But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. // Philippians 3:20 Two years ago, I went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and participated in a leadership course for two weeks. To say this was one of the best trips I’ve ever been on would be an understatement.  It was such a gift to be in the place where our Lord actually walked, grew up, and taught. And even more, it was a privilege to be with the group of young women I was with. Over thirty of us came together from nine different countries as strangers and left as sisters. We shared such deep encounters of the Lord and lived those two weeks with so much joy. I still look back at all my memories with delight. But after I left, I felt so sad, and I longed to be back there with them.  It wasn’t my home, yet I felt so homesick. How was that possible? All I wanted was to go back. I felt like I belonged there, like it was a foreshadowing of heavenly joy.  Sister, do you ever feel that way about Heaven? Longing to be home with our Creator?  Although our time on earth has its joys and beauties, it can often be filled with sin, suffering, and darkness. It is uncomfortable, dirty, and temporary. This is not our home.  Our ultimate home is with God in Heaven.  In today’s First Reading, Saint Paul reminds us that our citizenship is in Heaven (see Philippians 3:17-4:1). Our citizenship as believers is in Heaven. Our eternal home is in Heaven with the Lord.  Is your heart longing for home?  It is easy to be discouraged in the waiting, but stand firm in the Lord. Don’t let the temporary pain of life on earth pull you away from the joy of what’s coming. Stay close to and rely on the Lord, and He will sustain you in this life. Live in His joy here and remember your destination.

I give thanks to my God always on your account for the grace of God bestowed on you in Christ Jesus, that in him you were enriched in every way.” // 1 Corinthians 1:4-5 I tapped my pen on my journal as I stared at an empty page, not knowing where to even start. I had been asked to share my testimony to a youth group of high school kids with whom I was on a mission trip in Costa Rica. These kids were having powerful experiences of mission and of one another during this trip, which made it a beautiful environment for testimonies. I was going into my junior year of college, just a few years older than them, and I had no idea what I would share.  Sharing my story in an intimate group or with a close friend is one thing, but getting up in front of high schoolers was a different story.  Where would I even start? Will they even get something out of it? What do I even say?  I was engulfed in these questions as I attempted to put some parts of my story to paper. I just kept praying that the Holy Spirit would speak through me and reach these eager hearts. Through sharing my story, I desired to show them just how much God our Father sees us in our wholeness and transforms our brokenness.  And when the time came, the Spirit was so present and it was evident it was He Who was speaking through me. I knew those were not my words. He was the source of those words. The story had been a testament of God’s presence in my life.  God’s grace was so present.  In today’s First Reading (see 1 Corinthians 1:1-9), Saint Paul prays that the grace of God would enrich the people of Corinth. A grace that lacks no spiritual gifts. A grace that enriches. A grace that invites transformation through Jesus Christ.  A vision of transformation that brings about our wholeness. God’s vision for our transformation is that we would be whole. What robs you of wholeness? Invite the Lord into that place today and ask Him for the grace that transforms, enriches, and keeps you firm to the end. 

The apostles gathered together with Jesus and reported all they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” People were coming and going in great numbers, and they had no opportunity even to eat. // Mark 6:30-31 This is just a really busy time of the year; it will settle down.  As I looked at  my to-do list, it was evident that I didn’t have time for anything else. I let out a big sigh, knowing this wasn’t even everything I needed or wanted to do. Once this month passes, I will be able to rest.  I love a busy schedule; there’s something so exciting about going from one place to another. So it was no surprise for me to see a full calendar month after month. But that day I realized the truth. I just need a retreat. I need silence.  I decided that my upcoming spring break needed to be dedicated to Jesus: it needed to be a time to rest, pray, and reset. It would look very different from all my spring breaks in the past.  In today’s Gospel (see Mark 6:30-34), the Apostles had just returned from their first mission trip and were excited. They gathered around Jesus and told Him everything they had done. Imagine their excitement as they shared stories about healing the sick, casting out unclean spirits, and proclaiming the Gospel. And they were ready to do more, eager to be in action again.  But Jesus responded to their enthusiasm with this invitation to “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). Jesus knew that this rest was the most important thing that His disciples could do in that moment, the most needed thing. They had done important work, but now it was time to rest with Him.  When we think of rest, we usually think of resting our bodies. But when Jesus thinks of rest, He also desires rest for our souls. Something all of us need—something we desire.  Sister, the Lord desires to offer you that rest. He invites you and me to the deserted place to rest awhile. Just like the Apostles, tell Him everything you have done, and everything that fills your calendar. Then, accept His invitation to go and rest a while.

“Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” // Matthew 5:23-24  I was sitting at the kitchen island lost in my thoughts as my friend gave what felt like another excuse for abandoning our friendship. It had been years of this dance between maintaining what we had and completely losing touch. I found myself back at a familiar place of resentment within this particular relationship.  Why do I always end up on this side of friendships?   I put so much into these relationships, and this is what I get.  So many thoughts of bitterness and frustration raced through my head as I deceptively gave a smile and a nod to yet another apology. I was so tired of being an afterthought in this relationship—or any relationship, at that.  I had brought this to the Lord in prayer over and over, hoping somehow that He would justify my anger or perhaps I would leave feeling like the bigger person for bringing it to Jesus.  What I failed to see was how much all of this affected the rest of my prayer. It began consuming every part of me. The truth was that I could not offer the gift of myself to God until I reconciled with my friend. It wasn’t until I had a real and honest conversation with her that I saw a change in my prayer.  In today’s Gospel (see Matthew 5:20-26), Jesus firmly but tenderly declares what greater righteousness looks like, how we are not the ones to judge others. He demands conversion and offers direction—something I find so endearing about our Lord. This work of reconciliation is part of our act of worship, our offering to Him.  Is there someone you’ve been desiring reconciliation with? Listen to that conviction in your heart and take that step, first leaving your gift at the altar. Then return to the Lord eagerly and with gratitude. Sister, the Lord desires reconciliation and worship. 

But those sown on rich soil are the ones who hear the word and accept it and bear fruit thirty and sixty and a hundredfold. // Mark 4:20  I was sipping away my cappuccino when I began (yet again) complaining about how hard teaching has been, freely wallowing in self-pity and frustration. My dear priest friend gently interrupted my sharing with a question that left me awe-struck. He simply asked me, “Mary, how long have you wanted to be a teacher?”  I did not know why he was asking me this but I sheepishly replied, “Since I was in 6th grade.” I added an uncomfortable giggle, hoping he would offer wisdom or encouragement.  He said, “Just think, Mary: you are living your twelve year-old dream. You are where that little girl dreamed of being that long ago.You are doing so much for these little souls and planting the seed that will bear so much fruit.” I nodded in agreement as I pondered those words.  In today’s Gospel (see Mark 4:1-20), Jesus teaches the large crowd using the parable of the sower. He leaves them each to their own interpretation of the parable, but to the Twelve He intentionally explains its meaning.  The subject of this parable is not physical seeds. Rather, the subject is the Word of God, and the object of this teaching is to see the Word produce to its fullest potential, or “a hundredfold.”  I forget so often that the Lord does so much with the little I bring to the table. I will selfishly mope that what I am doing is not enough, I need to do more, or that it’s my work that brings about growth.  When I do His work, I am a mere instrument of the Holy Spirit. It’s God’s Word, the movement of the Spirit that produces its fullest potential. I often measure His Word on whether or not it was clearly received. And my measurements draw boundaries on the potential growth I might not ever see. Our thirty- and sixtyfold mentalities never reach the hundredfold opportunities.  Friend, the Lord desires to have our full potential. No boundaries, no hesitations, no measurements. If we give Him everything, every seed that’s sown produces a hundredfold. Fullness is a hundredfold. 

And the Apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." //  Luke 17:5 The hardest and most beautiful week I have ever had was on a mission trip to Haiti in 2017. I felt so inadequate and discouraged because it felt like everything I was doing there would never be enough. Even so, I knew the Lord’s graces were present. We spent the week with the Missionaries of Charity running a summer camp for all the children they served in their school. So many of the people I met showed me the simplicity of life and the joy that comes from gratitude. But the one person I still think about to this day because of what she taught me is one of the sisters from the Missionaries of Charity.   Realizing what had been on my heart all week, I timidly asked her, “Do you ever feel like you’re not doing enough? Or what you’re doing could never be enough?”   Sister Paske’s response floored me. With gentleness and confidence she replied, “I’m not doing enough. But I give them the little bit I can and everything God desires to give them through me. Then I ask God for more. We must not be afraid to ask Him for everything we need, over and over.” Ask God for more.  Ask God for more hope, more patience, more joy, more faith.  In today’s Gospel (see Luke 17:1-6), the apostles recognize that they need to have a greater reliance and trust in God so that they can do the hard things God asks them to do. “Increase our faith.” They see that what the Lord is asking of them is not going to be easy. They acknowledge that they need Him. The apostles knew that the Lord could give them everything they needed.  This is the untapped power of faith.  It can be so hard to ask for more from Someone who has already given everything. But He never tires of giving us what we need (and then some), over and over again. Find comfort in the arms of the Father who gives without cost.

When the days for Jesus to be taken up were fulfilled, he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem, and he sent messengers ahead of him. On the way they entered a Samaritan village to prepare for his reception there, but they would not welcome him because the destination of his journey was Jerusalem. // Luke 9:51-53 I remember stepping onto the plane as an eleven-year-old not knowing what the other side of the world would hold. I was completely crippled with fear and yet I found myself buckled and ready to go. My twin sister and I were leaving Ethiopia to go to our new home and new family in Northeast Ohio.  A thousand questions were racing through my head while I was quietly staring out the window. Am I going to be safe? Will I be happy? Did we just entrust them our entire life? So many questions, fears, and doubts. Many of them I’m still processing and figuring out. I was stepping into the unknown and honestly I don’t think there was anything at that moment that was going to make all of my fear go away. I had to walk through it. I had to accept that my life would be radically and unexpectedly different than I could have ever imagined. I was having to let go of everything to step into this new life. In today’s Gospel (see Luke 9:51-56), Jesus sends the disciples ahead of Him. They step into this village not knowing if they will be welcome. Then they get rejected. While the disciples are ready to call down fire on them, Jesus shocks them by barely noticing and heads toward Jerusalem with unwavering determination.  In the text of Luke after today’s Gospel, Jesus explains that to be a disciple we have to be willing to let go of the past (see Luke 9:57-62). Jesus has a destination, a place where He knows He will be welcome. He knows that His disciples’ lives will be radically and unexpectedly different than anything they had imagined, but He offers them His plan for them. There are times where the Lord will ask to step into our Jerusalem. He will ask us to let go of things in our past that keep us from the place He wants us to be. Sister, what is the Lord asking you to surrender today? The step He’s asking you to take could lead to something way more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined. Journey on with Him.

Majesty and glory are his work, and his justice endures forever. He has won renown for his wondrous deeds; gracious and merciful is the LORD. // Psalm 111:3-4 It is such a gift to teach the Catholic Faith to young souls and see the moments of joy in their faces when they discover the treasures of their faith. Early this spring, we jumped into learning more about the last Sacrament of Initiation, the Eucharist. While I still had their attention, I began teaching the lesson and sharing about how much I love the Eucharist. I was ready to move on to the next thing, following the lesson plan I had so carefully created, when one of my students led me to bend my plan, saying, “Wow, Jesus is really cool. He still comes to us even though we keep sinning and don’t really deserve Him.”  I stopped in my tracks. What a precious moment! This child already saw the gift of Himself that Jesus offers in the Eucharist: Christ’s mercy and generosity, and in a simple way, the Majesty of our God. To be honest with you, I forget this so often.  Week after week, I receive the Lord in the Eucharist and fail to see the gift that He is to me, losing sight of His mercy. Yet, I come time and time again hoping that my awe would be renewed. I desire to see the majesty and glory of His work, but so often look right past it.  My student’s simple but deep comment was something I needed to remember His glory—to see it present even in my classroom, especially in a moment that required me to drop my hold on my comfortable cycle of routine and structure. I usually struggle to find joy in these new moments of flexibility, but it is in them that, without fail, the Lord reveals Himself again.  Sister, where is the Lord revealing His majesty in the everyday moments? Maybe it’s the gorgeous sunrise, the sound of a child’s laughter, a heartwarming conversation with a friend, or the chance to be flexible. I invite you to reflect on the ways He is showing His glory to you! Let the Lord overwhelm you today.