Jesus said to his disciples: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.” // John 14:27 I stood at the kitchen counter and breathed in deeply, trying to shut out the sounds of the family’s morning rush. I said a silent prayer asking for humility and direction to counteract my momentary frustration. “I am sorry I just barked at you. That was an overreaction. Please forgive me.” I looked into the eyes of my teenager and handed her a sandwich to cram into the baggie before stuffing it into the lunchbox that dangled from the crook in her arm. She looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude, a combination that she has mastered in her fourteen short years. After a quick kiss on the cheek and an off-handed, “Um-kay. Love you, mom,” she is out the door. I have tried to instruct my children that no one can steal their peace—it is something that they choose to surrender when they relinquish their self-control and respond rashly. And yet I fail to consistently model a peaceful heart. I want to cultivate a peaceful home for my family, and yet I recognize that my attempts to do so invite a worldly peace, rather than the peace of Christ. Turning off the background noise, keeping the home free of clutter, lighting scented candles, and having fresh flowers—these are wonderful practices, but they don’t necessarily invite the peace of Christ. The peace of Christ comes only when we have a personal relationship with Him. It is cultivated through prayer, not cute pillows for the couch. It is cultivated at the tabernacle, not at Target. It is peace that is cultivated interiorly, rather than externally. Prayer, Scripture, and the Sacraments are the path of peace. How can you invite peace into your heart and home today?

“I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.” // John 10:11 We stood on the empty dance floor and listened to the instructor count out the time: One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three. The dancer in me felt the rhythm inherently, and I waited patiently for my fiancé to catch the beat. We muddled through the waltz with frustration as I tried to move us back in sync and step. The instructor stopped mid-song. “There can only be one of you leading—one leading and the other following.” I waited for him to tell my fiancé that I should be the lead because I had such amazing natural rhythm, but he did just the opposite. To my humiliation, he instructed me to stop fighting my dance partner and to relax. I was trying so hard to stay on rhythm that I was fighting the dance. A dance is beautiful when it is done together. It is syncopated movement, rather than a battle for control. So too in the spiritual life. How deeply I desire for more syncopated movement with the Holy Spirit. But my pride and my desire for control sometimes destroy what could be a beautiful dance with the Lord. I need to simply relax and feel His arms around my waist, holding onto my hand, and tune out the beat of the world. He is truly Our Good Shepherd. We know His voice, and He knows ours. He is the leader of our flock, and it is up to us to choose to follow or instead to try to lead ourselves. What areas in your life are you tempted to control rather than surrender to the Lord? How can you offer those to the Good Shepherd? Listen to Today's Devotion

And now, Lord, take note of their threats, and enable your servants to speak your word with all boldness[.] // Acts 4:29 We sat across the table from one another on our weekly lunch date as I filled him in on my newest recording with excitement. As thrilled as I was that I had landed a high-profile guest for my podcast episode, I could tell from the hesitation in his look that his enthusiasm was not the same. As the chatter around us continued and the servers bustled behind the counter, he gave me a loving warning: “Be careful.” After carefully tiptoeing around the tough topics, this fifth season I was jumping into potential controversy with almost every episode. Boldness and the controversy it can bring do not come naturally to me. Growing up a middle child, I was always the peace keeper of the family, retaining that role still as I find myself firmly in middle age. I have very thin skin when it comes to receiving criticism, yet I felt called this season to speak the truth in all things with that boldness that comes from above. The gift to act boldly without fear can only be received when one trusts deeply in the Lord and His power to protect and heal. This trust must be cultivated. Perhaps my reluctance to cover controversial topics earlier was grounded in a lack of trust, or perhaps the timing lay in my need to cultivate the trust of my listeners. Boldness does not mean one acts rashly or without careful thought. It means that we act guided by prudence with confidence and strength in our word and deed. How can you open your heart to trust more deeply in the Lord? I invite you to ask for a posture of openness so that you can receive the gift of boldness in speech and action both, that you may witness daily a life filled with trust and surrender.

Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. // Hebrews 11:1 “How do you know that there is a God?” My college dorm room suddenly felt even smaller than it already was, and the eyes of my doubting roommates rested upon me in anticipation of a reply. The question threw me off-balance. The secular atheism I faced at my very liberal women's college was something new for me. I was a cultural Christian who had grown up in a family of faith. Friends had been mostly Christian or Jewish up until that autumn when I entered an entirely new world. I explained the best I could that was easy for me to believe, and if I was wrong I hadn't lost anything by believing, but that they certainly had by not believing. It wasn't perhaps the best theological response, but it was all I could muster in the moment. And it was honest. Believing in Him was easy. We all believe in things we can not see. We believe the world is turning. We believe that we are breathing in oxygen. We believe in love. We believe in our own futures, dreams, and aspirations. Now, as a mature adult, I have a somewhat different answer. My faith is a lived personal experience rather than an intellectual possibility. I know Jesus is true God and true Man because I have encountered Him. I know God is my Creator and my good and loving Father because I experience His love. I know the power of the Holy Spirit because I receive His grace daily. Saint Thomas Aquinas wrote: “Unbelievers are in ignorance of things that are of faith, for neither do they see or know them in themselves, nor do they know them to be credible. The faithful, on the other hand, know them, not as by demonstration, but by the light of faith which makes them see that they ought to believe them.” Answering the question of our belief in God is not merely knowing the reasons for His existence with our minds. Faith in the unseen is itself an extremely personal act of free will that brings us closer to knowing Him more completely. Take a moment and ask yourself now: how deep is my belief? “Lord, I do believe, help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).

I urge you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree in what you say, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and in the same purpose. // 1 Corinthians 1:10 I have never been one to jump into a conflict. Most of the time, I am strong in my convictions and intentional about my choices. Yet I avoid disagreements as much as I can. At the heart of my avoidance is the recognition that I am not responsible for other people's choices or opinions. Which is not to say that I am reticent to share my own ideas. I would be a fairly poor author, podcaster, and speaker if I was unwilling to share my thoughts. But once those views are voiced, it is up to the individual to choose what to do with them. I don't need to debate anyone. The Second Reading today from Saint Paul’s letter to the Corinthians says we are to be “united in the same mind and in the same purpose.” The Apostles had little time to disagree or battle with others inside or outside their circle. They were instructed to preach the Good News of Jesus Christ to all the world with one voice. There was one message to be told in each of the Apostle's own words. If people choose to accept that message—then praise be to God. But if they rejected the teaching, the Apostles were not instructed to sit and argue with the unbeliever until he or she was convinced. When we take it upon ourselves to argue and disagree with others, it can open ourselves to the sin of pride. Pride turns our focus away from our own spiritual growth or mission to evangelize and leads us to be overly concerned with the thoughts and ideas of others. Pride leads us towards division and disagreement, and division and disagreement are not of the Lord. So unite yourself to the Lord’s purpose. Do your part, speak your mind, share your life and witness, then let the Gospel message simmer in the lives of those who are yet unwilling to fully accept the truth. Listen to today's audio devotion.

Now our high priest has obtained so much more excellent a ministry as he is mediator of a better covenant, enacted on better promises. // Hebrews 8:6 My first year of college, I realized that my desire to be a pediatrician was not really in line with my natural gifts. Rather, psychology was my calling. It was the first thing I wanted to study each day, and so I would save the psychology subject matter till the end of my day as a reward. If you are thinking “what a nerd,” you are quite right! I embrace that aspect of myself proudly. But there was one area that always seemed to give me trouble: statistics. As a psychology major who pursued graduate study, I had to endure a lot of statistics classes. Mean versus median, moderator versus mediator—I had to keep looking up these elementary concepts. When reading Hebrews today I found myself again, twenty years removed from my last stats class, looking for a refresher on the vocabulary. A mediator is a mechanism that causes an effect on the relationship between two things. If one thing is affected by another thing, sometimes there is something in between (a mediator) that is actually responsible for the effect. A mediator can also be the variable or mechanism that explains the relationship between two other variables. It is the statistical ‘go-between’ that is responsible for the effect between the two variables. And it is a Biblical term that can be used in a theological way. In Hebrews today, we read that the heavenly priesthood of Jesus places Him as a mediator of the new covenant between God and His people. I don't suggest that Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior is reduced to a statistical variable, but rather that through Him our relationship with God the Father is affected. Our relationship is made new and different because of the life and death of Jesus Who offered His Body as a living sacrifice. Moreover, He not only gave of Himself in atonement of our sins, but He is continually present to us in the Mass, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, to bring us to the Father. And that radically changes the equation for our eternal lives. Spend some time today thinking about how you best relate to Jesus in your daily life. Listen to today's audio devotion.

The desert and the parched land will exult; the steppe will rejoice and bloom. They will bloom with abundant flowers, and rejoice with joyful song. // Isaiah 35:1-2 I live in the desert. Well, that is not entirely accurate. I live in a city, which is in a desert. It is hot, dry, and brown. My kids wear shorts year-round, and we struggle to keep our lawns green and gardens sheltered from the unrelenting heat of the Arizona sun. When I was younger, I longed to live where it was green. I wanted to live where it rained and where flowers grew in abundance. I wanted to wear boots and sweaters for more than just a few weeks after Christmas. After graduating high school, I said goodbye to the desert and left for California. It was still sunny, but it was a lot prettier and certainly much greener. Every school break, I would drive home alone across that desert and gaze upon it in wonder. By the end of my four years, I loved the desert. You see, even in the parched land of the Sonoran there are blooms. They aren’t as plentiful, but they are striking. The century plant bloom is just as large as the base plant itself, and the stalk on which the bloom grows can be forty-feet tall. It is called the century plant because although it actually blooms about every twenty-five years, it seems to take a century! There are seasons in our lives when it seems like things just won't bloom. Seasons when we are waiting and our patience is being strengthened. Sister, God is there with us in the ugliness before the bloom. He is waiting in your desert, and He knows the perfect time for our lives to blossom. Advent is a time not just of waiting, but of preparation. As we sit in the desert of our own lives, we can choose to either sit idly by and complain or patiently prepare for our blooming. If you are in a period of waiting, spend some time today praying about how God may be preparing you for the next season. Ask the Lord to make His presence known and help you to intentionally prepare your heart for what is coming. [bctt tweet="He knows the perfect time for our lives to blossom. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives." // Luke 21:17-19 I imagine myself standing in the crowd. Jesus paints a pretty grim picture. I will be persecuted, handed over by my friends and family, betrayed, and maybe even put to death. And yet after a litany of abuse He predicts that I will endure, He concludes that not a hair on my head will be destroyed and that my perseverance will secure my life. Would I have followed Him? If I had been in that crowd with sandals on my feet, standing in the dusty earth? Would I have left to go home? Or would I have remained? If I knew that following Him would bring pain, would my faith in His divine power and the promise of everlasting life be strong enough? Most of us are not asked to proclaim the truth of Jesus before kings or governors. We live in countries and communities where we are free to practice our faith. It is easy to pray behind closed doors and worship in peace and privilege at open churches. But when we are asked to walk outside our comfort zone and take risks with our evangelization, how do we respond? I faced this in my own life in the past few years. When I was first invited by my diocese to host a podcast, I admit that fear almost kept me from turning on the microphone. When I was asked to write my first book, my discomfort with opening my heart to strangers threatened to keep the thoughts carefully locked in the computer file. Each time I am asked to speak, I still worry that someone will think what I say is unworthy of their time. But when I say yes to my calling to evangelize, what dies each time is my pride and in its place my humble trust in the Lord grows. Following the Lord comes with risk, but when we aren't willing to risk our lives for Him, it is our eternal life that we risk losing instead. Are you ready to take the risk? Will you remain with Him? [bctt tweet="Following the Lord comes with risk, but when we aren't willing to risk our lives for Him, it is our eternal life that we risk losing instead. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ. // Ephesians 5:21 I used to bristle at the scripture found in the first selection for today's reading. As a young woman, I would sit in the pew wondering how the priest was going to justify the words of Saint Paul who told men and women how to act and treat one another. The word "subordinate" was used not just once, but three times. What about the words respect or love? “Why doesn’t he expressly write that I deserve respect?” I would fume. And then I met a man, fell in love, got married, and started a family. In the last two decades together and as our family has matured, the words have taken upon a new meaning. Although they all have things in common with one another, our daughters are different from our sons in many ways, and my husband and I interact with them differently as a result. All of my children need both love and respect, but the boys seem to receive love in a special manner through the respect I give them. When I show the girls love in their own ways, they feel valued, cherished, and respected. My children also are learning that there is uniqueness in interacting with mom and dad. They have grown to realize that disrespecting their father is the quickest means to gaining a punishment, whereas the way to break my heart is to make me feel unloved. Saint Paul didn’t tell men to disrespect their wives or tell women to stop loving their husbands. Rather, he merely turned to focus on the interaction towards love and respect in differential ways because we are different. And different is good. There is a special beauty that is to be found in living a life where we put the needs of another first as a real expression of love and respect for that person. In the most simple way, we are subordinate to one another when we open the door for a stranger or allow someone to pass ahead of us in line. We are choosing to let someone else go first or to be first. Being subordinate in other more difficult ways, holding our tongue when we want to rant or listening when we want to respond in anger, really can require a heavy dose of God’s grace. However, offering ourselves freely as a gift in the moment can itself be a true expression not just of love of neighbor but of love of God. [bctt tweet="Put the needs of another first. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

He said to them in reply, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.” // Luke 8:21 The morning my husband was born, his mom went fishing. She floated peacefully in the boat across from her sweet husband and watched him bait his hook, then cast out again and again. The April Arizona air provided for a chilly morning, but the sun warmed everything perfectly as it rose, giving indications of the warmer temperatures to come. They spent the day basking in the sun and cool waters of the lake, sharing a picnic before strolling back to shore, completely unaware that the birth of their first-born son was taking place in a hospital just miles away. Days later my mother-in-law got a call from the adoption agency that my husband had been born and was waiting to be picked up. My husband was given a beautiful life with a mother and father, sister and brother who loved and cared for him perfectly. Their relationship was defined not by blood, but by action, and more specifically by the action of love. When I look at my four children, I too want them to experience my motherhood as one that is not based on genetics, but rather action. To be a mother, or a sister or brother, is a relationship of great intimacy and one that is forged not simply by proximity or bloodline, but by the daily choices we make to love. Lord, help me to be a mother and a sister to more than just those with whom I share a name. Help me to extend my familial circle by loving both more deeply and more widely, knowing that that source of love comes from You and is eternal. [bctt tweet="Love comes from You. // Dr. MaryRuth Hackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. // Matthew 1:20 Fear is a funny thing. I see it crop up in my life in the dark hours of the night. I wake up at 3 a.m. and toss and turn. The temperature is both too hot and too cold all at the same time. The fan whirs softly, and the clock ticks rhythmically. And that is when my mind drifts to the fearful. I lay in the darkness of my room and sense a spiritual darkness lurking as it whispers its lies. My weapon against this fear is simply prayer. The Lord’s prayer, perfectly paired with Saint Michael’s, is the ultimate one-two-punch. I have learned not to entertain the fearful thoughts once my head hits the pillow. I save my concerns for morning prayer that comes with the light of the new day. Frequently when examined with a fresh mind and a peaceful heart, the concerns can be addressed with logic or turned over to the Lord and surrendered. In today’s Gospel, we read of the Lord speaking to Joseph’s fear regarding his marriage with Mary. Joseph had gone to bed with the resolve to divorce her quietly, but an angel of the Lord spoke to him clearly and said, “Do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home” (Matthew 1:20). What are you afraid of? Have you turned your fears over to the Lord for comfort or guidance? Are you listening to His reply? Take a moment to ponder this question and ask the Lord to illuminate your mind to any fears that are holding you back from doing His will. [bctt tweet="What are you afraid of? // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” // Matthew 23:12 She has a quiet humility. Sitting across from me on the patio, she crosses her slim ankles and leans forward into the dialogue. Quick to listen and patient to respond, she is intentional and thoughtful. By her actions, through the sharing of her thoughts and the way she lives her life, she invites me to join her path to holiness. As she reveals her imperfections, her doubts or struggles, she silently encourages me to examine my own. When she shares her prayers, she gives me a new perspective on my own prayer life. She evangelizes not in the way of the scribes and Pharisees, but as a servant of God. She humbles herself, unafraid to be vulnerable, and in this humility I see holiness. It is the opposite of the ‘check-the-box’ holiness I struggle against. As a convert, I was quick to embrace the rules and learn the traditions. The deeper relationship with the Lord, the humility from seeing my own weakness and celebrating that as a chance to rely more on God has taken longer to develop. When I spend time with my friend, I know that there is more. I know that I can have a deeper reliance on the Lord. I can surrender to Him more fully. I can love Him more deeply. I pray that one day I will be that witness of a life well lived for Christ—not the life of the Pharisee or scribe, but the life of a beloved disciple. Spiritual pride is a sneaky thing, but seeing someone live a life of surrender and humility shows me my own pride and how God’s grace is needed in my life. May we all learn to exalt Him as we humble ourselves and to do everything for the Glory of God, out of love for Him. [bctt tweet="May we all learn to exalt Him as we humble ourselves and to do everything for the Glory of God, out of love for Him. // @maryruthhackett " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Jesus said: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” // Matthew 11:28-30 I stood in the kitchen of my childhood home with my arms around my mother’s shoulders, holding her close. We fit together, these adult bodies, mirrored in shape and size. Her arms were as much home to me as are the tile floors, pine cabinets, and blue countertops in our midst. She had taken on the responsibility of hosting another holiday gathering for the family, and I could tell it had drained her. I had brought with me my own stresses and worries from my life as a mom and welcomed the embrace, releasing my emotional load into her arms. We took turns breathing deeply, neither wanting to break the embrace. Together we were safe and strong. Our unspoken burdens were made lighter by the yoke of love that extended across our weary shoulders. We couldn’t stay wrapped in our hug for long. The duties of the day required us to break from our embrace and see to the pots and pans, the children and guests. But we could remain attached to the yoke of the Lord. We can allow Him to shoulder our burdens, direct our steps, and move us along at the right pace. Jesus also calls us to that embrace, and He will never be the first to take away His arms. The yoke of His love is there for us to take. He has offered it. This embrace is a yoke that will tie us together, fit carefully across our shoulders so that the burdens are light. It fits across His weary shoulders and provides a frame for distributing the weight. It gives us the opportunity to rest mentally as we allow our progress to be directed by Him to Whom we are attached. This yoke is our free choice and fit just for us. It allows us to share the load, but also to move in tandem with Him throughout our day. As you pick up your burden today, consider sharing it with the Lord. His arms are open and ready to accept all you have to share. [bctt tweet="His arms are open. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The seventy-two returned rejoicing, and said, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your name." Jesus said, "I have observed Satan fall like lightning from the sky. Behold, I have given you the power to 'tread upon serpents' and scorpions and upon the full force of the enemy and nothing will harm you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven." // Matthew 10:17-20 I am really scared of two types of creatures—snakes and scorpions. I know that there are many non-venomous types of snakes, but that does not prevent the fear that grips me when I see a gardener snake slithering across my path. I am an Arizona native, so I have seen my share of rattlesnakes (two to be exact) and scorpions (two of my kids have been bitten), and I admit to having partaken in a few snake killings on our property. You would think my fear would be a bit diminished. Nope. They still give me serious shakes. When I read the words of Jesus today, I know that a fair number of the seventy-two He was speaking with were also probably less than excited about walking on serpents and scorpions. Jesus tells them He has given them the power to tread upon serpents and scorpions and the full force of the enemy and nothing will harm them. He is telling them to move through life with physical, spiritual, and emotional confidence. He instructs them to trust that nothing the devil, nor earthly creatures, will do can do real harm to them. For while the Lord sometimes protects our bodies, He always protects our souls. That is pretty amazing. And yet this spiritual and physical invincibility is not even worth rejoicing over in comparison to the promised gift of life in Heaven. I am not able to walk on snakes and scorpions unharmed—nor do I want to—but I do aspire to have my name written in the book of Heaven. I long for that spiritual certainty that I will one day enter the Kingdom. It is up to each of us to decide if we want to be like the seventy two. Do you embrace your vocation in the way Jesus instructed, snakes and scorpions and all? Are you trusting enough to trust the Lord completely? Can you shake off the dust of your feet when you face rejection? Can you leave that baggage you daily drag around and trust more fully in the Lord? Let’s leave all that behind and focus on the Lord while He writes our name in Heaven. [bctt tweet="Trust the Lord completely. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Jesus knew what they were thinking, and said, “Why do you harbor evil thoughts?” // Matthew 9:4 I am not a mind reader, but after being a mother for nineteen years, I have gotten pretty good at making guesses. I don't even always have to see the person to know if I am getting a crazy look. Raising teenagers will help one hone her inference skills. Teens have an uncanny ability to fully express their emotions when you aren't looking at them. I love to pretend like I am shocked when I catch my thirteen year old giving me a look of total disgust right behind my back. Often my mock outrage leads to us succumbing to a fit of giggles and then a sheepish apology for her disrespect, followed by a more open discussion of whatever was really making her mad and how she could communicate better in the future. Jesus, on the other hand, could read minds, and He can read ours now too. Our eye rolls, frustrations, disgust, or disappointment are all written clearly on our minds and hearts. Jesus loves our hearts. He is attentive to our hearts. And although He knows the answer, He asks us the same question today: Why do you harbor evil thoughts? Jesus poses this rhetorical question in order to motivate us to seek the answer. Why am I irritated with this person? Why do I struggle with patience in these situations? Why was I so quick to anger? Why did I fall into sin? He calls us to a deeper understanding of ourselves, our own emotions, and our spiritual struggles. The answers to these questions shed light in our darkness and draw us closer to understanding how we can avoid those thoughts in the future. Next time you are tempted by your thoughts, consider examining the situation with clarity, ask for forgiveness, and talk it over with Jesus. [bctt tweet="Jesus loves our hearts. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"And if anyone hears my words and does not observe them, I do not condemn him, for I did not come to condemn the world but to save the world." // John 12:47 Growing up I had a best friend. She was the kind you read about in novels. She stayed the night, went on vacation with us, and knew all my innermost secrets. Part way through high school we both got boyfriends, made new friends, and began to drift apart. There was an awkwardness that had emerged, which was confirmed through the grapevine of gossip: “She feels like you judge her, and she is never good enough.” As hard as it was to hear the truth of my failings, the reality surrounding the dissolution of that friendship was important for me to understand. "Don’t judge, just love" is a theme I have since tried to adopt. When we judge each other, it separates us from love. Judgment justifies our feelings of pride and breaks the bonds of friendship. It divides us. As my children continue their walk through the double-digit ages, I am trying to encourage them to pray for their friends, rather than to judge them. I want them to have courage to speak up when they see something wrong, but not to make larger assumptions about character. I too am still trying to love and pray for others when I am tempted to judge. Love will convert hearts, not words of chastisement. Jesus saves each soul through His love and sacrifice, not through my words of condemnation. Can we live more like Jesus this week as we strive to judge less and love more? Is there someone in your life you could pray for rather than judge? [bctt tweet="Love will convert hearts. // Dr. MaryRuth Hackett " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But the LORD is with me, like a mighty champion: my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph. In their failure they will be put to utter shame, to lasting, unforgettable confusion. // Jeremiah 20:11 Great-Grandma Ann used to say that there were three topics that made for impolite conversation: child-rearing, religion, and politics. I chuckle to myself when I think of her stating this since I write on religion and childrearing both. In the quiet, I read the works of scholars and academicians, formulate my thoughts, and draw my conclusions. As a writer, I share my ideas and my heart. They are a transparent gift offered to anyone willing to exchange their time for my thoughts. Yet I admit that I do not possess a quickness of wit beneficial in discussion. I am not talented in rhetoric or debate. I draw back from arguments and contentious conversations, even those about faith. In dialogue, thoughts have to be defended to those who seek to convince and correct. On the rare occasion when I have been lured into debate, I have left shaken and disappointed because instead of being accepted I had to defend my ideas to someone else. The Gospel readings (John 10:31-42) today unsettle my heart as I place myself in the audience, watching as not only His ideas, but Jesus’ very life is challenged. The prophet Jeremiah likewise writes of the threat he was under because of the truth he declared. Jesus and Jeremiah rose to the challenge with courage of heart, knowing that they were on the side of righteousness. Perhaps like me, you shy away from discussion of faith or the Church. Are you comfortable declaring what you know is true with a convicted heart? If we know in our hearts that we are on the side of righteousness, why should we shrink away from sharing with others? Lord, grant that we may all have the strength and courage to speak in truth. [bctt tweet="Lord, grant that we may all have the strength and courage to speak in truth. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion