Today's First Reading always makes me somewhat queasy. David goes to great lengths, all to cover up his own sin. The wheeling and dealing and scheming and murder. It's disgusting. Then I roll over in my memory the times I've sinned, tried to cover it up, tried to stifle the messenger. Maybe my conscience is the Uriah in these scenarios. I had this college boyfriend whom everyone thought was a bad idea. Everyone except for me, who had fallen head over heels for the idea of someone needing me and caring about me. Roommates asked who I was having dinner with? Oh, a friend from class. Sisters asked why I never answered their calls when I was gone late at night? Oh, drove to see a friend, and we got caught up in things. I lied to those closest to me, and I never wanted to face what it was about him they didn't approve of. When I spent all my time spinning and covering up the who/what/where/whens of my dating life, squelching my pangs of maybe you should just tell them, I didn't have to be honest with myself about the damage living a double life was causing on the inside. If you're caught up in the hamster wheel of covering your own rear, defending choices you know are probably wrong, and wanting to kill your conscience or silence your critics, just stop and look around, sister. By the time I finally did, I turned to the Lord and faced the music. A good Confession to the priest and to my loved ones meant I could live in the light. And I had never felt more free. The Lord wants freedom from habitual sin for you, too. [bctt tweet="Just stop and look around, sister. // @WholeParenting" username="blessedisshe__"] This quick guide to forming a conscience can help remind us how to do it, and how to stick close to it. 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.

“God will provide.” A simple phrase my mom refers to as 'my tagline.' They are words I have repeated for as long as I can remember, even prior to my reversion to the Faith. When we lost our home, when college debt threatened the year of service I was committed to, when I was pretty much certain I would never find my husband–you name a time of trial, and these three words have been my constant source of hope. When asked how I can be so certain of this little motto of mine, I can never really think of an eloquent way to explain it. My heart simply knows that Jesus loves us, has promised to care for us, and does not break promises. He might not answer our requests exactly how we would like (if we even identify the answer at all), but He never breaks a promise. The light He provides while we are clouded by darkness might be hard to find, but He never breaks a promise. And I imagine knowledge of this is how King David was also so certain of God’s love and providence. "You are God and Your words are truth; You have made this generous promise to Your servant" (2 Samuel 7:28). David knows God’s unending love and covenant with the people of Israel. He understands the magnitude of that promise, and that it simply cannot be broken. And like David, I often find myself wondering “who am I, Lord God . . . that you have brought me to this point?” (2 Samuel 7:18) God has kept the promise of His provision despite my failures and flaws. And He does the same for you, too, sister. Whether during the highest high, or the lowest low, God will provide. He told us so. We are His beloved. And God never breaks a promise. [bctt tweet="My heart simply knows that Jesus loves us, has promised to care for us, and does not break promises. // Sarah Rose" username="blessedisshe__"] Will you join us in our retreats across the country this year? We want to pray with you into this idea of His constant presence. Sarah Rose is a small town Ohio girl who is obsessed with all things Ignatian and is passionate about faith, social justice, and the intersection of the two. She left Ohio in 2012 and after a year of service in rural Alaska, earning her Master of Divinity in California, and working at a Connecticut High School, is officially back in Ohio serving as a university Newman Campus Minister. When she’s not working, she enjoys contagious laughter, clever puns, and finding the good in all things. You can find out more about her here.

It is the dead of winter here in the Upper Midwest. Dead isn’t really accurate, is it? Perhaps a more accurate description would include dormant, waiting, brimming with potential. My garden beds rest under several inches of snow and ice, the winter winds blowing bitterly over them. All my little hopes rest in seeds and roots buried deep beneath the winter sky. I inherited a barren garden. Save for a few hardy hostas and impossible-to-kill wild raspberries, the vegetation on our property was lacking. The soil was old, weary, and completely lacking in nutrients. I could have easily planted seeds and watered them daily, but that was no guarantee that anything would grow, much less flourish. So I slowly tend to them, each year adding goodness to the earth, in hopes of creating a rich environment for growth. But ultimately all I do is prepare the soil and water when the skies don’t. So it is in the spiritual life. I do my best to care for the state of my soul and those in my charge. I gently pull out the weeds and work to transform my heart so that when those seeds are planted, they have the best chance to grow. I am also reminded during this season of shortened days and a low hanging sun, that sometimes growth is happening where I cannot even see it. Even if the winter winds are howling and the landscape seems desolate, if I have done my part to cultivate fertile ground, He will provide the grace for growth. [bctt tweet="I do my best to care for the state of my soul and those in my charge. // @jacquiskemp" username="blessedisshe__"] In what ways is the Lord asking you to tend to the garden of your soul? What needs to be removed? What can you add to it? 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.

Father processed throughout the room, the gleaming monstrance held high, light reflecting from the shiny points surrounding the Eucharist. The smell of incense lingered, and the chapel was silent save a sniffle here or there. The beauty of it all held the room rapt. And then there He was, right in front of me. Jesus Himself, clothed in glory, humbled to the appearance of bread, here. I reached out to touch the hem of the garment enshrining Him, and tears sprang to my eyes. Everyone else in the room was suddenly invisible to me: it was just Jesus and me. The worries in my heart, the pain I’d buried deep, the heaviness of life suddenly vanished. For a moment I acted on abandon, pure Love gazing right into my face. I found myself letting go without a second thought, praise overflowing from my heart for the One Who deserves it all. I read today’s reading of 2 Samuel 6:12B-15, 17-19, and I know I’ve glimpsed a bit of what David must have felt as the Ark of the Lord was processed into Jerusalem. David’s love for God led to praising Him with his whole being. When David encountered God, he couldn’t help but dance down the street with shouts of joy. Burnt offerings followed, and then David blessed the people and served them, meeting their practical needs. My outward expressions tend more towards the subdued, but that release in my heart made me feel like I was dancing inside. And that feeling of abandon made me feel like I was resting in the knowledge that He is Love. As He fills the cracks in my heart, worship and praise of our Creator naturally flow out as I abandon myself to Him and His plan. His love completes me and transforms me. And from that I am able to walk out the Christian life, sacrificing my wants and willingly serving those around me. [bctt tweet="He is Love. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] If you feel uncomfortable like you're not sure exactly what you should do in Adoration, take a peek at our blog post on it. Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother to four boys while living in a 200 year old farmhouse. When not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or snagging amazing antique furniture deals. You can find out more about her here.

Cold fear filled my heart as I waited in the long Confession line, dreading pronouncing the words that named my sin, one I could not bring myself to give up. My courage began to fail me as I drew near the head of the line. Fighting the impulse to slip out of line, my desire to worthily receive Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament kept me rooted to the floor. Jesus in today’s Gospel says these words of warning, "[W]hoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin" (Mark 3:29). The Church helps us understand what Jesus means here. She teaches us that we blaspheme against the Holy Spirit when we doubt His ability to help us, reject His promptings to be drawn back to God when we sin, and do not trust in God’s mercy by refusing to go to the Sacrament of Penance. The Catechism explains, "Such hardness of heart can lead to final impenitence and eternal loss" (Catechism of the Catholic Church § 1864). When we give into this despair, we reject the gifts being continually offered by the Holy Spirit. Pope Saint Gregory the Great wrote that the Holy Spirit gives us the Gift of Piety to overcome the hardness of heart that prevents us from repenting of our sins. (source) Piety is the gift that helps us to act as children of God and know Him as the Father He is to us because of our Baptism. When we listen to the Holy Spirit’s promptings, we are filled with a daughterly love towards God, trusting in His forgiveness and fearing to be estranged from Him. That afternoon as I internally battled my fears, the Holy Spirit was filling me with piety. My love for God was driving me to repent and strive to be rid of my habitual sin. As the colored light from the stained-glass windows flitted across the chapel, I confessed my sin. I received absolution, and that day—after years of confessing that particular sin—the healing graces of the Sacrament finally set me free. God’s mercy is truly endless. [bctt tweet="The Holy Spirit gives us the Gift of Piety to overcome the hardness of heart that prevents us from repenting of our sins. // Susanna Spencer" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn more about the gifts of the Holy Spirit in our Gift of You course. Susanna Spencer is the Theological Editor for Blessed is She who studied theology and philosophy in her earlier life. She happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul when not writing and editing. She loves beautiful liturgies, cooking delicious meals, baking amazing sweets, reading good books, raising her children, casually following baseball, and talking to her philosopher husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up and Theological Editor of the Catechism Studies, the Mystery Studies, and the Works of Mercy study. You can find out more about her here.

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light" (Isaiah 9:2). Sisters, we are all walking together on this pilgrimage to Heaven, but do you notice how often the darkness and gloom creep into the crevices of our thoughts, feelings, and desires? Confusion, wounds, sickness, and pain hinder us from seeing clearly. But Isaiah points out that the people are walking in darkness. Instead of feeling stuck or trapped, instead of sitting defeated in despair, they are walking in darkness. When I was first diagnosed with depression, I memorized Robert Frost’s poem, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. As the narrator walks through the woods on the darkest evening of the year, he notices that "the woods are lovely, dark, and deep" and there are "promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep." Yes, sisters, the darkness can be lovely, dark, and deep. Do not be afraid of the darkness because it might be a beautiful part of your path to holiness. Keep walking in hope with the Church. At our Baptism, we received the Light of Christ. Yes, He is the Light Who desires to bring you abundant joy and great rejoicing. Even on the darkest of nights, let us not forget that we have received His radiant Light. [bctt tweet="Do not be afraid of the darkness because it might be a beautiful part of your path to holiness. // Rose Coleman" username="blessedisshe__"] Re-read today's Psalm and pray with it quietly today. 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.

"These signs will accompany those who believe . . . " (Mark 16:17). In today's Gospel, Our Lord tells the eleven Apostles to go out and tell the whole world the Good News. He also gives them the indications that someone is a believer with a series of signs—things they'll do and be able to do. My daughter sat kicking her legs in my direction under the dining room table. "She's never going to be my friend again," she proclaimed as only a seven year old can. Kind of a grunt, hiss, shriek. There had been a misunderstanding (the nice adult term for it) about whether or not a friend had called her artwork bad. "I heard someone say it and it couldn't have been the boy sitting at our table. It must have been heeerrrrrrrrrr," the crying started now. I sipped the end of my now-flat carbonated water drink and glanced into the kitchen where two kids had dumped out the legos everywhere and a third was dawdling over his homework. "Let's look at this in the totality of the circumstances. That means, let's see if she's ever done anything like this before." We parsed through this little girl's actions. Had she ever been unkind before? Is it possible it slipped out of her mouth but she didn't mean to insult you? How can we look at this in the greater context of who she is? She cooled off, we prayed, she wrote a note to her friend, the mom reached out, everything ended up fine. But I kept coming back to this idea of how we evaluate people's actions. You've also probably struggled to place someone in context. Would they mean that? Are they going off the deep end? Can I follow their Instagram still? Is that book recommendation solid? I try to examine them and their sharing online and off-line in the "totality of their circumstances." So not quick to judge but careful to observe. Let's give one another the benefit of the doubt but also be ready to gently provide sisterly feedback as needed, friends. [bctt tweet="I kept coming back to this idea of how we evaluate people's actions. // @WholeParenting" username="blessedisshe__"] Lord, we humbly ask You to call all our hearts and mind closer to You. Help us evaluate our own actions and thoughts so that they can stay rooted in our Faith. 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.

You called me. Appointed me. You called me by name, into existence. You called me to be with You. You called me into a family. Into a group of friends. Onto a ministry team. You called me, again. To a specific vocation. To marriage, then to be a mother two times, three times, six times! Lord, have mercy on me! Daily you hear my plea. I am too weak for these callings. Too prideful. Too timid. I don’t believe in myself the way You do. I cannot do what You’re asking of me. Send help, God. Have mercy. Renew Your promise. Restore the grace You gave me in order to respond to Your call. I’m exhausted from sacrificing in love. My body crashes to bed each night, spent from caring for these souls I am called to love—and how I do love them! My heart aches with hope that Your promise will be fulfilled in their lives. I am weak, wearied by heartbreak and worry. "Have mercy on me God, have mercy" (Psalm 57:2). You called me, that like the Apostles and all the Saints, I might be with You. This is my heart’s desire; it is restless until it rests in You. Take my hand and help me. Walk with me on this path You set before me. You call me. Beloved. Daughter. You give me an identity. You called me at Baptism, and every day You still call me to be with You. In Your mercy, draw me near. Restore my belief that I am who You say I am. Give me the grace again, to remain faithful in Your love. [bctt tweet="Send help, God. Have mercy. // Gina Fensterer" username="blessedisshe__"] Stay close to Our Lord repeating today, "Draw me near, Lord." 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.

In high school, I lost my best friend. We used to be neighbors, and we had been friends since we were four or five years old. We grew up together; our families played together. I thought we’d be friends forever. Then one day, that friend told a private, personal secret to someone. Word got out (as it does in high school), the personal information spread around to everyone we knew, and I was humiliated. But mostly, I felt betrayed. I did not feel that I could trust her again after that, and I had to end the friendship. At sixteen years old, it was one of the hardest things I had to do. I felt like I had lost part of myself. But in the end, it was healthier to end the friendship. People asked me, Is it true?! Or they would say to me, How could she?! But what I wished for most of all was that someone would stick up for me. I wished that someone would have said, regardless of whether this is true or not, we should not be speaking about her this way. But alas, HIGH SCHOOL. *biggest eye roll ever* We have all had situations where someone says the worst about us behind our backs. People share secrets and confidences or they simply lie about us. Jonathan spoke up for David to his father Saul, and Saul’s heart was moved to compassion (see 1 Samuel 19:4). We all need those Jonathans in our lives who will speak up for us. We need to be Jonathans to our families, our friends, and even strangers. Today, I am reminded to speak kindly about others, to avoid gossip, and to speak up to defend others when I need to. Be someone who will advocate, defend, and protect. [bctt tweet="We all need those Jonathans in our lives who will speak up for us. // @Substance_Soul" username="blessedisshe__"] Try doing a nightly examination of conscience to see how you did or didn't treat others kindly throughout the day so you can try again tomorrow. Dr. Samantha Aguinaldo-Wetterholm is a wife to Paul, mom to three 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, does not leave the house without wearing sparkly earrings, and is an enthusiastic proponent of the Oxford comma. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up. Find out more about her here.

The snow whipped around our car as we traveled through the wet lake-effect snowstorm east of Lake Erie. My Michigan-native husband gripped the wheel, focused on the barely visible track from the car in front of us. Warm and snug beside him, I clutched a rosary over my swollen pregnant belly, praying and trusting our three guardian angels and my husband’s snow driving abilities. Perhaps we had the same youthful confidence of David as we braved the storm to drive from Buffalo, New York to visit our families for Christmas the first winter of our marriage. David trusted in the Lord’s protecting help for his face-off with the giant Goliath just as he had trusted the Lord to help him when he faced the lion and the bear attacking his father’s sheep (see 1 Samuel 17:37). He was God’s chosen and anointed one, a man after God’s heart, who did God’s will (See Acts 13:22.) We, too, have been anointed and chosen at our Baptism, and again at our Confirmation, to do His will. He helps us to face our trials and to overcome our difficulties so that we can become holy and united to Him. David’s battle with lions, bears, and Goliath symbolize for us the spiritual battles we face against the enemy in our temptations to sin. Like David, we can turn to the Lord and confidently pray for His help. When he prayed for help, David did not sit around and wait for a response. Instead he used his God-given talents and strengths and prayed to the Lord to aid him in using them to overcome His enemies. Goliath fell with the first stone David flung because of the help of the Lord. Similarly, my husband and I sought God’s help for our safety when we decided to travel cautiously and skillfully through the snow. And He delivered us through that storm. But more importantly, He delivers us from spiritual evils when we go to Confession and ask for His grace and prudence to avoid occasions of sin. His grace does not help us unless we accept it and fight, as David did, on His side. [bctt tweet="We, too, have been anointed and chosen at our Baptism, and again at our Confirmation, to do His will. // Susanna Spencer" username="blessedisshe__"] Learn more about what the Faith teaches us on free will and how we exercise it here. Susanna Spencer is the Theological Editor for Blessed is She who studied theology and philosophy in her earlier life. She happily cares for her three adorable little girls, toddler boy, and her dear husband in Saint Paul when not writing and editing. She loves beautiful liturgies, cooking delicious meals, baking amazing sweets, reading good books, raising her children, casually following baseball, and talking to her philosopher husband. She is a contributing author to our children's devotional prayer book called Rise Up and Theological Editor of the Catechism Studies, the Rosary Studies, and the Works of Mercy study. You can find out more about her here.

On paper, this guy was perfect, everything I wanted in a future spouse. It was like God had designed him with me in mind, and we were going to live happily ever after. Except for one little problem: he was totally not into me. And not only was he not into me, he had rejected me in a way that made left me feeling like a fool. I cried bitter tears into the shoulders of more than one girlfriend, wondering how I could have been so wrong. This is not the only time I had mistakenly thought I knew what God’s will was. Discerning the Lord’s will is not always easy. Sometimes a thing may look so good that I want it to be God’s will for me. I may even be able to persuade myself that it is God’s will. But, ultimately, my efforts to control my future are futile. I can only see the present moment while the Lord sees it all. Waiting for Him to show me His plan is always better than making my own. "Not as man sees does God see, because he sees the appearance but the Lord looks into the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7b). The Lord knows my heart. He knows what I can handle, and He knows exactly what I need. He sees what I am capable of, and He loves me in spite of my weaknesses. Every heartache He has allowed me to go through, including the one in this story, He has worked for good. He has proven Himself to be trustworthy. Discerning God’s will for me has not become any easier, but trusting in Him has. The circumstances of my life are still confusing and disappointing, but I know the Lord sees it all and that He is in control. His goodness towards me can always be counted on. [bctt tweet="Waiting for Him to show me His plan is always better than making my own. // Anna Coyne" username="blessedisshe__"] Visit Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament in Adoration right from your screen today, bringing Him your heart and trust. 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.

I heard the bell buzz over the intercom and groaned inwardly. I was supposed to put down my work and enter the chapel for prayer, but I wanted just a few more minutes to complete my task first. However, I knew obedience to the schedule was what God wanted of me right then. At the time, I was in my 20s and attending a six-week-long retreat to discern a religious vocation. After my conversion back to the Faith, God was doing many things to my heart, and I was slowly learning how to love Him above all else. Eventually, I realized I was called to the vocation of marriage and motherhood, and not the religious life, but God kept echoing the Scripture, "Obedience is better than sacrifice" (1 Samuel 15:22) in my heart. This time, instead of a physical bell calling me to the next task, it was a child that needed me to stop and help him or it was a friend that called me in tears and needed comfort. Sometimes it was the whisper of Jesus in the tabernacle that beckoned me to stop my car and make a quick visit to our local chapel. Admittedly, I am not walking around like a Saint just floating from one Heaven-sent task to the next. I’m more likely trying not to scream and lose my patience when one more interruption stops me from following my schedule or to-do list. It’s during that frustration that we can readjust our attitudes and see these “interruptions” as little calls from God. They can be opportunities for us to spread His love to another person or to help rid us of our self-centeredness and focus on the needs of another. Humble obedience becomes a sacrifice of love. [bctt tweet="God was doing many things to my heart, and I was slowly learning how to love Him above all else. // @bobbi_rol" username="blessedisshe__"] This inspirational woman also describes the interruptions as invitations from the Lord. Can we view them as that 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.

If you were to ask me to quote the entirety of the film "The Sound of Music" from memory, I probably could. Throughout my years as a child, teen, young adult, and now not-so-young adult, I've found that there are few stories so full of goodness as that of the true story of Maria Von Trapp, her husband Georg, and their family as they found their vocation together and escaped the Nazi takeover of Austria in the 1930s. Although parts of the film are certainly embellished for the sake of the audience, I find that there is so much to be gleaned from the trajectory of the Von Trapp story. In one of my favorite parts of the film, the Mother Abbess counsels Maria as she discerns her vocation at the convent: "What is the most important lesson you have learned here, my child?" the Abbess asks. She responds, "To find out what is the will of God, and to do it wholeheartedly." Maria knew, just like the Psalmist in today's Reading knew, that the love of the Father has an unfathomable calling on our lives. They knew that He gives us the grace to do His will, and to do it wholeheartedly, even when the way seems uncertain (see Psalm 40:2-10). Most people don't know that beyond the warmth and fuzziness of the film, Maria's true life story was never easy. She became an orphan at age ten. She thought for certain she was called to religious life but discovered instead that she was meant for marriage. Her real life family story was fraught with uncertainty—especially as they endured financial ruin, immigrated to the United States, and tried to make a living for themselves. Maria believed, like the Psalmist, that to discover the will of God and do it wholeheartedly was at the very core of her existence. May we pray today with our dearly departed Maria and with the words of the Psalmist, "Here I am, Lord: I come to do your will." [bctt tweet="Find out what is the will of God. // Karen Schultz" username="blessedisshe__"] Take a few moments to quiet your heart in prayer today and set before the Lord this question: what is Your will for my life? 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.

My preschooler asks how many minutes remain in his quiet time for the fifth time today, and the baby woke up early from her nap. It’s almost four o’clock and I still need to decide exactly what I will make our family for dinner. I concoct an idea, nurse the baby, read the preschooler a book. I love my children beyond measure, but sometimes my heart starts aching for an extended period of peace and quiet to pray in solace. Sip a cup of tea while it’s still hot. Make a regular Holy Hour in the adoration chapel. To pursue some interests which I perceive I have to set aside for the foreseeable future. “Follow me" (Mark 2:14). It’s a line of Scripture I have heard many times. Yes, Lord. Of course I will always follow You. You know I try to be a faithful Catholic woman, striving to witness to You in the way You call me to live the Christian life. When the Lord calls me to follow Him, He means for the long haul, yes. But today the Holy Spirit inspires a new realization: I can only do that by following Him now. Moment to moment. So often I miss the immediacy of His call on my life. Where is Jesus asking you to follow Him today? How will you respond? I find solace when I recognize what a blessing it is to have a Lord Who calls each of us to a vocation that will allow us to grow in holiness. A Lord Who desires for us different seasons and opportunities to stretch and love and serve Him. A Lord Whose mercy knows no bounds, Who longs to dine with us, and Who invites us to the table of the Eucharist. How blessed we are to be called, sisters. To be chosen. To have the opportunity each day to follow Him. [bctt tweet="When the Lord calls me to follow Him, He means for the long haul. // @inendlesssong" username="blessedisshe__"] This wonderful book is available for a free download and focuses on finding God in each and every present moment. Elise Howe is a wife, mother, vocal artist, teacher, and writer. A lover of authentic beauty, Elise is most joyful when creating with the inspiration of the Divine Artist. A born-and-raised Midwestern gal, she happily resides in Michigan after several years "living the dream" in New York City. Elise has a heart for ministry, dark chocolate (but not too dark) and coffee with a generous amount of cream + sugar. She is a contributing author to our Works of Mercy Study: Misericordia. Find out more about her here.

Community matters. Community is often a word or idea that so easily gets brushed aside. It's easy to go about our day, seeking Him and doing good, but doing so more or less alone. And yet, it was the paralytic's friends that brought him to the feet of Jesus. It was their strength that lowered him through the roof of the house Jesus was in. It was their abounding courage that led them to find a way to bring their friend to Jesus. We were made for community—to be surrounded by those who will the best for us in all seasons of life. In all honesty, community is difficult to find for me, especially in this season of life I'm currently in. But my heart continues to cry out to the Lord in prayer—Jesus, lead me to community! Give me the courage to go out and search for those You desire me to know! May we walk together to You! Let's trust God with the big things. The Scribes had a hard time understanding or trusting how it could be that Jesus could forgive sins. They didn't necessarily understand Who He was or the power He had within (see Mark 2:6-7). And yet, it was the paralytic and his friends who trusted deeply that there was healing to be found at the feet of Jesus. Whether we seek physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual healing, Jesus is here waiting for us. And sometimes we are not healed in the ways we've asked for, but healing happens still. Deep healing occurs in His presence, at His feet. Maybe that healing is for ourselves, or maybe it's for those who watch us approach Him, time and time again. Let us remember to trust Him, His timing, and His love for us. [bctt tweet="We were made for community—to be surrounded by those who will the best for us in all seasons of life. // Shalini Blubaugh" username="blessedisshe__"] Come find community or start a Blessed is She group right in your home! We make it doable, easy, and will support you along the way. Shalini Blubaugh is a Minnesota transplant living in Denver, Colorado with her sweet husband, Matt, their gal pal, Callan, and quite large GSD pup, Sully. She runs her own Activewear 'biz and is a soon to be Certified Personal Trainer. She also loves pizza because #balance. Shalini graduated from the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities, served with NET Ministries, and went on to attend Law School. She graduated with her J.D. and happily leaves all things Law behind! Some of her favorites include travel, re-connecting with old friends and making new ones, the ways in which God so beautifully brings all things full circle in His time, and a good, loud thunderstorm. Find out more about her here.

The leper in today’s Gospel (Mark 1:40-45) asks to be made clean, healed of his disease. It’s a request I know well. I pray it every time I am sick or hurt: Please God, heal me. And then the fear kicks in. What if I don’t get better? I think, and my mind romps wildly off into the land of worst-case scenarios. In a world where medical information is available 24/7, an Internet search on a cough eventually leads me to think I have terminal pulmonary disease. At times like this, I need to pause, breathe, and remember the healing that has already taken place in my life. My past reads as one big litany of illnesses that have been cured. The chickenpox I had as a kid. Countless stomach flus and colds. The mononucleosis-induced sore throat that felt like swallowing razor blades. The infected cysts that are too disgusting to describe. The raging UTI that landed me in the ER. The wounds from falls, from minor burns, from two C-sections. My body wants to repair itself. It wants to heal, and it always has. True, the healing may not happen on my preferred schedule, or even on my own terms. But in the face of anxiety about my health, I need to remember the other times when I have been afraid and those fears have been baseless. I need to remember that I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the God Who wants me to thrive. I need the faith of the leper, in other words. That isn’t easy for a hypochondriac like me. In an anxious world, worry is never far away. But when it comes down to faith versus fear, I’d much rather turn to faith. It’s a matter of retraining my thinking, and—with God’s help—I’m ready to try. [bctt tweet="Please God, heal me. // Ginny Kubitz Moyer" username="blessedisshe__"] If you're looking for healing for deep fears and wounds, consider looking into this ministry. 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.

“Good . . . good . . . busy . . . really busy . . . but good.” Those are my standard responses when people ask me how I am. And every single time the conversation ends and we part ways, I ask myself, Why did you feel the need to tell them you were busy, in the midst of also being good? And every single time, I vow to not do it the next time someone asks me how I am. I usually still do . . . . We all do, really, because in our go-go-go, uber-productive, constant-movement world where we measure success in how much we’ve done in the past few hours, busyness is next to godliness. Step aside cleanliness, busyness is the new king of the castle. I fall into the trap daily: what I’m doing and how much is on my to-do list are what seem to determine my value and worth, my influence and place in the world. I’m consumed with it—this deep desire to always have both something to do and somewhere to be—and if I sit still too long, I begin to worry that I’m unimportant and insignificant. I imagine Jesus may have felt the same way sometimes, especially during His “busier” seasons. All those healings and all that preaching—so many people to heal, like Peter’s mother-in-law in today’s Gospel, and the throngs of crowds constantly seeking Him out. But even in the midst of His busiest days, with a to-do list a cubit long, Jesus still found time to slip away from the hustle and bustle and to pray. At the start of His day, in the quiet and the calm, Jesus made time for prayer. He made time for the Father. He made time to go to the deserted place and listen. He made stillness his priority, in the midst of His busyness. Do we do the same? Do we make the time to pray, set aside a moment of quiet and calm? Or do we cling to the calendar, get lost in the inbox, brandish our to-do list, thus ignoring the One Who longs for us to slip away to a deserted place with Him? It is only when we do make time with the Lord our priority—setting things aside, and taking intentional moments to be with Him—that we are able to then say: “Good . . . good . . . busy . . . really busy . . . but good,” not because the busyness is good, but because He is. [bctt tweet="Jesus made time for prayer. // @KatiePrejean" username="blessedisshe__"] Go back and sit with today's Gospel. Read it over again and see which lines strike you. Ask Our Lord to meet you in those lines. Katie Prejean McGrady is an international Catholic speaker and author of three books with Ave Maria Press. After working as a theology teacher and parish youth minister for six years, Katie now travels full time across the U.S., Canada, and the U.K., speaking about faith, culture, family, evangelization, discipleship, and the best way to order a flat white. She is the project manager of Ave Explores, an initiative of Ave Maria Press, and the host of the Ave Explores podcast. She and her husband Tommy host the podcast (The Electric Waffle), have a dog (Barney), and a 2 year old (Rose) and live in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Find out more about her here.