If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of God rests upon you. // 1 Peter 4:14  I was voted the next Mother Teresa in our eighth grade superlatives. There is a picture of me in the yearbook, kneeling, with my hands in prayer and eyes gazing up to heaven. It's as cheesy as you can imagine. I thought it was a cruel joke by my classmates. I was perplexed why I would have “won” this title; after all, we were attending the same Catholic school. I guess I wasn’t as Catholic-on-the-down-low or as cool as I thought. As if that wasn’t enough to bruise my ego, a classmate wrote to me, “You wear your heart on your sleeve.” I wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or as a jab at my coolness. What did everyone know about me that I didn’t? In high school I ran for class president and I cited a Scripture passage in my speech in front of the whole student body. Again, I didn’t think I was doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do.  Afterwards came the flack, though. One classmate in particular said, “I can’t believe you would quote Scripture.” And, yes, he covered his mouth, snickered, pointed, and laughed as he walked away. Again, a Catholic school and a flashback to eighth grade, only this time I felt the sting of embarrassment. After several more of these encounters, I have been able to sift through these experiences and search for their meaning. I have found that all of these words have been pointing to something greater that I was not seeing before because of my pride. They all point to my relationship with Jesus in one way or another.  Sister, when have you been teased or belittled because of the way you live your faith? Take time to ponder these moments and ask the Holy Spirit to shed light on the truth of your identity as a daughter of God. Ask the Lord to take away your shame and fill you with truth.      

My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless, and without water.  // Psalm 63:2 My friend shares a photo of the beautiful basilica she is visiting on Instagram, and, a couple of posts down, she shares about taking loaves of freshly baked bread to her local Sisters of Charity. My other friends share an evening of praise and worship at a Blessed Is She night. Another friend recently shared how she and her family were going to a family retreat house that has a Eucharistic chapel connected to it. I am grateful for these women who witness to me the fullness of the faith.  I can’t help but want to be where my friends are, partaking in those experiences. It offers hope to my spiritual deprivation. At the risk of sounding like a Disney princess, I want so much more for my community. I want to see the Fransican Friars of the Renewal walking along the Las Vegas Strip and in our downtown area. What a sight it would be if religious Sisters and Brothers were in greater abundance than the slot machines that take tourists’ money before they even sit down.  I want to see my newly named archdiocese through the same kaleidoscopic lens as I see other archdioceses and dioceses.  Maybe you're like me and you have been in the same city you were born in and change has felt slow. The desert can feel that way. It's hard to believe there is an oasis after journeying through so much parched land.   The longings we have are never in vain. We only have to look to the Old Testament to be reminded of the ways God hears the good, deep yearnings of our hearts.  Sister, is there an action you can take today to ignite the desire Jesus has placed in your heart as His disciple? As the lay faithful, let's empower each other to build up God’s Kingdom right here, right now.   My prayer is for all of us to align our wills with the Lord’s and to allow Him to use our longings for His greater glory. May our thirst be fulfilled with the drink He offers us.

“Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” // John 10:9-10 It was my first time on a yacht in the ocean, and until then seasickness had been a foreign concept to me. I remember the doctor giving me a shot on the arm and falling fast asleep. When morning came I woke up with vomit up all over my arm. Creeping over to my cabin window, I peered through the shade. The water was calm, it was crystal clear, and it was a turquoise blue that I had never seen before in any body of water. It was truly breathtaking.  I had been hired as a nanny on this private yacht for a milestone birthday celebration. This world that I had entered into was completely detached from my everyday life. There were new menus created daily, my cabin was turned down every night, and when I had free time I would go up to the deck, gaze at the incredible view, and play with the golf simulator (mostly because it was there—not because I was an avid golfer).  I could see where this world could sweep one away with all of its excess and luxury. It would be easy to find pasture here and think it is a life of abundance (see John 10:10).  Spending time with the invited guests reminded me of Christ’s words, “For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be” (Matthew 6:21). The “treasure” of excess and luxury can feel like the pinnacle of fulfillment. This trip through the Southern Caribbean overwhelmed me with a sense of what the thieves in our lives can be when we do not have our eyes fixed on our Good Shepherd: wealth, social media, material possessions, excessive preoccupation about the future, obsession over politics, academic superiority, etc. There is much that can deter us from living a truly abundant life when we don’t enter through the gate.  Sister, what thief have you allowed to interfere with your relationship with Jesus? Pray again with today’s Gospel (John 10:1-10) and listen to the stirrings of your heart.

“I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?' I replied, ‘Who are you, sir?’ And he said to me, ‘I am Jesus the Nazorean whom you are persecuting.’” // Acts 22:7-8 I walked into the packed church, blessed myself with holy water, genuflected before entering the pew, and knelt down to pray. It was so incredibly noisy that I couldn’t seem to focus. Instead of gazing at the crucifix, I decided to close my eyes to block out the surrounding chatter. It wasn’t working. I opened my eyes and saw football jerseys, short skirts, and workout attire. Parishioners walked by the altar and neglected to genuflect before the tabernacle.  Where is the reverence here? I thought. I will never become a parishioner here.  I could feel myself becoming more and more agitated at what I judged to be poor church etiquette. I was here to scope out a new parish since becoming a Mrs. and moving across town.  I had been formed by an Irish priest who had zero tolerance for anyone who showed any disrespect in God’s house. From the pulpit, he would tell parishioners to dress their very best for Sunday Mass as it wasn’t optional. I can still hear him say, “If you wouldn’t wear it to meet the president of the United States, don’t wear it here.” As God would have it, I did join this parish. But I didn’t forget the truths about showing reverence that were instilled in me. On the contrary, Jesus softened my heart to have compassion for those who hadn’t encountered Him or been taught that physical posture and dress have meaning. Only through a real relationship with Jesus Christ do you learn reverence for love broken open on the Cross and desire to show it with your body. Instead of seething at my pew, Jesus asked me to see the good of my neighbor despite his or her lack of understanding. I have since learned reverence cannot be imposed on a person that has never been taught. The flock is always teaching and lifting up one another in whatever we lack collectively through our witness. Sisters, let us ask Jesus in humility to break down the barriers of judgment that we carry. May our Good Shepherd unify us and guide us towards radiating His mercy towards one another.

The waters of the river gladden the city of God, the holy dwelling of the Most High. // Psalm 46:5 When it rained you could smell the moss from the nearby río (Spanish for “river”), the toads croaking, and the fresh wood that had just been cut, along with the odor of horse poop. It was the mixture of smells that awakened my senses as a child to another dimension. The pitter-patter of the rain falling into the río was my favorite sound. I became mesmerized by it. Where was the water going down the río? What adventures did the water have to tell?  My mom’s hometown of Magdalena, Sonora Mexico, was a welcome change of pace for this inner-city girl.  I didn’t have this kind of access to the sights and sounds nature had to offer in Las Vegas, Nevada, so when we visited family in Mexico it made up for my neon-lights, concrete-jungle, twenty-four-hour city that never sleeps.  I felt like I was in a children's book because the río was the uninhibited playground my cousins and I would play in.  We would splash, skip rocks, and run in the río. The rocks under the water were not the softest landing place for little feet, but I didn’t care (crocs weren’t a thing yet). I was inside a page from a book and I was free.  The Psalm (see Psalm 46) for today reminds me of how Jesus used water in His teachings to demonstrate the goodness of God: “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink” (John 7:37), and “whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14).  The río was more than just a natural stream of flowing water to me; it pointed toward God’s goodness. God doesn’t operate out of scarcity. He is a God of abundance, and that río witnessed that to me.  Sister, do you have a memory about a río, lake, or another body of water that has witnessed to you the goodness of God? Let’s offer up our praise for these gifts.

There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her. // Luke 38:42 I can’t tell you how many times I have read today’s Gospel and have tried to make a case for Martha. I know Jesus says, “Mary has chosen the better part . . . ” (Luke 38:42), but I’m secretly rooting for my girl because I identify with her struggle. Is it really that bad that she is so hospitality oriented?  To be honest, I’m slightly jealous of Mary. Her disposition to receive Jesus and be at his feet is a posture that doesn’t come naturally to me. Although I wouldn’t have called out my sister to help me, I would have felt the lack of help festering and boiling up within—and pretended to be okay with it all.  Perhaps it’s people pleasing or a misguided sense of control, but I can’t help but feel compassion towards Martha. It’s not because I lack faith or a deep reverence for Jesus, but I’m used to living in service of others. However well-intentioned my service-oriented heart is, it keeps me from choosing the better part in my daily life.  Maybe the part that Martha and I are missing is that while Jesus wants us to serve Him, we cannot do it well without spending time like Mary. The better part is being present to Jesus in times of prayer and learning how to be present to Him even as we serve.  Jesus probably knew how our human minds would be wired for productivity instead of learning to be in His presence. He knew that distraction was a fast-track way to distance ourselves from Him.  Distraction is disguised as many good things: volunteering for your parish community, hosting playdates for your toddler(s), being a room mom at your child’s school, signing up to take snacks for the next soccer game, leading a book club, etc. All good but when left unchecked, can lead us away from Jesus. Sister, let’s give the Holy Spirit permission to inspire us to choose the better part like Mary, of being with Him in our daily lives.  Let’s learn from Martha and allow Him to serve our hearts, remembering He is our one need.

Nevertheless we urge you, brothers and sisters, to progress even more, and to aspire to live a tranquil life, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your own hands, as we instructed you. // 1 Thessalonians 4:10-12 It was going to be another fun themed Vacation Bible School (VBS) week, and I looked forward to leading again. I couldn’t wait to partake in the singing, learn the hand motions that go along with the catchy songs, and enjoy the contagious energy of the participants. It’s pretty much an extrovert’s playground: an engaged audience, lots of people around, and being silly for Jesus.   I have always been paired with someone who I instantly click with. You know, the kind of person who reads the room with you, picks up on your nonverbal cues when it’s time to change the activity to suit the needs of the participants, adds an ice-breaker to get the kids’ attention, and pumps up the kids with you for the next station.  That had always been my experience until that summer, when I was paired with someone who wasn’t so into gelling with me. There wasn’t a mutual give and take like I had experienced in the past.   I wondered if it was something I had said or done. But like Saint Paul reminded me in the First Reading, sometimes the way to stay tranquil is to stay in my lane, or to use his words, we ought “to mind your own affairs, and to work with your own hands” (1 Thessalonians 4:10-12). This individual made it clear that we were not going to be friends post-VBS, and I resolved to not force my friendship (which, if you know me, is very challenging because I enjoy meeting new friends everywhere I go).  While I didn’t understand my partner’s indifference, I couldn’t make it personal nor allow it to break my peace. I remembered this person was loved by God the same way He loves me. Sister, we can so easily become consumed in someone else’s business—be it at VBS, the way someone attends Mass, or forming opinions of others when we do not actually know them and their circumstances. However, love of neighbor is always the antidote, and it frees us to live a tranquil life. 

“The earth has yielded its fruits; God, our God, has blessed us. May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him!” //  Psalm 67:7-8 The sunrise highlighted the vibrant purple hues from the plum trees and the warm orange tones of the apricots. The purple lines on the otherwise green figs meant they had ripened. The birds tweeted away their excitement as the juicy fruit was ready for picking—though human hands attempted to pick the fruit before feathered friends got to it. The moisture emitting from the trees as they absorbed every drop of water from the sprinklers in anticipation of warding off the excessive heat was a welcome sign that summer had arrived in the Mojave desert.  My family friend’s yard felt like its own secret garden in an otherwise parched desert. House sitting was my favorite because of this one-acre-yard which, if you are familiar with houses in Las Vegas, Nevada, is considered a real wonder.  The culmination of this oasis in the desert was the picking of the fruit for making jam. Baskets upon baskets of apricots and plums would make their way inside; all lined up in preparation to be washed, boiled, and canned. After making the jam, the surplus fruit was shared with family, friends, and neighbors. Some made it to our home parish as well.  “The earth has yielded its fruits; God, our God, has blessed us. May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him!” (Psalm 67:7-8). Those fruit trees reflected to me the goodness of God, the blessing that God imparts on us to reap and live off the land.  What a blessing it is that God allows all of this to exist for us. There is no aspect of creation that doesn’t reflect the goodness of God. The seemingly insignificant seed allows us to eat and be alive.  Where do you see God’s blessing surrounding you? It's easy during these slower summer months to fix our gaze on our screens rather than on His goodness.  Today, look for the fruitfulness He has yielded in your life, nourishing you both physically and spiritually.

“My sheep hear my voice, says the Lord; I know them, and they follow me.” //  John 10:27 I was one of those kids who wandered freely wherever my parents took me. Maybe it was because I was allowed to, and probably because things were a little different in the early 90s. My favorite roaming activity was hiding in the clothing racks at retail stores. There was something about parting the clothes to the sides, hearing the hangers screech as I made room for myself, and feeling the soft fabric against my face that made it feel like an adventure, even if I was just hiding from my mom. The only rule to my game was that as long as I could still see my mom, I was good.  When she would start looking around for me, that meant she was ready to check out. I would let her call my name a couple of times because it would make me chuckle, but I always came out of my hiding spot whenever I heard a sense of frustration in her voice.  With my dad (God rest his soul), however, it was a completely different story. We could be shopping at a Mexican market or a swap meet or I could be playing inside the arcade at a casino and all he had to do was whistle to indicate that I had to wrap things up. This whistle was unlike any other I had ever heard, and I always knew it was my dad. The moment he called me by my last name I knew it meant business. “Carrasco!” he would exclaim, and it didn’t matter who was around or where we were, that meant the show was over. Sister, Jesus says in today’s Gospel Acclamation, “My sheep hear my voice . . . I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27). Out of obedient love for God, do you allow your ears to hear His voice? Do you follow Him instantly, or do you feel like the invitation to His paternal heart is too great for you to accept?  Let's make an effort to hear God’s voice and allow ourselves to follow Him wherever we may be in our journey of faith.

Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift.  //  Matthew 5:23-24 I walked into the restaurant eager to catch up with my dear friend for breakfast. I walked by a table filled with familiar faces—friends I once spent time with regularly in another season of life. Some were friends for whom I had thrown baby showers, dropped off coffee on the porch, or enjoyed countless play dates.  As I joined my friend, I couldn’t shake that feeling of awkwardness of running into people you once knew intimately and no longer know well. Sipping my warm cappuccino, I felt the foam touch my nose. I rubbed it off and caught myself looking past my friend’s shoulder at the other table. A thunderous laughter erupted from them, distracting me from my meaningful conversation, which made me wonder why those other friendships were left unrequited and unfulfilled.   “Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift” (Matthew 5:23-24).  I used to think that a worthy gift at the altar meant knowing where I stood in all of my relationships. Yet not every fizzled-out-friendship merits an explanation, reason, or apology. There is no ill will or resentment between you. Sometimes reconciling means simply loving someone else despite not having reasonable answers for why the relationship or friendship didn’t endure.  As my friend and I got up to leave, I smiled and gestured goodbye to my past friendship table.  Today’s Gospel proclamation, “I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34), reminds us that reconciliation and love complement each other, even if it can only happen within one’s own heart. Our unrequited relationships offer us the opportunity to follow this new commandment, to ask ourselves if it is about us or the other person.  Sister, bring these relationships to the altar of the Lord, offering thanksgiving for the relationships you once had, and gratitude for the ones you have now.

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations . . . I am with you always, until the end of the age." // Matthew 28:19, 20 He walked up towards the altar in his freshly ironed suit, bowed his head, and made his way to the ambo. He carefully positioned the step stool so he could reach the microphone and began reading the First Reading for his First Holy Communion Mass. This was his first time doing something like this. This same little boy was chosen to be Baby Jesus at six months of age for the Midnight Mass even though I had originally declined the priest’s request because he was such a colicky baby. I couldn’t imagine losing another sleepless night, but the Catholic guilt set in, and we agreed. This is also the church where he was baptized. This same church is where I begged Jesus to heal our son from the strabismus he had been diagnosed with at two years of age. Same church, same kid, just a little bigger. As I witnessed our son reading at his First Holy Communion Mass, my role as mother shifted to student. The congregation faded, and it was just me listening to God's word through my son. In today’s Gospel, we read, “"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations . . . I am with you always, until the end of the age" (Matthew 28:19, 20). The call to make disciples of all nations may seem insurmountable, however, when we consider that we have been baptized by the Holy Spirit, we can be confident that we have what it takes. It's not just me teaching my kids now. It’s my children witnessing to me what it means to have faith and offer it back. Their witness is simpler. It’s filled with head knowledge, but they lead with their hearts too. They know Him and don’t have to be filled with the intelligence of Aquinas to teach the nations. We all share the baptismal call to evangelize, regardless of our age, education level, or experiences. On this Feast of the Ascension, how are you called to be a light to the nations? Does your head knowledge get in the way of allowing your heart to lead? Sister, today I am praying with you to ask the Holy Spirit to give us the grace to instruct one another with the heart of a child.

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles,"What are we to do, my brothers?” // Acts 2:37 I walked into the church and made my way into the pew, slightly flustered that I wasn’t exactly on time. I sat right in the front row because I didn’t want any distractions. I missed Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, which means I also missed getting to sing O Salutaris Hostia and Tantum Ergo. I sensed my disappointment holding me captive from entering in with a posture of receptivity. Kneeling before the Lord, I just buried my hands into my face. The yoke of everyday life had been too heavy for me to lift on my own. I looked at Him, and the tears just started rolling down like the kind of rain that rolls off a windshield, but still allows you to see while driving. “Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles, ‘What are we to do, my brothers?’" (Acts 2:37). All I did was allow Him to look at me, and it cut deep into my heart that the Lord waits for us so patiently in the Blessed Sacrament at Eucharistic Adoration. There in that moment, in front of Jesus, I felt so insignificant because of the intensity of the love that He offers to me. He doesn’t wait to guilt trip me when I drive by the Church on my way home after running errands, knowing I need to spend time with Him. During this time of National Eucharistic Revival, my attentiveness when the priest elevates the host has become a moment of wonder for me. As a cradle Catholic, there have been many moments in my journey of faith when the truths that I have always known have become reinvigorated. The beloved Pope Saint John Paul II said it best: “In that little Host is the solution to all the problems of the world” (source). Sister, what truths about the Catholic Church cut straight into your heart? Ask the Holy Spirit to breathe into that tender place of intimacy with Jesus and use that as a means of deepening your relationship with Him while evangelizing to those around you. Listen to Today's Devotion

I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness. // Isaiah 42: 6-7 She grabbed the red box that contained her baptismal candle with her sweet chubby cherub-like baby hand. Her tiny little fingers wrapped around it completely. It's like she knew there was something inside of the box that was just for her. Behind this little babe and her parents stood the sisters of our Blessed is She small group, a group of women she and her mom had only met twice before. I marveled at the fullness of the Church from discussing Dwell on our living room couch to sitting at Church together, witnessing this baby receive her first Sacrament. It was the first time I had ever served as a proxy godmother, and, after having five godchildren of my own, it didn’t make it any less special. In fact, I became more aware of the power of the witness we carry to be a “light for the nations.” “I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness” (Isaiah 42:6-7). The waters of Baptism trickled down her hair. Original Sin had been removed, and now she was an adopted daughter of God, incorporated into the Body of Christ. When she was lifted up from the baptismal font, it felt like that moment in the Lion King when Mufasa lifts up Simba and presents him to the animals of pride land. Each one of us sisters were bursting with joy. This sweet baby girl reaffirmed and reminded us of our own baptismal promises with renewed strength and hope. Sister, as we settle into the New Year, it is a good time to consider your own baptismal promises and the graces that have sprung forth and continue to grow from your first Sacrament. Today on this Feast Day of the Baptism of the Lord, spend some time in prayer thinking about how you live out your Baptismal call of Priest, Prophet, and King.

For thus says the Lord, The creator of the heavens, who is God, The designer and maker of the earth who established it, not creating it to be a waste, but designing it be lived in: I am the Lord, and there is no other. // Isaiah 45:18 My inner child marveled at the vast ocean in front of me. The breeze lifting off of the waves gently tickled the hair in front of my face—a welcome greeting I had long awaited. The kids ran in front of my husband and me and began grabbing sand and letting it slip between their fingers. The toddler’s pigtails began to look like the wings of a bird as she jumped up and down, relishing in the moment of going to the beach for the very first time. There was no car seat to inhibit her freedom or joy. We were completely immersed in the beauty surrounding us and awestruck at the Creator’s hand. The street where we had just parked felt distant, and the sound of daily life faded as the waves roared and the seagulls soared above us. “For thus says the Lord, The creator of the heavens, who is God, The designer and maker of the earth who established it, not creating it to be a waste, but designing it be lived in: I am the Lord, and there is no other” (Isaiah 45:18). The sky lit up in His glory covered with pink cotton candy clouds swirled with hues of baby blues. The drudgery of city life separates me from the created world. I can’t swap neon lights and cacti for an ocean view, but I can be more receptive to what is available to me instead of letting it go to waste by spending time on my phone or choosing some other idle activity. Sister, there is so much beauty to behold around us. We don’t have to be in front of a majestic tree in a redwood forest to acknowledge that God created the world for us to live in and enjoy. His paternal heart is reflected in every created being, including you and me. We have a Father Who loves when we delight in what He has created for us. Today create space in your heart and thank God for His creation (your Christmas tree counts too). [bctt tweet="His paternal heart is reflected in every created being. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But the Lord is faithful; he will strengthen you and guard you from the evil one. // 2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:3 I was in a myriad of Facebook mom groups when I first became a mom. I thought it would be a great way to learn some hacks and practical tips for our firstborn. Plus, it felt like a rite of passage to be added to these groups. While I never actively interacted in these groups (since I was such a newbie), I remember one distinct moment that stopped me from scrolling. A fellow mama had posted a comment that she had been given a rosary but wasn't Catholic and was seeking advice on what to do with it. The comments flooded in, “wear it as a necklace, pray with the beads, regift it, why would you need a rosary if you can go straight to Jesus?” The last comment felt different than the others. Tone is hard to convey via social media; however, I could not dismiss entering into this conversation. “But the Lord is faithful; he will strengthen you and guard you from the evil one” (2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:5). It quickly became very awkward and uncomfortable. Two strangers defending their different faiths on the Internet not knowing anything about the other, besides both being mothers. I made a case for Our Blessed Mother, and this individual used Scripture to articulate why she believed we can completely bypass her. As I began to sense the thread was beginning to make me and my faith look like I was trying to win instead of presenting truths about the Faith, I politely welcomed this individual to continue the conversation with me outside of the thread. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. The victory is not in winning arguments for my faith as much as it is having the courage to share the truth. Believing in Jesus is always going to come with some type of questioning on and offline. Sister, we may not feel equipped to fight the battles that come our way, but Jesus will provide us with the strength we need because He is faithful. All we have to do is ask Him. Let's pause and ask Him in humility for His strength and help. [bctt tweet="Jesus will provide. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. // Luke 6:12 I fall in and out of the habit of intentionally waking up to pray before the rest of the household is awake. As a mother and a wife, I know my prayer can also be active through the work of my hands when I’m unable to enter into a quieter form of prayer. Washing dishes, folding laundry, packing lunches, preparing dinner, braiding hair, sweeping the floors, and reuniting tiny lego pieces that belong to a masterpiece that has since been disassembled are forms of prayer that I can offer up. These forms of prayer are good and worthy, but for me personally, what is most fruitful is when I enter into silence. “Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God” (Luke 6:12). When I step away from my routine of chores and only focus on Jesus, I feel renewed. Even when the environment I return to is a controlled mess, the time I spend in quiet prayer fills me with calm and joy. In today’s Gospel we read that before choosing His disciples, Jesus spends time in prayer. The King of Kings could have very well chosen to be fed grapes, have servants fan Him, demand someone else to name the apostles, and yet He goes up the mountain to pray. I, too, have to get out of my routine and go pray. I have to enter into the chamber of my heart that is only reserved for Jesus and me—a place of intimacy that I don’t draw from often enough because I convince myself that active prayer is sufficient. I can only be strengthened by Him in my vocation when I am listening for Him. The silence draws me to Him in a way that my active prayer doesn’t. Sister, the work you do with your hands is a good prayer to offer to the Lord. Sometimes we need more than that though. Today, take some time to enter into silent prayer. If it's something you haven’t done before, ask Jesus to show you how. [bctt tweet="Enter into silent prayer. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Refuse no one the good in which he has a claim when it is in your power to do it for him. Say not to your neighbor, ‘Go and come again, tomorrow I will give,’ when you can give at once. // Proverbs 3:27-28 “Wow, that’s a neat gadget!” I exclaimed to my bonus father-in-law as I watched him grind the pecans. “Whaaat?” he said in his Texas drawl. I raised my voice and repeated myself. He nodded and replied, “Yeah, it does a really good job, and you can use it with other kinds of nuts too. You know I’m deaf in both ears and can’t understand what you’re saying. Do you want one?'' After almost fifteen years of knowing my father-in-law, I know now that if I compliment one of his QVC purchases, I will end up with one. Somehow it ends up in my purse or it is left on the countertop of our kitchen via my mother-in-law per my father-in-law’s request. “Refuse no one the good in which he has a claim when it is in your power to do it for him. Say not to your neighbor, ‘Go and come again, tomorrow I will give,’ when you can give at once” (Proverbs 3:27-28). I know my father-in-law is masterful at this as I think about the eleven-foot light bulb changer we asked to borrow once and now own. My father-in-law delights in others enjoying what he has, be it Slap Chop, wine opener, a cooler that also warms food, or a tortilla press. At the heart of his readiness to give is a love that runs deeper than the object itself. Today’s proverb can be understood in so many ways, “Do to others whatever you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12), “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31), or my personal favorite quote attributed to Saint Teresa of Calcutta, “Spread love wherever you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” My father-in-law encourages me to be joyful in giving to my neighbor (not just gadgets either). His kindness radiates the love of Christ. Sister, are you stingy with what you have to offer your neighbor? Let us pray for a heart that is always ready to give and that others may leave happier when they interact with us. [bctt tweet="Let us pray for a heart that is always ready to give and that others may leave happier when they interact with us. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion