. Nell O'Leary is a recovering lawyer turned blogger, speaker, and sewer of baby goods while tending to her husband and four kiddos in the great city of Saint Paul, Minnesota. She serves as Managing Editor for Blessed is She and can down a hot cocoa in no time flat. Find out more about her here. She is the editor of our Blessed Conversations Series and guide for the Gift of You course.