In today’s reading, we see the powerful witness of what it means to not only forgive your enemy but to immediately love them and serve them in return. A couple of years ago, I had a falling out with a friend. In retrospect, I reacted to a situation imprudently and was blinded in the moment. Because we shared many mutual friends, it was important to me to rectify the situation. The opportunity to apologize presented itself; however, she did not accept my apology. If she only knew I was truly sorry and that I really had to really muster the courage to approach her (because we all know how awkward apologies can be) perhaps she would have accepted my apology. However, my hopes of reconciling were left unrequited. Perhaps what I experienced was the other side of the exchange between Saints Paul and Silas and their jailer from today's reading. However, the experience taught me to have ears to listen and a heart that desires readily to forgive when anyone hurts me. Jesus did it on the Cross when He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). How can I withhold forgiveness from anyone when Jesus Himself offers me His forgiveness? I keep this person in my prayers because she was once my friend. Our situations may not always end up with an olive branch, and it may take time to heal but there is always room to grow in mercy, love, and charity towards our neighbor. This experience with my friend taught me that forgiveness leads to a great interior freedom. I no longer was bound through my fault because I asked for forgiveness. Although my sincere apology wasn’t received as warmly as I would have liked, it brought me peace where there was uncertainty. Father, You teach us the way of forgiveness, to be merciful and to ask for forgiveness over and over again when we fall. Help us in our human relationships to reconcile when we have wounded one another. Give us hearts that are readily open to forgive and love each other. Amen. Where do you want to offer or receive forgiveness today? [bctt tweet="Father, You teach us the way of forgiveness. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Forgiving Father, thank You for sending Your Son to save us from our sins.  

I remember towards the end of a phone call with my friend, she said, “Let's pray!” We blessed ourselves over the phone, and I closed my eyes as she began to pray the words I needed to hear. The words that weren’t coming to me in prayer were coming out of her mouth so naturally, gently, and lovingly. I remember I kept nodding my head, saying yes to the prayer that was being said, her words bringing Jesus’ healing upon my troubled heart. I wonder how many times people walked by the crippled man and merely glanced at him and gave him spare change, rather than taking the time to see more in him than just his physical appearance. "Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, "Look at us"" (Acts 3:4). Perhaps this was the first time someone had acknowledged this crippled man’s presence and asked him to look up from where he was. Saints Peter and John didn’t have silver or gold to give the crippled man, but they gave him the gift of healing, powerful words: “[I]n the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk" (Acts 3:6). They believed in the power of their words and the One in Whose name they were asking to heal this man. The crippled man leaped up, stood, and walked around. Peter and John desired more for his life than begging for alms. My friend offered me a prayer and the confidence in her voice allowed me to receive her words of prayer and accept them as my own. After the call, I felt the effects of her prayer take shape in my demeanor. I felt sustained in my prayer life and grateful for the gift of her words. The gift of healing words through prayer has the power to make us new. Reach out today to someone who could use the confidence in the words that you are praying to make them feel seen like the crippled man. listen to today’s devotion [bctt tweet="Let's pray. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] Holy Spirit, make me confident and show me how to pray with my friends.  

It never occurred to me how much I took for granted of being able to receive Jesus in the Holy Eucharist of the Mass before the pandemic. We always had seats on Sundays with no reservations required, and Confession was always available. The abruptness of not being able to attend Mass revealed to me the nakedness of my soul. My heart had become like that of the Pharisee, not realizing that my good intentions of praying novenas, purchasing all of the Saint books on Amazon, attending weekly Mass, and all of the other Catholic things that I enjoyed revealed the truth: that I felt a sense of entitlement to all of these things. How much I begged for His mercy and forgiveness when I went without receiving Him. The yearning in my heart started to take shape like that of the tax collector in today’s Gospel. I saw myself as I truly am and realized that I am nothing without Jesus Christ, my Savior and Redeemer. I want to have the tax collector’s heart for Jesus and always be ready to cry out: “O God, be merciful to me a sinner” (Luke 18:13). The more aware I am of my unworthiness, the greater my ability to experience His love and all that He has given to me. How liberating it is to know how much I depend on the Father’s mercy at each moment of the day! The First Reading reminds us that “it is love that God desires, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings" (Hosea 6:6). The books next to my nightstand and those in my online cart can misalign my relationship with Jesus if I allow them to. I strive to live in the freedom of His love, not in a merit-based relationship. I previously had defaulted to getting to Mass early to catch up on all the time I had missed in prayer throughout the week. But now, Jesus and I talk all the time, and I continue begging Him for His mercy, while ditching the cart load of online books. [bctt tweet="Live in the freedom of His love. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Are you able to talk with Jesus throughout the day, recognizing His presence? Cultivate that awareness, starting today.  

Every year my goal for the New Year is to wake up before the kids so I can get my prayer time in. I need a couple of minutes to orient my thoughts, give thanks for a brand new day, and ask Jesus to help me in the areas of my life where I feel like I am falling short. And as simple as this tiny goal may seem, it’s hard for me to execute. I try to get a little bit more sleep even though I hear the baby starting to fuss and try to squeeze out a couple more seconds of enjoying my warm cozy bed. Once I pick up the baby, my prayer time seems completely out of reach; my son and daughter are hungry at the same time; they can’t find their clothes; and I’m missing the extra hands of my husband who is already out of the house. I try to reclaim my morning by finally sitting down but then the baby approaches me like a linebacker going for the tackle! I look at the crucifix in our kitchen, and I remember that this is my prayer life. The Psalmist says, “Here I am Lord; I come to do you will” (Responsorial Psalm). When I align my will to His, I’m not upset that I didn’t have the ideal morning prayer time with my coffee mug in hand or that I haven’t had a bite to eat yet. Serving these little people is the will of the Father. The will of God is in the here and now of this season of my life, not and in some fantasized idea of what that looks like. The will of God is always moving me towards growing in love, virtue, and holiness. “Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will” is the perfect prayer that I can adopt on the days that I don’t get the type of morning that I want. [bctt tweet="The will of God is in the here and now. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion How do you actively seek to do the Lord’s will and surrender your own desires however good they may be?

No regal adornments or robes of glory clothed the parents of the Christ Child; rather, two simple human beings conformed to the will of God. As I look at the image of the Holy Family on our mantle, Joseph holds Mary in a tender embrace and Mary rests her head under Joseph’s neck, with the little Babe snuggled between them. I see the fountain of love pouring out from each of them, and I am reminded of the feeling of holding a newborn baby for the very first time. Quiet and peace shroud the parents despite the events that transpired before the birth of the Baby. In that moment, you need nothing else in the world. Sometimes the Holy Family can seem so distant from my own reality, and I’m tempted to think of them as aspirational (there aren’t too many moments during the day that I can get my kids to be still like the image I have). Plus, my husband isn’t pulling the kids and me on a donkey. Despite the centuries that have gone by and advances in transportation, we are still called to the holiness of the Holy Family that has transcended time. In today’s Second Reading, Saint Paul calls us to “put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful.” (Colossians 3:12-14). The Holy Family offers us this bond of perfection and warmly invites us into their loving arms alongside the little Babe of Bethlehem. We, too, can experience this perfect love and seek holiness. It all begins with the people you welcome in your loving embrace. This kind of love doesn’t have to be aspirational. It is within reach in our own immediate family, extended family, friends, and neighbors. Gaze at the Holy Family and receive the invitation to love. Sister, the Christmas season is just getting started, open your arms wide and “put on love.” [bctt tweet="Gaze at the Holy Family and receive the invitation to love. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Who is most in need of your loving embrace right now?

My husband was at odds with the Church when we began dating. His issue stemmed from the priest at his hometown parish who said he didn’t have to attend the Confirmation retreat (thrilling for a teenager) but later changed his mind, resulting in him not receiving the Sacrament. My husband wouldn’t set foot in a church for fifteen years after that. I knew I couldn’t mend the past but always left an open invitation to attend Mass with me. However, I never pushed or made it seem like I would stop dating him if he didn’t attend Eucharistic Adoration, Mass, or special feast days with me. I wasn’t certain this was the man I would marry anyway, so instead of focusing solely on discerning marriage, I instead prayed for his relationship with Jesus to be restored. On one particular Sunday, my husband decided to join me. I didn’t prepare him on how to attend Mass or give him a lesson on Church etiquette. A well-formed congregation witnesses the outward signs of the Mass, and I knew my husband would catch on quickly if he so desired. The church we attended was nestled in downtown Las Vegas, next to a courthouse, jail, and multiple casinos. My husband walked into the church in front of me. Suddenly, his shoulders lowered and his posture changed completely. A sudden weight lifted from his body and all of those years of missing out on his communion with the Lord evaporated. He was home. Once in the pew, tears streamed down from his eyes, and I gave thanks to Jesus for this son of His and accepted that, even if this wasn’t the man I was supposed to marry, I got to see his return to the Father. The gap in time that was once filled with resentment and hurt from the past was now mended with mercy, forgiveness, and love. One year later, my husband was enrolled in Adult RCIA and was able to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation. Today’s Gospel (Luke 15:1-10) reminds us to be a constant living invitation to bring others to Christ. Sister, will you let Jesus work through you to bring others to Him? Whether you pray the Rosary with a friend who may have forgotten how to pray it or send a family member a worship playlist, start small and see how the Lord will grow those invitations. [bctt tweet="Let Jesus work through you to bring others to Him. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Here's a free PDF for how to go to Mass for someone in your life, or you!

When I was growing up, my parents had one of those big, beautiful Bibles that seemed like they belonged on the church altar instead of in our home. However, our Bible was in Spanish and, as an eight year old, I wasn’t as literate in Spanish as I am now. I didn’t have access to a physical Bible that I could read and understand during the formative years of my faith and I knew something was missing; I just didn’t know what it was. I remember asking my mom once, “Why don’t we open the Bible and get to know the words that filled it?” Her response was that a nun in her catechism class told her you could run the risk of misinterpreting the Bible, so it didn’t leave her with much of a desire to open it. My mom’s answer was enough for me to not open the Bible on my own until I was a young adult. When I became a catechist, it pushed me into a whole new world of our Catholic faith. I remember the first time I sat down to prepare my agenda for my fifth-grade class. I didn’t want to hide behind the podium, aimlessly flipping through Scripture passages like a magazine where you only stop when something strikes you visually. I remember asking our Director of Religious Education to borrow a Bible because I didn’t own one. As embarrassing as that was for me to admit, I knew I didn’t have the exposure to Scripture that I hungered for and aspired to pass onto my students. My time in the classroom gave me the realization that, although the soil of my faith was rich, my confidence in Scripture wasn’t. What used to be a fear of misinterpreting the Bible and worrying about not really grasping the words became "living water" for me. Today’s Gospel (Luke 11:28) reminds us that our upbringing in the faith doesn’t have to dictate what our journey with Christ looks like today. The truth is that when we read Scripture open to the movements of the Holy Spirit and guided by the precepts of our Catholic faith, we will understand it more deeply. Do not be afraid to follow the tugs in your heart that are leading you to discover new ways to grow in your personal relationship with Jesus. [bctt tweet="Follow the tugs in your heart. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Here's a quick look at how to start reading Scripture.

I wanted to be a news anchor for as long as I could remember. I had it all mapped out. I would say my first name in English and my last name, “Carrasco,” with a Spanish accent and really enunciate the double-r so my audience knew I was Mexican and would find me relatable. Shortly after graduating from undergrad, I interned for the local newspaper, writing hyper-local stories about the community. One of my assignments was to photograph a house fire. I remember standing in the backyard of the home, photographing the damage and wondering, What on earth am I doing? Is the woman who lived there okay? Did she have a family to care for her? I tearfully called my boyfriend (now husband) and expressed my disgust with this assignment. I was heartbroken—this isn’t why I choose journalism. After the call, I took a hard look at the ground on which I stood: a complete stranger’s yard, her dead koi fish, and twenty-two-year-old me. In that moment, I heard myself say, Is this where you can do the most good? Is this where you want to be? Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us, “[T]here is an appointed time for everything.” I felt those words vibrate throughout my body that day. I wasn’t looking to change course and I certainly wasn’t prepared to turn my back on my dream. However, I couldn’t deny the signs of the detour I needed to make. There is a time to plant and a time to uproot the plant (Ecclesiastes 3:4). I needed to uproot myself and trust that the Gardener of My Heart, Jesus, would know exactly where to place me next. Jesus directs the movements of our lives to bring forth the best of His creation that includes you and me. He is ever faithful to our obedience and multiplies His grace when we agree to take the detours He has placed in our lives. Sister, is the ground on which you are standing leading you closer to Jesus? In prayer, ask Jesus if there is a detour He is asking you to make to grow closer to Him. [bctt tweet="Is the ground on which you are standing leading you closer to Jesus? // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion Need a little discernment help? Our Gift of You Series can help you know the gift that you are and what you have to share with the world.

I can still smell the stench of the landfill. It was middle school. My Dad rolled up in his rusty, no-air-conditioner-during-the-Las-Vegas-summer-heat, manual windows, but trusty 1965 Chevy pickup truck. We all know middle school is already an awkward stage, but compound it with being picked up from private school by your dad in his smelly truck wearing his landfill-scented waste management uniform. There was no way to make up cool stories about that or cover it up. Why couldn’t my dad be like the other dads with a “cooler” car, a less smelly uniform for work, or maybe with less of a Spanish accent? The concept of “humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God” (Sirach 3:18) from today's memorial readings hadn’t taken root yet in my adolescent mind. It wasn’t until later in my young adult life that I would understand and value those lessons in humility. My dad’s school of humility taught me that when humility is welcomed, embraced, and even prized, Jesus reveals His love more deeply because of the receptiveness of that humbled heart. Even as his body weakened because of stage four pancreatic cancer, my Dad would still kneel and pray in front of our home altar that consisted of statues, icons, and images—some of which he had found in the trash and was able to fully restore. I recognize the love of the Father in my own father, and it humbles me to joyfully proclaim the love that God has for each and every one of us. We don’t have to live in shame of our humbled circumstances because we can be assured that God is glorified in them (see Sirach 3:20). As for that rusty, smelly Chevy pickup truck—I am now the proud owner. It sits in my garage awaiting a full restoration some day. For now, it serves as a reminder of the school of humility from which I come. Sister, take a moment to think about how humility has shaped your life. We always hope it can bring us closer to the Father. listen to today’s devotion [bctt tweet="Jesus reveals His love. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] Consider adding the litany of humility to your daily prayers.