August 12, 2026 // Wednesday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 18:15-20 Reflect on the Word //  “18:19!” The text message—and others like it—lit up my phone.  Our staff had adopted this shorthand as an agreement in prayer inspired by today’s Gospel reading from Matthew chapter 18: “Amen, I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything for which they are to pray, it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father.”  We held a weekly 18:19 virtual prayer meeting to share intentions and agree for whatever was needed, from Catholic school tuition (covered by a scholarship that very day) to a sibling trying to conceive (she had twins) to friends in need of a car (they were gifted one for free).  But after months of intercession and subsequent miracles, I found that my prayers often went unanswered. Despite everyone’s agreement, I was still empty handed. How do we make sense of disappointment? Admittedly, I’m still learning. But as I examined my heart over those weeks, the Lord began to show me that, actually, I didn’t agree—with Him.  You see, prayer isn’t magic. It’s not about saying the right words or finishing the right novena or doing literally anything “right” to earn your desired outcome. Jesus tells us the true end of our agreement just one verse later when He promises that, “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Matthew 18:20). He promises us Himself. He is what we most need. Matthew 18:19 isn’t about getting what we want; it’s about coming into agreement with Who He is. To believe in His Heart for the deepest desires of ours, His provision in our most pressing needs, and His presence to fill every moment of our lives, even as we wait.  And as we wait for His most loving response to our own tuition/baby/car petition, let us confidently agree that the Father always hears our prayers and Jesus is always with us.  You can count on it. Relate to the Lord // Who can you agree with in prayer today? Call or text her to pray together.

July 29, 2026 // Memorial of Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 10:38-42 Reflect on the Word //  It had been bubbling up throughout the Mass. All the sadness, the disappointment, the fear simmered just below the surface. Nothing new, but somehow the pain felt fresh, different. So I poured out my heart to Jesus. Still, by the time Father stood for the final blessing, I didn’t feel much better.  Gently, I heard the Lord in my heart: We can keep talking about it. Tears of relief flooded my eyes. Not because I had answers, but because He cared.  Martha’s exasperated words in today’s Gospel reveal many a heart’s cry. Something hard is happening, Jesus is there and He sees it, so why isn’t He doing anything about it? We too may wonder, “Lord, do you not care?” (Luke 10:40) It’s a common temptation in times of pain or confusion. When your marriage is struggling or a loved one is ill, Lord, do You not care? When depression weighs you down both physically and mentally, Lord, do You not care?  When you’ve been praying for a friend or a job or a breakthrough and it doesn’t come, Lord, do You not care? Martha’s question isn’t wrong; it’s honest. But that honesty is only the beginning of prayer. If we want to know that He cares, we have to know Him. And we can only know Jesus when we spend time with Him. Sit at His feet like Mary and soak in His presence through daily prayer. Look at His face in Adoration or mental prayer. Listen to His words in Scripture. Being with Jesus is the one thing needed, the better part (Luke 10:42).  If you’re wondering today if Jesus cares, the answer is always and unequivocally yes. He cares for you. He cares for the people you care about. And He is taking care of everything. We need only to spend time with Him to remember.  Relate to the Lord // Make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament this week. Sit at His feet. 

July 7, 2026 // Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 9:32-38 Reflect on the Word //  We drove home in tense silence, Jesus and I. The Gospel at daily Mass had proclaimed “the harvest is abundant” but mine was nowhere in sight (Matthew 9:37). It had been two years since God gave harvest as my word for the year, but as far as I could tell, there was no abundance in sight.  Frustrated, I turned to the Lord and vented my anger and disappointment. Did I misunderstand? Why do You promise good things if You’re not going to deliver? How much longer, Lord? Like me, I’m sure you have many needs and desires. Intentions you’ve been praying for for years, hopes you have yet to see realized. But as seasons change and years go by without the precious fruit you’ve been waiting for, it’s natural for resentment to build or trust to wane.  It is here, in the wilderness of faith, that Jesus’ heart is “moved with pity,” not only for the crowds in today’s Gospel, but for us. Like them, we so often feel “troubled and abandoned” (Matthew 9:36).  But when Jesus speaks of a harvest, He means what He says. There is a field to be cultivated and abundant fruit to be borne, in the world, in the Church, and in our souls. The harvest Jesus is bringing about is more plentiful than we can imagine—and that kind of yield takes time.  From our limited perspective, we expect the harvest to happen in a moment—a positive pregnancy test, a job offer, the remission of an illness. But harvest is a process, not an event. And that process is unfolding in every season. We’re so far removed from an agrarian society that we forget: different plants yield fruit in different seasons, but something is always in bloom.  The evidence of harvest is all around, both now and not yet, because His love and provision are always in season—if only we have eyes to see it. Relate to the Lord // Where is the harvest at hand in your life today?

June 11, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Barnabas, Apostle Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 11:21b-26; 13:1-3 Reflect on the Word //  It happens every time we have dinner together.  Before we’ve even ordered our drinks, he’s asked the server’s name and is building a rapport. He’s kind and curious and wears a collar, which usually gets people’s attention. Father is a natural Barnabas, a name meaning “son of encouragement.” Whether at a coffee shop, ministry event, or in the foyer after Mass, he is locked in on people.  This interest is not feigned; Father’s heart has been formed after God’s fatherly heart. He recognizes the eternal and unrepeatable soul before him and genuinely delights in the unique gift of each one. It’s easy to chalk something like that up to personality or temperament, and that certainly helps. But I know the attention he pays, the encouragement that flows so genuinely from his heart, is also a habit, a practiced disposition. He has learned to live in sync with the Holy Spirit and respond to His promptings—just like the Apostle we celebrate today, Saint Barnabas.  He was originally named Joseph, but the disciples called him Barnabas (son of exhortation or consolation) because of his generosity. They sent him to Antioch where “he encouraged them all to remain faithful to the Lord in firmness of heart, for he was a good man, filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.” And because of his powerful witness we know that “a large number of people was added to the Lord” (Acts 11:23–24).  Before his radical joy won souls on the mission field with Saint Paul, Barnabas first built up the Church. He encouraged other believers. Like Barnabas, you and I shouldn’t reserve our kindness and curiosity only for strangers and servers, but must exercise them regularly with those we love. Our homes, parishes, schools, and workplaces are full of people wasting away for want of encouragement.  The Holy Spirit is the great Consoler. He comes both to encourage your heart and to pour out consolation to others through you. Invite Him in today and ask Him for the grace to become a daughter of encouragement, especially to those closest to you. Relate to the Lord // Practice looking for genuine ways to compliment or bless the people in your path today.

May 20, 2026 // Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Bernardine of Siena, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel for the Memorial of Saint Bernardine: Luke 9:57-62  Reflect on the Word // “Imagine how Jesus must feel.” I was surprised when Father seemingly diverted the conversation away from my heart to Jesus’. Spiritual direction had been tender over the last few days of my silent retreat, but through it all His Sacred Heart was there to console me. There it was in an image above my bed in the retreat center, delicately painted in deep red and gold on the chapel tabernacle, exposed on His chest from a statue in the garden. The Sacred Heart of Jesus, it seemed, had been given to me from Heaven as the theme for my retreat.  And as wounds came up, my longings and hopes, I began to see that not only was His Sacred Heart being offered to me in my need, but that He wanted me to offer Him my heart back. I had been invited to share in His own wounds, longing, and hope. Today’s Gospel for the Optional Memorial of Saint Bernardine is full of would-be followers of Jesus. They’ve been invited but, like us, they already have full lives. Responsibilities, desires, and fears keep them from responding to Jesus fully. Perhaps we, too, think we could follow Him radically if we had more time . . . Once we graduate, or when the kids are grown, or after we finish the new season of our favorite show, then we will have more time for prayer. But time ticks on and Jesus’ Heart is left out in the cold. We stare at our phones instead of looking into His eyes in daily prayer. We drive past the church or Adoration chapel because we only have a few minutes anyway. We favor a podcast (yes, even a Catholic one) over communing with Him in silence. I do it too. And all the while “the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head” (Luke 9:58). But friend, there is no better time to follow Jesus than today. We have no greater need of His help than we do right now. And there is no more satisfying reward than His friendship. Choose Him. Say yes to following Jesus today and every day after. In doing so, He will heal your heart and you will console His. Relate to the Lord // Look up images of the Sacred Heart today. Which one resonates with you and why? 

April 8, 2026 // Wednesday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 24:13-35 Reflect on the Word // I stood on a low stone wall and delighted over the view. A few dozen pairs of women were walking the grounds of the convent where we were hosting a women’s half-day retreat. They were taking an Emmaus walk.  We’d spent the afternoon opening our hearts to the Father’s love as revealed in Jesus and now He “drew near and walked with them” (Luke 23:17).  The disciples who walked with Jesus on the road to Emmaus are not really very different from us. Like them, we have questions, fears, dashed hopes. Things rarely work out the way we imagine, even for those trying to discern and do God’s will. So when we’re left holding the broken pieces of our plans and hearts, we too can become downcast.  In moments like these, we can take a simple spiritual lesson from the Gospel: Go for a walk. Moving our bodies helps us to get out of our heads and integrate what we believe with what we feel. The fresh air, the rhythmic movement, the deep breaths will all help us to process and move through confusing or painful parts of our lives.  Perhaps this week you could take your own Emmaus walk with a friend, in person or over the phone if you need to. Like the disciples, open your hearts to one another about what has happened, what you hoped, and where to go from here. And as you walk, open your heart to Jesus. With Jesus and a friend, as you share “what sort of things” are burdening you (see Luke 23:19), our hearts, so slow to believe in His goodness and love, will slowly begin to burn again. Relate to the Lord // Call or text a friend to take an Emmaus walk this week. Share your heart with her and the Lord. 

March 31, 2026 // Tuesday of Holy Week Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 13:21-33, 36-38 Reflect on the Word //  My heart was arrested as I stood before Saint Peter. Not the living, breathing man himself, but a first-class relic of our first pope. I paused before the wall of Apostles in a local parish’s reliquary and wondered why he had stopped me. A memory flashed before my eyes. A painful, shameful experience I’d confessed and prayed about dozens of times. But still, it lingered.  I remember seeing an icon at the very place of Peter’s betrayal of Jesus in Jerusalem, the Church of Saint Peter in Gallicantu. A bold rooster filled most of the frame and Saint Peter, horrified, shrank in a corner, realizing what He had done, remembering Christ’s words from today’s Gospel.  I’d experienced so much healing and forgiveness but I still felt like Peter in that icon, crouched in a corner of my soul, covering my face in shame.  Peter presents a problem for the Christian. Because the man Jesus undoubtedly trusted the most, the one who vowed that very night to never leave him, did. Just as Jesus forewarned in today’s Gospel (see John 13:38), Peter denied Jesus not just once but three times.  But that’s not the problem. The part that can be hard to imagine is not the betrayal, but the forgiveness. The self-forgiveness. The courage it took for Peter to receive Christ’s forgiveness and not spend the rest of his life punishing himself for his sins.  Christ didn’t revoke the keys from Saint Peter when he fell, and He doesn’t remove His love from us when we do either. When you bring your sins to Jesus in the Sacrament of Confession, His merciful love washes over your wounds and He makes them look like His glorified ones.   So if there’s a sin or mistake that haunts you, whether it was a lifetime ago or last night, ask Saint Peter to pray for you. He understands how hard it is to forgive yourself. And he will show you how to stand up out of the shadows and step into the light of Christ’s love. Relate to the Lord // Is there a sin or memory that haunts you? Ask Jesus to submerge it in His Precious Blood this Holy Week and ask Saint Peter to teach you how to receive Jesus’ forgiveness. 

February 21, 2026 // Saturday after Ash Wednesday // Optional Memorial of Saint Peter Damian, Bishop and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 5:27-32 Reflect on the Word //  I shut the front door and was surprised by the voice I heard in my heart: You just had a bad blueprint.  I’d been absentmindedly mulling over a difficult situation and my response to it. As usual I was blaming myself for not only what happened, but also how I perceived what had happened. Shame was often my go-to lens, but it wasn’t until I heard the Lord speak that I remembered: This is only a pattern and patterns can be broken. Often when I read the account of the call of Saint Matthew (Levi in today’s Gospel), I romanticize his call to conversion. At the words of Jesus he responded wholeheartedly and unhesitatingly, “leaving everything behind” (Luke 5:28). But I’m sure this was only the beginning of his ongoing conversion, the same way we are continually being changed in relationship with the Lord.  I think back on my own conversion of heart. It wasn’t a single moment but rather a continuous series of incremental yeses that have added up to decades of discipleship. That path probably looked similar for Matthew. While he had a profound, life-defining moment of encounter with Jesus, he no doubt had thousands of conversions in his lifetime. Every Christian does. We all have patterns that need to be purified. We learned one way of relating, but Jesus shows us another. We have ways of communicating the need to mature. Our worldview, subtly and consistently formed by the world around us, has to be reshaped by the Gospel. How we spend our time and money, what we watch and listen to, are all territories that need to be conquered and converted to live in line with the Kingdom of God. Conversion is not one and done. It is the process of every single part of our lives and souls becoming more and more ordered toward God’s Heart and will, toward Heaven. Each and every time we encounter another area that has been untouched or unhealed by Jesus, we are invited into conversion.  Today and every day, Jesus comes and calls: “Follow me” (Luke 5:32).  Relate to the Lord // Is there an area or relationship currently in need of conversion? Invite Jesus in.

February 4, 2026 // Wednesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 6:1-6 Reflect on the Word // Every day felt like a roller coaster. Not physically, but mentally, emotionally. Nothing changed and that was sort of the problem. Because here in one hand I held the promises of God. Really one hand wouldn’t be enough. The Lord had directed my heart time and time again, reassuring me over and over that He had something beautiful planned for me—something my heart deeply desired. And, in the other hand, I weighed all of the evidence (or, more accurately, the lack thereof) to the contrary. Every day I considered the one hand as holding great authority and the other I scrutinized as highly  suspicious.  Can you guess which was which? I am not unlike the locals in Jesus’ synagogue from today’s Gospel (see Mark 6:1-6). They’ve heard His teaching, which is unlike any other in Israel. They marvel at His miracles. They’ve seen Him with their own eyes and heard Him with their own ears, but they’re unable to reconcile the Man they know with the Messiah they hope for. Despite the evidence, they choose not to believe.  We often do the same. Despite pages of promises in Scripture, His presence in the Sacraments, and His personal love in prayer, when we experience pain or trouble in our lives—whether that’s illness, financial strain, or relational pain—we tend to question the God we thought we knew.  When our experiences don’t line up with our idea of God, perhaps we’re being invited to draw nearer and look closer rather than pull away. What if, instead of questioning everything—questioning Him—we doubled down on trust? Oftentimes in the spiritual life we get stuck trying to figure it out ourselves. We demand that God’s timing and means should match up with the way we think it should go, insisting on our will instead of submitting to His.  So instead of scrutinizing the evidence in one hand or clinging to promises in the other, perhaps we should simply look at Jesus again (and again). Be astonished by His wisdom and His mighty deeds. Choose to believe, even when we can’t see, and we will amaze Him with our faith. Relate to the Lord // When doubt or discouragement comes, make an act of faith and choose to trust instead.

January 28, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas, Priest and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 4:1-20 Reflect on the Word //  I ended the call dejectedly. I had hoped she would understand all that the Lord was doing and saying, how clear and generous all of the words in prayer had been, but instead I felt misunderstood and self-conscious.  Maybe I’m making too much of it? Maybe my confidence is misplaced? After all, my prayer isn’t infallible, I thought. This is between you and Me, the Lord responded. Even though He had been overwhelmingly affirming and consistent in His direction and desires, I was still seeking someone else to confirm them. But not everyone was going to understand what He was asking of me. And no one else was going to discern this with the same time or care that I had. I had to keep my eyes on Jesus and choose to believe what He was saying. While it’s important to share our prayer with a spiritual mentor or holy friend, at times we can be tempted to rely on human wisdom more than God’s voice. (Of course, we do have to measure what we believe we hear in prayer against the truth preserved for us in the Church through Scripture and teaching passed down from the Apostles.) In the process of growing up as disciples of Jesus, we have to learn to trust Him in prayer. To be obedient to His promptings and trust that He is at work even when we can’t see.  We must cherish the words the Lord has spoken to us, planting and protecting them in rich soil, letting them take root and grow within us. Watering them with the Word and faith. When we wait and trust, that single seed can “bear fruit thirty and sixty and a hundredfold” (Mark 4:8).  Maybe the Lord has given you a promise in prayer or the Scriptures, a word that you knew was uniquely for you. Take Him at His word, dear sister. Keep hoping and waiting. Remember that roots grow down before the shoot springs up. Your breakthrough is on the way. The faithful Sower will bring forth the bloom, no matter how long it takes. Relate to the Lord // What word from Jesus will you cherish in your heart today?

December 1, 2025 // Monday of the First Week of Advent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 122:1-2, 3-4b, 4cd-5, 6-7, 8-9 Reflect on the Word //  The phone call had been a few days ago but the heaviness lingered. A vague restlessness unsettled me and I found myself unable to focus on daily tasks. I wasn’t depressed but someone I loved was, so  I carried her pain like it was my own.  Far from being a virtue, the Lord began to illuminate just how dysfunctional this was—and how much it cost me.  I often felt what other people were feeling, not because I was empathetic but because I lacked boundaries. I took responsibility for people and problems that were not mine to bear. I was enmeshed and this way of relating, I discovered, was a pattern.  In the Scriptures, Jerusalem refers not only to the city in Israel but also to God’s people. Our souls are like the city in today’s Psalm. We have walls and gates—boundaries—for the protection and flourishing of the land. Mine were in disrepair. Anyone could come and go, trample and take. I gave without reverence for my own sacred soul and the Lord began to show me that I deserved to be protected.  As disciples of Jesus, we are called to emulate the love of Jesus as self-gift. But we cannot give what we do not have. In order to have “peace within your walls” (Psalm 122:7), we have to have walls—to know where we end and others begin.  The Psalm declares that Jerusalem was “built as a city with compact unity” (Psalm 122:3), and  Jesus desires that we experience this unity within ourselves. Whether we’re fractured because of poor boundaries in relationships, our own sin, or traumas that have fragmented our minds and hearts, healing and wholeness are possible in Jesus Christ.  Ask Jesus to reveal the city of your soul: its walls and gates, fields and gardens, buildings and altars to the Lord. Give Him the keys to your inner kingdom and invite Him to rule and reign there, to erect walls as boundaries and to stand guard at the gates, to give you back to yourself so that you might give yourself as a gift to the world. Relate to the Lord // Imagine your soul as a city. Ask Jesus to show you around.

November 6, 2025 // Thursday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 15:1-10  Reflect on the Word // I hurried around the small room searching frantically. Under the bed, then the quilt, behind the small dresser and under the side table, on my hands and knees and then on tiptoes. I couldn’t find it anywhere. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was Jesus. My body relaxed and I sighed with relief. Jesus would help me find it. I continued searching in much the same way, lifting and shifting, now with a little less anxiety. Surely Jesus already knew where it was and it wouldn’t be long until He revealed it. But instead of pointing to a dark corner or getting down on the floor, He extended His Hand and asked me to dance. It’s a terrible habit of mine, getting ahead of the Lord in prayer. In this time of imaginative prayer, as Jesus held me tenderly and turned me slowly, my eyes were still scanning. I assumed He was simply positioning me in a better angle so I could finally spot the lost coin (see Luke 15:8-10). But as He held me, lips against my hair, I could hear the smile in His voice. You’re the coin, He said. And I was found again.  In our modern world, it can be easy to assume that a single coin would be of little or no value. After all, who lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and searches carefully for a penny? But the coin Jesus was referencing in this Gospel was worth significantly more; it was the woman’s livelihood.  And you and I are even more valuable to the Father. So much so that He sent His Son Jesus, the Light of the World, to search, to find, and to restore us to the house and family of God. But it’s not enough to hear this truth; we must experience His pursuit of our souls, again and again, and receive His joyful celebration of who we are.  You are not one among many. You are eternally and immeasurably loved by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Let your God show you this relentless love in prayer—today and tomorrow and every day after that for the rest of your life.  Relate to the Lord // Dance with the Lord today. Put on your favorite song (or playlist) and let Him love and celebrate you.

September 5, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Virgin Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Colossians 1:15-20 Reflect on the Word //  I wiped away tears inconspicuously as the treadmill rolled on. Using a documentary about Mother Teresa to motivate me, I looked forward to watching more each day. I’d seen it before but that didn’t matter. The footage of her greeting crowds and cradling babies, caressing the faces of the sick and suffering, folding her hands in prayer—in every frame, love poured forth from her wrinkled face through the screen. It made me want to “do something beautiful for God” too (source, p. 125). It’s always fascinated me how even the secular world recognized her extraordinary witness. There are many saintly social workers, but they aren’t awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Rather, there is something supernatural drawing our collective attention and admiration here. Saint Paul tells us that “Christ Jesus is the image of the invisible God,” and in union with Jesus, Mother Teresa tangibly expressed and imaged that love to the world.  After entering religious life, she received a call within a call, eventually founding the Missionaries of Charity to answer Jesus’ cry from the Cross in His thirst for souls. Her vocation was undoubtedly unique, but an individual call from God is not rare. You and I are each called to a particular vocation and mission that only we can respond to. The circumstances will surely be different, but the heart is the same—because we bear His image and are baptized into Christ, we, too, make visible the love of the invisible God.  Mother Teresa discovered the all-surpassing greatness of Jesus, Who “is before all things, and in him all things hold together,” and gave Him her all in return (Colossians 1:17). Through years of painful purifications and persevering prayer, she began to look more and more like the Beloved—so much so that the whole world could see it. This transformation is offered to us as well—for all that we have and are to be transformed into all that He is—and it is the formula for sainthood. Relate to the Lord // What can you offer to Jesus today? Ask Him what graces He is waiting to give you.  

August 5, 2025 // Optional Memorial of the Dedication of the Basilica of Saint Mary Major in Rome Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 14:22-36 Reflect on the Word // It was five years ago during that unsuspecting daily Mass that my life changed. When the pandemic restrictions were lifted in my state, I realized that while others still couldn’t attend Mass, I could go for them. And so I have, every day, for the last five years.  As a result, I’ve experienced my own Copernican revolution. Just as the astronomer discovered that the sun, and not the Earth, is  at the center of our solar system, so too I am learning that I am not at the center, but God is. Receiving Him every day in Holy Communion radically reorients me to this reality when I am tempted to put myself at the center.  The disciples experienced this truth in today’s Gospel. Upon first glance, it’s easy to put the disciples at the center of the drama, empathizing with their anxiety over the raging storm. But look again: Jesus is the protagonist of this story.  It is He Who “made the disciples get into the boat,” Who “dismissed the crowds,” Who “went up the mountain to pray” (Matthew 14:22, 23). He was drawn to the disciples in their distress and “came toward them, walking on the sea” (Matthew 14:25). He reassured them in their panic saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid,” and He called Peter out of the boat to walk with Him on the surface of the sea (Matthew 14:27-28). When Peter focused on Jesus, he could do the impossible, but when he focused on the waves he began to sink.  So too for us. When we focus on the Son, our whole lives come into alignment. Our priorities, desires, relationships, thoughts, and feelings come into right order. But as long as we remain at the center, we will sink into the waves of the world.  Every day we must undergo this revolution, this conversion. We must return to His gaze and remember that He is the center of it all. We must fix our eyes on the Son of God Who is above our problems and pain and the passing things of this world so that, with Him, we too can do the impossible. Relate to the Lord // Go to daily Mass this week. Let the Son center you.

June 10, 2025 // Tuesday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: 2 Corinthians 1:18-22 Reflect on the Word //  When I was little, it was always the same. Standing before a mildly annoyed clerk, I would endlessly debate between pink or blue, elephant or bear, circle or triangle. It didn’t matter if they were clothing items or stuffed animals, jewelry or food, I could never decide.  “Just pick one,” they’d huff and roll their eyes. But I couldn’t choose, and their impatience only escalated my anxiety. Perhaps I’m a bit like Saint Thérèse, who joyfully declared, “I choose all!” (source) But my indecision didn’t feel like freedom; it felt like torture. For all that practice, I’m still not much more confident in my decision making these days. Even when I know what I want or intuitively understand something about a situation or a person, I still tie myself up in knots analyzing every angle and second guessing myself.  But I’d like to be more like my Father, Who knows His Own mind. In today’s First Reading, Saint Paul reminds us that the faithfulness of God is constant and unchanging. He doesn't waffle between yes and no but only “‘yes’ has been in him. For however many are the promises of God, their Yes is in him” (2 Corinthians 1:19-20). That firmness of purpose and conviction of heart are true toward you and me. He made up His mind about you, chose you on purpose. And His Word is never yes and no—yes to this part but no to that. Yes to our good deeds and no to our sins. Yes to all of our charming qualities but you’d better smooth out those rough edges before He will love you. No, it’s only yes with Him. Always yes. He chooses all of you. Maybe that’s where Saint Thérèse got it. Relate to the Lord // Smile. Right now and throughout the day, smile as you recall that God loves you.  

May 27, 2025 // Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Augustine of Canterbury, Bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 16:22-34  Reflect on the Word //  As soon as I sent the email I regretted it. Was I right? Maybe. Did it need to be said? Probably. Did it need to be said right then? No. Could it have been said more charitably? Definitely. I sighed and shut my computer. The anxiety and irritation were at a fever pitch and this poor soul just ended up on the wrong end of my overwhelm.  I have yet to master my emotions in daily interactions when I’m tired/stressed/hungry/sad/busy/frustrated. You get it. I want all of me to be converted, yes, even and especially my emotions. I know intellectually that God is bigger than my problems, but my ever changing thoughts and feelings don’t always align with that unchanging truth. Unlike Saint Paul, I don’t see myself singing in a prison cell, praying with confidence that the Lord’s loving hand was at work in my life and circumstances. But that’s what he did in today’s First Reading. And it wasn’t just any prison cell, they were being held in the innermost cell, feet shackled with a stake (see Acts 16:24). And this after being beaten with rods—many, many times. After this nightmare of a day, at midnight, they were found . . . singing and praying? Not licking their wounds and accusing the Lord of abandoning them? Not frantically plotting their escape? But singing and praying?! It’s easy to dismiss Paul and Silas’ witness with a can’t relate, but perhaps rather than measuring ourselves against their heroic example we can be inspired by it, learn from it, and actually try it.  We have only to read the rest of the story to see what God did with those prayers and the sacrifice of praise offered in their darkest hour. The Lord not only spectacularly rescued them, but also set every captive free and saved an entire family through Baptism. And all they did was sing and pray. In the middle of our (mostly much less serious) bad days, there is another way. Next time I’ll try singing and praying before hitting send.  Relate to the Lord // What song of praise or thanksgiving will you lift up to the Lord today?   

April 21, 2025 // Monday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 28:8-15  Reflect on the Word // Why do I do this to myself?  Still I continue to pack, and write, and return emails, and run errands all in preparation for the big trip. I was supremely confident that the Lord had invited me to follow Him on this particular adventure but as the big day approached I had to admit, it was a lot. It’s a predictable pattern, not only when it comes to travel but in daily life. I love what I do but it can be stressful. I enjoy many close friendships, but relationships can be challenging. My little studio is peaceful and perfectly decorated, but it can be lonely too. Two things can be true at once.  I think the both/and we witness in the Gospel today normalizes this tension. “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed” (Matthew 28:8). You too, Mary? You know that strange and overwhelming mixture of anxiety and excitement? Love and fear? Faith and doubt?  I’m often frustrated with my lack of confidence in the Lord. He’s so generous and patient to encourage me, reassure me, when doubt and fear assail me. Even still, sometimes I wonder at how quickly I forget His love. I’m intimidated by my circumstances, locking eyes with the enemy instead of my Savior.  But there is Good News in this Gospel. The Marys didn’t have perfect faith when they went to announce to the disciples that the tomb was empty. They did it afraid. They ran despite their raging emotions and Jesus met them on the way.  Just keep going, sister. Take the next right step, do what love requires in this moment, and you can be confident of this: Jesus will meet you along your way too.  Relate to the Lord // How can you take the next small step of faith today, no matter how you’re feeling?