December 16, 2024  // Monday of the Third Week of Advent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 25:4-5ab, 6 and 7bc, 8-9 Reflect on the Word//  I listened to the soft tones from the piano echo down the hall. My son was at it again, playing the line repeatedly until it came together flawlessly. His persistence was not a trait inherited from me. Although we both shared a love of music and had each played piano for decades, I could never practice the way he did. Although eager to learn, as a child and an adult I was impatient with the required repetition; thus my son had quickly surpassed me as a performer.  “Teach me your ways, O Lord” (Psalm 25:4).  We learn by practicing, listening, watching, and attending to what we deem important. There are so many areas in life where I could use some intentional improvement and simple practice. Of course, I want to be a better wife and mother, more patient and loving. But mostly, I want to know the ways of the Lord. I want to know His path, way, truth, and compassion. This takes time and practice. The best way to learn is to simply spend time with Him. And this is the most simple practice to repeat. Every day the same practice—close my eyes, make the Sign of the Cross, and inhale slowly. Come to Him in prayer and open my heart to Him through Scripture. Each time, this repetitive process is entirely different and is an opportunity to learn from the Lord.  “Teach me your ways,  O Lord.”  If we want to know the ways of the Lord, we need to focus our hearts and minds on the object of our instruction. We need to sit down and practice a way of life in unity with Him, even if it means doing the same thing repeatedly until we can come together with Him flawlessly.  Relate to the Lord // What practice do you need to return to or persevere in with the Lord?

Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid.” // 1 Kings 17:13 The heat in the kitchen is rising. It must be coming from me because I am fuming. Where is the thyme?! All I need is thyme! There is a play on words there, but I can't find the humor. How are we out of this too? My normally well-stocked kitchen seems rampaged now that my older sons are cooking multiple meals a day. I re-alphabetize the spices. Still no thyme. I let out a frustrated growl. Keep perspective, I remind myself. I can change the plan—again. Take a breath. What is this really about? Control. My world has been turned upside down lately and I am afraid. There is too much outside my control.  I pray out loud: “In the name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of perfection and control and invite the Lord’s grace and peace and protection. Lord, make me docile to your spirit. Let my home be a place of laughter and love.” Do not be afraid.  The poor widow in today’s First Reading was resigned to starvation. What a horrific place to find oneself, preparing the last meal for yourself and your son. I can’t even handle running out of an herb. Elijah tells her, “Do not be afraid,” and instructs her to make the last of the food she has and share it with him (see 1 Kings 17:10-16).  In my fear of the unknown, I grip tighter to the little things I think I can control. Then I spin wildly when little things don’t go according to plan. But the Lord wants more for us, His sweet daughters. He desires we enter into each day with sufficient trust in Him. Trust that He will provide us with our daily bread and that our jars and jugs will never run empty. This doesn’t mean we won’t experience frustrations or struggles or tough times. He simply asks us to trust and to believe in His goodness. Do not be afraid. Where are you holding fear? How is that fear preventing you from trusting more deeply in the Lord? 

“And I tell you, ask and you will receive: seek and you will find.” // Luke 11:9 “Mom, can I ask you a question?” I hear this question about a question on a daily basis.  It is part of my call as a mom to answer questions. I sometimes answer questions that they haven't even asked yet. But as the kids get older I am trying to be better about that. It is good for them to take time and formulate the right question. If I answer the question before it is asked, they never learn how to ask.  Too often in my adult life, I have not sought that which I should really be seeking. Or perhaps I was simply seeking it in the wrong places. Often my asking was actually making a demand, not placing a request and trusting the outcome to my Heavenly Father.  Today’s Gospel (see Luke 11:5-13) is hard for some of us to relate to because many of us have experienced unanswered prayers in our lives. People we prayed for didn’t receive healing, loved ones died even though we held firm in our faith to the end, periods of suffering seemed to go on and on when all we asked of the Lord was to bring an end to the struggle. Most of us can remember a request that went unanswered.  I have noticed with my littlest one that the phrase “Can I ask you a question?” is sometimes just an introduction to conversation. She wonders if I am available to talk, work things out, or problem-solve. It is less about the question and more about entering into a relationship.  Lord, can I ask You a question?  Of course, you can. “Ask and you will receive, seek and you will find” (Luke 11:9). This is a promise. You may not get the answer you are looking for, you may not seek what you find or find what you expected, but if you enter into dialogue with the Lord, you enter into the situation with Him at your side. What do you desire to ask the Lord today? Enter into the dialogue today. 

All glorious is the king’s daughter as she enters; her raiment is threaded with spun gold. In embroidered apparel she is borne in to the king; behind her the virgins of her train are brought to you. // Psalm 45:14-15 I am raising two daughters, but the Lord gave me two sons before the girls came along. When the boys were little, there was an explosion of consumerism around everything princess. Sparkly crowns, snarky sayings on t-shirts, pink glitter, and glam were all the rage. I was so happy that I was raising boys and proudly would remark that we didn't have any princesses in our family. That said, I admit I was ecstatic when I discovered I was having a girl. But I was determined that my girls were going to wear cowboy boots and cleats, not tiaras.  In reality, there were a lot of hairbows and twirly skirts as well—so much so that I learned how to make them myself. Yet the tiaras still had to stay at Grandma's house. I wasn't raising princesses—at least not the kind the makers of pajamas and dress-ups were promoting. For the truth is, I am a princess and so are both of my girls. Through our Baptisms, we are adopted daughters of the King on High. We are welcomed into His court and have a share of His inheritance.  I am still discovering the dignity and joy that comes from being an adopted daughter of the King of Heaven, and I dearly desire my girls to embrace that title as well. There is room for all of us princesses in the courts of Heaven. Some of us might wear tiaras and others baseball caps, but we all wear the indelible mark on our souls. There is no one way to be a princess, for we are all called to be holy as ourselves, but there is one way to become one. Simply say yes to the invitation the King has extended to be His daughter. Allow Him to draw you into His courts and make space for Him in your heart. Will you say yes today?

Let whoever is simple turn in here; To the one who lacks understanding, she says, Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed! // Proverbs 9:4-5 One of my favorite children’s books is about a young mouse named Marble. He lives in King Solomon’s palace and Marble’s father instructs Marble to listen to all he hears because King Solomon is such a wise king. A secondary character who steals the show with her proverb-dropping is the wise hawk named Wisdom. Now hawks and mice don't traditionally have easy friendships, but after a rather frightening beginning, little Marble is instructed by his parents that, if their old friend Wisdom is with him, he may leave the palace. Adventures and lessons ensue in the subsequent chapters about friendship choices, how we spend leisure time, and other important life lessons.   The character of the hawk is based on the biblical personification of Wisdom found throughout the Scriptures. In today’s First Reading, Wisdom is portrayed as a woman setting up her home and inviting others (see Proverbs 9:1-6). In both these examples, wisdom is represented as something or someone present and inviting. She sends out her maidens, inviting all who are simple and lack understanding to forsake foolishness and advance in understanding. Wisdom is pursuing the simple and humble among us, inviting us to something greater.  Even now Wisdom still instructs and guides. As we enter her house and open ourselves to her influence, she brings us closer to the Lord. It is not about growing in intelligence so that we can show everyone how smart we are—rather it is about growing in humility, docility, and obedience so that we may serve the kingdom of God. A desire to grow in wisdom is simply a desire to grow in understanding of God and His Will.  Wisdom is calling to each of us, ready to instruct and guide. How will you answer her invitation today?

“[D]o not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say.” // Matthew 10:19  I love writing things in my head. Ever since childhood, I have had imaginary conversations where I plan out what I will say if ever asked about this and such. In these imaginary conversations, I am smart, well-spoken, articulate, and convincing. But in the life that exists outside of my head, when faced with a tough conversation, I generally pull back. It would be dishonest to say that I do this to listen more carefully. Generally, it is because I am in a state of fear that I am going to misspeak, reveal my ineptitude to the world, and fail to convince the listener. Better to keep one's mouth shut than to confirm others’ suspicions of my foolishness.   When I converted to Catholicism, I experienced a conversation that deviated from this script. It was a few days before the Holy Saturday night Easter Vigil and I was speaking with a loved one who is not Catholic. As I broached the subject of the Vigil Mass, I unintentionally opened myself up to hear a litany of reasons why I should never become Catholic. I stood in the doorway, car keys in hand and ready to leave, but rather than apologizing and making a rapid retreat, I listened with love. An unearthly peace came upon me and with each attack against my beloved new Church, I felt greater peace. Somehow I was able to answer each accusation with a calm and clear statement of truth from a place of love, not defensiveness or fear.  Jesus tells his disciples not to worry about how they will speak. This doesn't mean that they shouldn’t seek to understand the faith and His teachings. It doesn't mean that they shouldn't listen carefully and think clearly. It means that they should trust in Him, in His teaching, and in the Holy Spirit to guide them.  What worries are you holding in your mind that you can more fully entrust to the Holy Spirit? Ask Him to help guide your words and deeds this day.

You have received a spirit of adoption as sons through which we cry: Abba! Father!  // Romans 8:15 (Alleluia Verse) Years ago, one of my children tried to convince her little sister that the little one was adopted. The big sister told a fairly convincing story in a very compassionate way. Yet the lie did not have the effect she was looking for. The little one argued against the logic a bit, then simply said, “Okay.” The effect my older child thought she would elicit simply didn't occur, because, in the mind of the youngest, it didn’t matter. In her mind, adoption is a beautiful thing.  Their father was adopted as an infant and raised in a wonderful family. With five pregnancies in ten years and four living children, adoption wasn’t something on the forefront of our minds or the minds of my children, but adoption was always discussed as a blessing.  No matter how your earthly origin story begins, through Baptism you are given a new life as an adopted daughter of the Heavenly Father. You enter into a familial relationship with your Creator and this changes everything. His love for you is not something that is earned, but rather, freely given. It is not contingent upon your perfection or performance, but simply your desire to open yourself to a relationship with Him. Jesus Himself teaches us to pray, “Our Father” (Matthew 6:9, emphasis mine). Likewise, Saint Paul instructs us to cry out to Him by that name: “Abba! Father!” (Romans 8:15) A spirit of adoption claims us as His and changes everything. Everything we do and every other role we occupy should be informed and fed through this primary relationship with God the Father.* If we let Him, our Heavenly Father will guide, protect, and provide for us our entire life.  Whether things are going your way or not today, continue to cry out to the Father. He will hear your cries and answer them in His perfect timing.  *For more on your relationship to God as daughter, check out my book Daughter by Design.

Let love be sincere, hate what is evil, hold onto what is good;  love one another with mutual affection; anticipate one another in showing honor. // Romans 12:9-10 I pushed aside the heavy mirror with the chipped frame to reveal a large image lying behind it amidst the grime. The heaviest artwork was stacked on the floor, propped against the wall in the corner of the dusty, musty thrift store. I was in search of a perfect mirror and instead found an image that captivated me. It is the image of what I want my own life to reflect. In a blissfully intact brass frame was a beautiful image of The Visitation. The older Saint Elizabeth stands at the top of the steps with arms outreached in welcome to a young Mary, Mother of God. One can’t gaze upon this image without feeling the emotion shared between the two women, and we know the words they spoke at this greeting for they are repeated in the Hail Mary and the Magnificat (see Luke 1:42-55). They are words of love, hope, and joy. Each of us has the honor of being little tabernacles of the Lord. Like Mary, we too can carry Him within ourselves and share His love, hope, and joy with all those around us.  The picture now hangs in my living room. It isn’t the mirror I was searching for, but instead it reflects so much of what I seek. It is a visible reminder of the importance of hospitality and the opportunity we have with each encounter to share the love of God. Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans in the First Reading gives us a beautiful recipe for this interaction—love sincerely with mutual affection. In a world that is increasingly a place of loneliness for so many, our face-to-face interactions can be life-giving. Spend some time today praying for someone you know to be lonely. Reach out to them and let them know you care.

“Repent, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be wiped away.” // Acts 3:19 In today’s readings—on the Third Sunday of Easter—we hear of the need for repentance and conversion, so that our sins may be wiped away. It seems like a rather “Lent-ish” reading to land so solidly in the Easter season. As Catholics, we have the season of Lent to give us another chance, to enter into life-changing habits, but so often after Lent passes us by, we are back to our old ways. Perhaps it is because as a culture, we often commit to changing our habits but stop short of inviting God to transform our lives. Instead, we return to the attachments that keep us from real conversion. It turns out, resolving to do better simply isn’t good enough. If we want our lives to be transformed by Christ, we must glance back as well as look forward. Where do we first need repentance before we enter into deeper conversion? What tendencies are keeping us trapped, even after Easter?  If you see your life needs radical change, don’t wait until December 31, 2024, or the beginning of next Lent. Take it to prayer today. Ask the Lord to show you how and where He desires you to grow. Go to Confession and start anew. Saint Jerome said, “As often as the world’s vain ambition delights you [ . . . .] transport yourself in your thoughts to paradise: begin to be what you shall be” (source).  What and who do you want to be? Let’s start anew today.

The two disciples heard what [John the Baptist] said and followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, “What are you looking for?” // John 1:37-38 I tend to be a bit absent-minded, and because of this tendency, I sometimes misplace things. I can be forgetful. I get stuck in my thoughts and will do things without realizing it. I lose my phone, keys, shoes, half-drunk coffee, glasses, and laptop regularly. I spend far too much of my time looking for my misplaced items. Chapstick in the washing machine, cold coffee cup in the pantry, phone in the fridge—you get the picture.  One of the most useful phrases from my childhood I hear replayed in my mind is “Where does it belong?” Growing up, when I misplaced things, rather than asking me where I had last seen it (not helpful), my mom would encourage me to look again where it belonged. Because very often, I had absent-mindedly returned the shoes to the closet, or my keys to the drawer, and I just hadn't seen it at first glance. I have spent a great deal of time collectively looking for things, in all the wrong places, when I just needed to look where they belonged. They were there waiting to be rediscovered. In the spiritual life, too, sometimes we are absentminded. We look, but we don't see. Or we look for the Lord in all the wrong places. We seek fulfillment, happiness, satisfaction, approval, and belonging where we last found it, but not in the right place. People pilgrimage to far-off lands, climb vast mountains, and travel across the earth seeking what is accessible just down the road. Entire lifetimes have been spent searching for God, as He remains patient in His Real Presence in the tabernacle, waiting for us to discover Him. To discover a life through Him, and with Him, and in Him. Sister, what are you looking for? If it is goodness you seek, if it is love, stop searching in all the wrong places. Come to the tabernacle in the nearest Catholic church. Move your feet and go to His dwelling place. We know where He is and He is waiting to welcome you into a life more deeply lived.

Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?" He replied, "Lord, please let me see." Jesus told him, "Have sight; your faith has saved you." He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God. When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God. // Luke 18:40-43 I stood in the sterile, cold hallway, under the bright white lights and let my body lean against the stark white wall.  “Overwhelmed. I just feel overwhelmed,” I choked out into the phone as my nose tingled and the tears welled up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the smell that can only be described as “hospital.” If you have been there—you know that smell. It was more than being overwhelmed, though; I felt alone. Utterly alone. The voice on the other line was too far away to be of any comfort. Jesus, where are You in all of this? As I opened my eyes, there was a man standing in front of me. He simply smiled, his chaplain badge inviting me not just to lean on him, but to tell him everything. I unloaded in a torrent of tears, finishing with, “I know the Lord will bring good from this, but it is hard.” Suddenly, I wasn't alone. Not only was the kind chaplain there, but four stories below, and at the end of the hall, Jesus waited for me in the form of the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle. The following day I found Him, and as I knelt on the bare floor I let His warmth envelop me. Thank you, Lord, for letting me see You in the kindness of the chaplain and in the form of Your True Presence in the Blessed Sacrament.  Without eyes of faith, we are unable to see Him in our everyday life. Our blindness can be from grief, pain, sin, bitterness, disappointment, or a myriad of other afflictions. Simply calling out to Him in the dark gives Him the invitation to make His presence known. But we have to call out in faith: Lord, please let me see You.  Whatever you are struggling with, sister, you are not alone. Invite Wisdom to show you the places in your life that are blinding you from Truth. Call out to the Lord and ask Him to give you eyes of Faith so that you may see Him more clearly.

When Jesus saw her, he called to her and said, “Woman, you are set free of your infirmity.” He laid his hands on her, and she at once stood up straight and glorified God. // Luke 13:12-13 I look at the piles of laundry, papers on the counter and am cognizant of the minutes I have before hungry voices come looking for food. Do I work on lunch first or get to sorting the stuff? Should I throw in the next load or have the kids get started on their own laundry? Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest but ignoring the housework is anxiety producing, not relaxing. How can we set aside the day for rest, free of work, when our vocation calls us to serve on a 24-7 clock?  As a mom and a writer, there is always something that I feel I should be doing. Changing my external habits and doing my laundry on Saturday isn’t going to change my mindset. I will simply find other ways of “working” because the work is never done.  I don’t want to neglect my responsibilities to my children or husband—I know the Lord isn’t asking that of me. Jesus shows us today that we shouldn’t ignore the needs of others. Merely doing or not doing chores won’t lead us closer to Him. Whether we are moms or not, sometimes what is needed is a shift internally in how we approach the sabbath. That is what will lead to a growth in holiness and the ability to rest in Him.  Although the sabbath is still supposed to be set aside as holy, a day of rest, in today’s Gospel Jesus shows us that the sabbath can also be a day to be set free and accept healing from the Lord. Intentionally consecrating our Sundays to Him, chores and all, may help us see where we need the Lord’s healing as well. Even the busiest of us can slow down a little, pray more, keep things simple, and focus on being with Him.   What is keeping you from really living life differently on the sabbath? How can you set your sabbath aside for the Lord?

“My sheep hear my voice,” says the Lord;  “I know them, and they follow me.” // Alleluia Verse from John 10:27 I open the door just as she ducks under water. She knows her time in the pool is up, but perhaps I will give up and return inside. It has never worked before. I wait in the doorway, neglectfully letting the cool air out to mix with the sweltering summer heat. In my mind I hear the voices of my own parents saying, “Stop air conditioning the neighborhood.”  Calling to her underwater is useless. She will ignore the muffled directives just as I did in my own Arizona childhood. Any motion by the door would cause us to flee to the bottom of the pool or take off swimming laps just so that we could have a few more minutes in the water.  And so I stand and wait until she surfaces, and she can hear me clearly.  “It’s time. Come on in.”   She knew what I was going to say before I said it, just as I knew she would try to pretend she couldn’t hear me before I even opened the door. And I realize I do the same thing. Even as an adult, there are times when I pretend I don’t hear My Father clearly. In other situations I simply stay underwater so that I can’t hear His voice. Maybe if I don’t hear the instructions clearly, I won’t have to do that hard thing I know He desires of me.  But He knows me. He knows my heart just as I know His voice. And even when it is muffled, or when I doubt the message, when I take it to prayer, the answers are clear. He will wait for me patiently. He will call to me in the depths. He will call me out of the waters. Can you hear the Lord clearly or are you ducking into the deep? What in your life is muffling his voice?

I had rather one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I had rather lie at the threshold of the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. // Psalm 84:11 I took the “Welcome Home” sign by both ends, letting the center dangle by my feet. The shiny blue letters caught the light as I stepped up on the little ladder. It was a simple thing of burlap and twine, dollar store supplies that took a few minutes to put together while dinner simmered in the background.  Welcome Home.  I was making it for me as much as for him. One more outward expression that I was glad he was home. Along with fresh sheets on his bed and clean towels on his chair, the banner was a sign that we were glad he was home.  None of it was necessary—my son knows how to change sheets and find his own towel. It was the thought, the message that the effort conveyed, that would make the difference.  Welcome Home.  We all want a place to call home—to be appreciated and missed when we are away. To feel completely accepted and loved for who we are underneath. To be understood.  As I strive to make a home for my family where they are welcomed and accepted, I recognize a longing to be more at home with the Lord and know that I am welcomed into His dwelling place, fully understood, accepted, known, and loved. I am caught between making a place here on earth—a tangible place for others to be known and loved—and a restlessness only satisfied in my Heavenly, eternal home. May the Lord allow me to lay on the threshold of His Home, to use my house as an entry point inviting people not only into my life, but also into a relationship with Him. Sister, where are you most at home? Have you intentionally invited the Lord into that space? Ask Him to give you a taste of His eternal home.

So Moses went back to the LORD and said, "Ah, this people has indeed committed a grave sin in making a god of gold for themselves! If you would only forgive their sin! If you will not, then strike me out of the book that you have written." The LORD answered, "Him only who has sinned against me will I strike out of my book. Now, go and lead the people to the place I have told you. My angel will go before you. When it is time for me to punish, I will punish them for their sin." // Exodus 32:31-34 “You are acting like a bunch of children!” I cried, full of fury. As soon as the words escaped my mouth I felt the anger dissipate, and I found the ridiculousness in the comment. The four faces, filled with features that mirrored my own, looked up at me in a mixture of shame and amusement. Shame that they had angered me so, amusement at what I had just exclaimed.  Yes. They were acting like a bunch of children. Because they were a bunch of children.  Much of my focus on parenting in the early years was directed toward simply getting my children to behave. I desired a certain level of decorum and held them to a higher standard of behavior. Embarrassingly it was because I saw those sweet children as a reflection of me. Their behavior was a type of report card on my parenting skills. A temper tantrum in the grocery store—Mom gets an “F” for the day. Sibling bickering at a high—another “F”. The dropping of a curse word—well, you get the idea.  My emotional boundaries were completely disordered. My self-esteem and very identity were unhealthily enmeshed in their obedience and behavior. The wrath I felt when they disobeyed came from a desperate fear that I wasn’t parenting well enough. Having boundaries with others is not simply about saying no when you are over-programmed. It can also be related to having clarity in your level of responsibility for the behavior of others.  Moses pleaded with the Lord to forgive his people in the same way so many of us plead today with the Lord to have mercy on children, siblings, and friends who have gone astray. Their behavior is not a reflection of our goodness or worth. Unless we are leading others to sin, we are not responsible for the choices they make. Each of us is accountable only for the choices we make.  Are there relationships about which you need to pray for guidance and clearer boundaries? Who can you pray for today? Who can you entrust to the Lord?

She said to herself, "If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured." Jesus turned around and saw her, and said, "Courage, daughter!  Your faith has saved you." // Matthew 9:21-22 I lay in bed, letting my mind explore the thought to which I had awoken. The light of early summer already illuminated the room and the smell of my husband's coffee drifted up the stairs to the quiet sanctuary of my bed. I am not bold by nature, and once again the Lord was calling me interiorly into the unknown. In His gentle way, He was inviting me out of the routine, the safety, the normal, to do something uncomfortable.  As a psychologist, I know that we are in a constant state of equilibrium and disequilibrium. The disequilibrium or cognitive conflict causes us to shift, adapt, and grow as we strive to recalibrate our lives to new situations. Even with this knowledge, I remain attached to my comfort. Adventure or newness isn't something I seek. Meeting new people gives me genuine anxiety. I order the same thing each time at a restaurant. When I find a new author, I want to read everything she or he has written before moving on to someone else. I love living in the known.  But repeatedly the Lord calls us into the unknown. He invites each one to show courage and trust in Him. Some of us wait to put our trust in Him until we have no other options. We exhaust every option and only turn to Him once we have nowhere else to turn.  Sister, how might we live with greater faith and courage each day, like the woman in today’s Gospel (see Matthew 9:18-26)? Sit with the Lord in silence today, reach out to His cloak, and ask Him to show you an area where you can love Him more courageously, be uncomfortable, and open yourself to deepen your gift of faith. 

Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. // Matthew 6:1-2 When my oldest was just a baby, I used to put him on the counter in a baby seat while I cooked. We talked as he watched me bustle about the kitchen. As he grew bigger he would imitate little phrases or gestures, even trying one day to nurse his baby doll while I nursed his infant sibling. That little guy is now a young man living in another state, yet he is still watching how I respond, what I post or say or do, and how I live my daily life.  I am conscious that I continue to be a model for him. Our children will choose what to do (and what not to do), using their childhoods as a foundation. Am I modeling righteousness? Consistently modeling virtue is at the same time both important and difficult. Jesus instructs us to perform righteous deeds, but not so that we are seen. This does not mean doing them in darkness in some invisible way, rather it means our intentions should be pure. We should conduct ourselves with virtue out of love for the Lord, not to be seen or simply to be a good role model.  It is good to watch our speech or actions carefully, but the orientation of our hearts needs to be on the Lord, not on the world. I admit there are times when I simply bite my tongue because I don't want to say something in the presence of my children. I am still striving to consistently orient my heart to such a love for God and union with His will, that righteousness comes as an extension of love. Sister, we should respond with kindness because it is the right thing to do, not just because we want to be a good example. We need not blow a trumpet so that our friends or family can see how holy we are. Rather, if we consistently live a life of love for the Lord, we spread light in the darkness, and draw others to that light.