May 5, 2025 // Monday of the Third Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 6:8-15 Reflect on the Word // For several months, I’ve been praying through the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola. One day, I was asked to pray with this little nugget of wisdom: that life lived freely in Christ means welcoming insults and humiliations.  Memories immediately flashed unbidden through my mind: childhood friends laughing at my expense, a college professor mercilessly taunting me during a presentation, Army bosses mocking me for having children on God’s time, and too many moments of failure and shame in motherhood to count.  Shudder.  Unlike Saint Stephen in the First Reading, my face has never shone like that of an angel in the face of humiliation. I instinctively retreat from insults, persecutions, or false accusations—grasping for self-preservation and agonizing over others’ opinions of me. Wrestling with this reality in prayer, I pondered: why have so many Saints been able to face humiliations worse than mine, while I try to escape them and cower in fear? Fear. There was the answer. It wasn’t humiliation itself that did the most damage, but the fear of it that ensnared me.  Saint Stephen boldly faced humiliations, insults, and martyrdom—not because he was fearless, but because he looked to the Lord in his every fear. He forgave his oppressors not by his own power, but because he allowed God to forgive his own sins, and leaned on God’s strength in his every weakness.  He stood physically bound yet was completely free, face shining with uncontainable divine love—the only thing powerful enough to break every chain forged by fear. You and I can access the same exact grace and power to break free whenever fear of worldly esteem seeks to bind us. Worrying over your reputation amidst the shifting opinions of the world will always lead straight into the enemy’s trap. You’ll be tempted to despair in your weakness, believe lies about your dignity, or become defensive at perceived injustice. Like Saint Stephen, we must remember that what matters most is how God sees us. Looking to your identity in Christ can preserve you in peace. He provides ample mercy for your every weakness, He refutes every lie, and He defends your honor from the assaults of the enemy—always. Relate to the Lord // Ask God how He sees you. Believe Him.

Saturday, May 3, 2025 Happy Saturday, friend! We are so excited to share with you what's coming up this week as we all prepare our hearts by praying with readings for Sunday, the day of rest with our Lord. Live Liturgically // This Week’s Feast Days Saturday, May 3 (today!) // Feast of Saints Philip and James, Apostles Sunday, May 4 // Third Sunday of Easter Letter from the Editor //  Dear Sister,  The Third Sunday of Easter gives us a vision of heavenly worship of the “Lamb that was slain” (Revelation 5:12), worship we join in with each and every Mass and worship we hope to be a part of for eternity. But for now, we often find ourselves like the Apostles in the boat, fishing all night without catching a thing. The Lord’s will for us is not always explicit, so we often do what we think is best based on our gifts and talents. Yet, when we do not rely on Him, we often catch nothing. Then the Lord comes with the light, and tells us where to “cast the net” (John 21:6). We have to learn the lesson again and again that only when we cast our net with Him will we make a catch.  The Apostles are given strict orders by the Sanhedrin in the First Reading to “stop teaching in that name” (Acts 5:28). When we follow Christ, and “obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29), we will find that the world is against us. When these things happen and like Saint Peter, we are led where we do not want to go (see John 21:18), we must remember that this world is not for us. Our time in the boat of life is brief, and soon we will be with Jesus on those heavenly shores and praising the Lord with the choirs in Heaven, Who has “brought [us] up from the netherworld” (Psalm 30:4). In Christ’s Love, Susanna Read the readings for the Third Sunday of Easter:  First Reading // Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41 Psalm // Psalm 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13 Second Reading // Revelation 5:11-14 Gospel // John 21:1-19 Prayer Practice // Where is the Lord inviting you to cast your nets again?

May 2, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Athanasius, Bishop and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 6:1-15 Reflect on the Word //  Today, this is all I’ve got: the pain in my limbs, a heavy fatigue that drenches my body and mind, and a soreness of heart that just wants to crawl under the covers and quit. The need in me—and around me—is overwhelming. I have no means to address it. My “loaves” are filled with mold and my “fish” are stinking and rotten. When the crowds swelled and their hunger grew, Andrew turned to the Lord that day to say, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?” (John 6:8-9) And how did He reply? “Have the people recline” (John 6:10). Then He went on to feed them all, effortlessly, thousands of people, young and old, and so hungry, not only for food but for the Lord. They were hungry for Him. Today, I pray for the grace to accept His invitation. To recline at His feet, to lay down before Him and trust that He knows what He will do, and that no amount of need frightens Him, intimidates Him, disheartens Him. We could fill an ocean with our murky need, but He’d just sit on the beach of it and smile. He’d raise His hands above it, make it clear and shining, and give it a lovely rhythmic tide to lap at His feet. He could touch that ocean of endless want and make it a world full of life—fishes and corals, energy and food, enough for a universe. I’m so hungry for the Lord, too, and this I know in my bones: My need doesn’t worry Him. He can touch my weakness and need, and not only make it fruitful and nourishing, but fruitful beyond my wildest expectations. Sister, your need, your hunger, whatever it may be, does not worry Jesus. Accept His invitation. Recline at His feet and let Him touch you, just as you are, and make you fruitful beyond your imagining in building up His Kingdom. Relate to the Lord // Pour out all of your wants and needs before Jesus, in your journal, prayer chair, or Adoration.  

May 1, 2025 // Thursday of the Second Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Joseph the Worker Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 34:2 and 9, 17-18, 19-20 Reflect on the Word //  Strong waves of anguish and confusion consumed me as I searched for the comfort that my soul was craving. I cried out, yet I couldn’t grasp a response or solution to ease my pain. A deep sense of abandonment began to settle within my heart. I was drowning in the flood of my emotions, as the Lord was more silent than I had ever experienced.  It’s been three years since I had experienced that moment of pain. Looking back, I can see that in that moment an answer to my heartbreak wasn’t going to satisfy me or bring me peace, but it was His very presence that would ultimately give me all I desired. Today’s Psalm is a reminder that He doesn’t abandon us in our pain. He chooses to draw closer to us than we can ever imagine (see Psalm 34:19).  “When the just cry out, the LORD hears them, and from all their distress he rescues them” (Psalm 34:18). Friend, He is close to us in our suffering (see Psalm 34:19). He will rescue us from our distress and save us as we ache in our crushed spirit (see Psalm 34:18-19). He will take care of everything.   But first, He just wants to be with us. To comfort us. To listen. To allow our cries to enter into the open doors of His Heart, where He holds us so dearly. He wants to be with us. We can trust that the One Who hears and holds our cry is also the One Who holds our redemption. He might not give a solution right away, but He will always give the gift of Himself.  Relate to the Lord // When you are tempted to turn to your phone, food, or a friend today for comfort, instead ask the Holy Spirit to be your Comforter.   

April 30, 2025 // Wednesday of the Second Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Pius V, Pope, religious Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 3:16-21 Reflect on the Word //  I suddenly hit a roadblock in my journey of healing and forgiveness when I had to choose to forgive someone who was not asking for forgiveness. What felt like years of intentional and difficult work—spiritually, mentally, and emotionally—suddenly felt meaningless. I closed that door and sealed it shut. That was not a step I was ready to take, nor did I want to.  I knew the right thing to do was to forgive anyway, but as we all know too well, the distance from our heads to our hearts is often too big. I knew in my head what I needed to do, but there was so much resistance in my heart.  It was so much easier to stay in the darkness of unforgiveness. I needed to turn toward the Light to expose the lies in my heart. I needed to recognize that the darkness of my resentment comes from believing in myself instead of the true God Who came not to condemn but that we be saved through Him (see John 3:16-21). It was in Him that I found grace, courage, and patience to forgive, even when it hurt. To forgive over and over again.  I had to prefer light, the Light, to be able to forgive. I hear His invitation again and again: Step into the light, beloved. Say yes to the freedom I offer you in forgiveness. His desire is that we come towards the Light, Him. He so loved us that He became a Man and died for us. The Lord desires that we live in the truth so that all we do is in and through Him. He wants nothing to hold us back from Him, so that our “works may be clearly seen as done in God” (John 3:21). He wants to shed His Light on where we need healing and freedom today. Relate to the Lord // Ask Jesus what darkened door He wants to illuminate in your soul?  

April 29, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Catherine of Siena, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 3:7b-15 Reflect on the Word // I had never seen anything like it: a multitude of colorful kites dotting a cloudless blue sky, dipping and swaying in the early spring breeze. Cherry blossom petals spread their sweet perfume as they settled like pink confetti about the National Mall. And I, relishing the first day in several months that did not require me to wear a coat, could not wipe the sunshine-induced smile from my face. Gingerly, I took the kite from my friend’s hands and began unspooling it. I watched with giddy, childlike joy as it ascended and joined the dance: fluttering and sighing with an admirable freedom while I held fast to its string.  Reading today’s Gospel brings me back to that day at the Cherry Blossom Kite Festival, one of many annual events heralding the arrival of spring in Washington, D.C. The levity in my soul, the laughter bubbling from my lips, the incredulity I’m sure was painted on my face as I turned back to my friend—was there any other word for the experience besides fun?  Admittedly, I often find the Lord’s words in today’s Gospel a little foreboding. “You must be born from above,” Jesus tells Nicodemus. “The wind blows where it wills . . . but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” (John 3:7b-8). I’m not sure I like the idea of such an unpredictable Spirit, One Who could suddenly redirect me to places I don’t want—or don’t feel prepared—to go. Surely, Nicodemus, a Pharisee felt a similar concern as he talked in the night to the Man Who might be the Messiah. But what if, dear sister, being made new in the Spirit, being “born from above,” is more like being a kite in the breeze? What if surrendering to the Lord’s will for our lives is . . . fun? Unpredictable, yes, but playful, too, and gentle: our hearts brought to new life in the first blush of spring, held aloft on the wind of the Spirit. Born from above—born of the Spirit—and set free.  Relate to the Lord // How has your life with the Lord been fun, playful, or surprising? Relish your joy with Him.  

April 28, 2025 // Monday of the Second Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Peter Chanel; Priest and Martyr, Optional Memorial of Saint Louis Mary de Montfort, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 4:23-31 Reflect on the Word // My husband and I were on a retreat together with other couples when it was our turn to share a prayer that we could all say together. We chose the Memorare. It was sentimental to us—it was really one of the first prayers we ever prayed together as a couple. Praying together is intimate and vulnerable, and we loved the words of this prayer that encouraged and comforted us to entrust our prayer intentions to our mother in Heaven, as it begins: Remember, O Most Gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, we fly unto thee . . . Before this instance in the First Reading of Peter and John “raising their voices to God with one accord” with their community (Acts 4:24), they each learned to raise their voices to God alone. Maybe in the quiet break of dawn, amidst their life’s uncertainties and worries. In that instance of turning to the Lord—with or without words—their prayer life began. An interior world opened up for them with a relationship with the Lord. And in time, they began to pray with one another, then with their families, in a group, with their community, and with Jesus. Imagine the vulnerabilities they shared with one another. What Scripture verses, which hymns did they turn to out of familiarity and comfort? Was it uncomfortable for them at first—to share their interior world of prayer with others?  In today’s First Reading, Peter and John began their prayer with knowledge of the Lord—a fruit of time spent in prayer of knowing Who He is and who they were in return. We can follow their example in prayer today, speaking God’s Word with boldness, and praying for and with those closest to us. Relate to the Lord // What well-loved prayer or Scripture can you lift up today?

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Happy Saturday, friend! We are so excited to share with you what's coming up this week as we all prepare our hearts by praying with readings for Sunday, the day of rest with our Lord. Live Liturgically // This Week’s Feast Days Saturday, April 26 // Saturday in the Octave of Easter Sunday, April 27 // Second Sunday of Easter // Sunday of Divine Mercy Monday, April 28 //Optional Memorial of Saint Peter Chanel, Priest and Martyr, Optional Memorial of Saint Louis Mary de Montfort, Priest Tuesday, April 29 // Memorial of Saint Catherine of Siena, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Wednesday, April 30 // Optional Memorial of Saint Pius V, Pope, religious Thursday, May 1 // Optional Memorial of Saint Joseph the Worker Friday, May 2 // Memorial of Saint Athanasius, Bishop and Doctor of the Church Letter from the Editor //  Dear Sister,  On this Divine Mercy Sunday of the Second Sunday of Easter we find ourselves in the Upper Room. Will we believe what Saint John the Evangelist wrote down for us? Are his words that he wrote enough for us to believe, “and through this belief [. . .] have life in [Jesus’] name” (John 20:31)? Jesus tells us that we are blessed because we “have not seen and have believed” (John 20:29). Sometimes though, we want to be like Saint Thomas the Apostle and reach into the Lord’s side, the side from which His Blood along with water poured out with mercy for the whole world. We hear about the signs and wonders done by the Apostles in Jerusalem after Pentecost (see Acts 5:12), and we want to witness a miracle ourselves.  But sister, we often overlook the miracle of mercy that is before us every Sunday, the Sacrifice made present before us on the altar, the Death which gives us life. Jesus was dead, “but now He is alive forever” (Revelation 19:17). He wants us to join Him, to be with Him forever. He wants us to experience His pierced side in the Eucharist, and as the priest raises the consecrated host, cry out in our hearts with Saint Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28) This miracle occurs every single day on countless altars around the world. May we always pray, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it” (Psalm 118:24). In Christ’s Love, Susanna Read the readings for the Second Sunday of Easter:  First Reading // Acts 5:12-16 Psalm // Psalm 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24 Second Reading // Revelation 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19 Gospel // John 20:19-31 Prayer Practice // How is Jesus inviting you to believe without seeing in this season?  

April 25, 2025 // Friday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 21:1-14 Reflect on the Word // After experiencing the death of someone very close to me, I cannot read the Resurrection accounts the way I did before. I used to scoff at the disciples’ actions and  responses; now, I understand that they were immersed in grief. What is more, the way Jesus interacts with them post-Resurrection is overwhelming. Jesus is consistent, patient, compassionate, and present. He sees their human hearts dredged in darkness and, with salvific love, draws them again and again from the deep waters of what they had lived through.  In today’s Gospel account, the fishermen Peter and John return to the Sea, casting their nets as they had done before meeting Jesus. I used to judge Peter and John for going fishing. How could they just return to their former life?! There is so much to be done! But they weren’t going back or giving up; they were going forward in the way they knew how.  Jesus then calls to them from the shore in a familiar interaction. Jesus offers assurance and security. He performs another miracle of the fish, proving His continued provision and personal care for them. Then, John’s cry reverberates through my heart: “It is the Lord.” And Peter—good Peter, who still held the guilt of his Good Friday betrayal—immediately jumps into the water to swim to Jesus on the shore.  This is what my heart does when it’s plunged in grief and I see the Lord in my prayer. He is my very life. So I jump into the water, frantically and ungracefully, using all my dried-up strength to reach the One I love.  Finally, Jesus quietly feeds them. Again, I used to think, Jesus, start preaching! This is precious time before You send them to the ends of the earth! Jesus knew what they really needed: food and rest in His presence. Jesus deals tenderly with the broken, hope-filled hearts of the disciples He loves. He desires to minister to us in our grief, darkness, or confusion too. He always comes for us, provides for us, and feeds us. And He is always with us.  Relate to the Lord // Set aside time for personal prayer  to allow Jesus to minister to your heart today.

April 24, 2025 // Thursday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 24:35-48  Reflect on the Word // This is nothing short of a miracle, I think to myself. Between another invitation to a baby shower, another birth announcement on social media, and a close friend sharing the same all in one day—I approach Him and am at complete and total peace. I head outside to catch a breath of fresh air and I'm gently reminded that this peace hasn't always been my reality. As I stand in the warmth of the sun, I remember being the overwhelmed recipient of all of the invites. I'd crumble into myself instead of approaching Him. I begged for a miraculous turn of events. I begged for less anger and the grace to surrender. I begged for less sadness and the grace to be at peace. I begged God for years, and the miracle came in time—it wasn't a positive pregnancy test but a profound awareness that He was born in me like He'd never been before. "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?" (Luke 24:38) Jesus asks me just as He did the disciples so long ago. I wrestled with disbelief and wonder. With anger and sadness. Until finally, a desire to believe that He is Who He says He is rose within me and then—He opened my mind to understand. Sometimes the miracles we beg God for cloud out and close us off from the beauty and good He intends for us instead. We forget that the miracles we long for and experience are gifts we are given to make the presence of Jesus more fully known in our lives. Miracles are meant to increase our awareness of Emmanuel—God with us. Do the miracles we pray for become an end in and of themselves instead of sign posts that direct us to Him? Sometimes, our miracles come just as we've prayed. And sometimes, it is Jesus Himself that greets us in our requests for the miraculous. He stands among us and says, "Peace be with you" (Luke 34:26). He invites us to come close, to "touch [Him] and see" (Luke 24:39), that the culmination of all that is miraculous is right here beside us, and has always been. Relate to the Lord // Ponder the miracle of Jesus’ personal love for you today.

April 23, 2025 // Wednesday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 24:13-35 Reflect on the Word // Was not my heart burning, Lord? I have known You. I have experienced Your goodness. I have seen You move in my life. And yet, I find myself at times feeling so disconnected from You. I grew up in Catholic School, attended religious education classes and youth ministry nights. I served in ministry (and still do) and yet, I have moments in my life where the burning love for the Lord in my heart is not there.  Have you had this experience, sister? Where the Lord is so near, taking each step right next to you and yet, you feel an emptiness where there was once overflow of His love and presence? The two men on the road to Emmaus were accompanied by Jesus. Yet they did not recognize Him. They received His interpretation of everything that has come to be through the will of the Father. They desired to hear more, to be fed with knowledge of this Messiah.  And I find myself doing the same. I try to fill this hole with another podcast, conference, or inspiring talk at my parish. We try to satisfy ourselves only to realize we have not received fullness, rather a fix.  I began to replace an audio of a talk with the sound of His voice in the silence of my heart. I began to learn how He speaks to me directly and learned His language of love for me. He has opened my eyes to see the intimacy He holds for me, uniquely and personally. Only after I know His voice, can the other things draw me deeper. The desire of these men was not bad and neither is our desire to hear more about Him. However, the Lord wants our eyes to be opened to His true presence. He has given us access to Himself directly,  freely given at every second of every day dwelling within us from Baptism. He is ever present in “the breaking of the Bread” (Luke 24:35), which is the Eucharist. Today He invites you and me to meet Him there. There, where our hearts will burn for Him once again. Relate to the Lord // Spend five minutes in silence, listening for the voice of the Lord in your heart.

April 22, 2025 // Tuesday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 20:11-18 Reflect on the Word //  A scared cry pierces the dark stillness: a nightly call from my three year old, troubled again by his nightmares. The blankets next to me shuffle as my husband swings his legs out, padding to our little boy’s side. I hear mumbled prayers and intermittent sniffles; I smile as I imagine his little hand being enveloped in his daddy’s.  My son recognizes his father and knows he’s safe. The presence of fatherly love calms his fears. That childlike trust is very simple and yet, I wonder if I’m that acutely aware of the love and care of the Lord.  Jesus, show me You. As Saint Mary Magdalene, when she was searching in the garden, was at first unaware she was speaking with her Lord, so we miss Him sometimes too. We can pray to recognize Him in the midst of life.  Make me aware of Your presence in my past. When we’re frustrated at how a situation turned out or a relationship went awry. When we blame ourselves for hurts caused. When the past’s painful stories and heartaches tug us downwards. Let’s pray to remember He’s been beside us, desiring to hold our hands and heal our hearts. Make me aware of Your presence in my now. In the joys and frustrations. When we fail or thrive. In the company of friends, in the delight of our family. In seemingly hopeless moments or the overwhelm of daily life. In traffic, burnt dinners, and endlessly sick children. In the crosses we’ve had thrust upon us, we beg Him to hold our hands and keep us upright.  Make me aware of Your presence in my future. We ask Him to take our fears of what may come. For the futures of our children and others we love. He wants to help us unclench our fists from carefully plotted plans and to remind us that our ways are not His ways. I’m not made for this world but for the one He’s prepared for me. May He hold our hands and lead us forward. In every situation of our lives, may we be looking for Christ, so we don’t mistake Him for the gardener. Let us know He is there, holding our hands. Relate to the Lord // Which prayer above resonated with you most? Make it your own, meditating on it 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?   

Saturday, April 19, 2025 Happy Saturday, friend! We are so excited to share with you what's coming up this week as we all prepare our hearts by praying with readings for Sunday, the day of rest with our Lord. Live Liturgically // This Week’s Feast Days Saturday, April 19 (today!) // Holy Saturday and the Easter Vigil April 20 // Easter Sunday of The Resurrection of the Lord April 21 // Monday in the Octave of Easter April 22 // Tuesday in the Octave of Easter April 23 //Wednesday in the Octave of Easter April 24 // Thursday in the Octave of Easter April 25  // Friday in the Octave of Easter Letter from the Editor //  Dear Sister,  Today is Holy Saturday, a day when the tabernacles in Catholic churches all over the world stand open and empty. The altars are stripped bare, and we wait beside the tomb, which we know will be empty tomorrow on Easter Sunday, as empty as the tabernacles of today. But for now let us rest here and wait with all of creation, which anticipates tomorrow. Then tomorrow, as Mary of Magdala does in the Gospel, we go to the tomb “early in the morning” while it is “still dark” (John 20:1). Tomorrow we can follow her back to the Apostles and hear her worried report. Tomorrow we can run back with Peter and the other disciple and see the burial cloths and believe (see John 20:8).  But for today, let us hide with Jesus in the Tomb. We can tuck our hearts into His pierced side and ask Him for all that is sinful in us to die with Him. In doing this our “life is hidden with Christ in God,” and we know that tomorrow we will be “raised with Christ” and will have good reason to hope to one day “appear with him in glory” (Colossians 3:1, 3-4). And when He rises, we can be bold like Saint Peter in bearing witness to the whole world (see Acts 10:39), that those of us who believe “shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord” (Psalm 118:17).  In Christ’s Love, Susanna Read the readings for the Resurrection of the Lord (Mass of Easter Day):  First Reading // Acts 10:34a, 37-43 Psalm // Psalm 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23 Second Reading // Colossians 3:1-4 Gospel // John 20:1-9 Prayer Practice // How will you rest and wait with hope today?   

April 18, 2025 // Good Friday of the Passion of the Lord Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Isaiah 52:13 - 53:12  Reflect on the Word // I notice Jesus’ silent loving gaze as it penetrates the hearts of his persecutors. He looks with compassion at each person. I’m awed by His quiet strength and calm composure as blood oozes from open wounds. Then His gaze meets mine. Turning, I resist, not wanting to meet His eyes, lest He see only horror and pity in mine. I somehow detect an inaudible whisper: It’s okay, I know. Facing His burning gaze once more, it incinerates my carefully constructed walls, igniting my heart with His love until I desire only Him.  “Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; like a lamb led to the slaughter . . .” (Isaiah 53:7). It’s clear that Jesus chose silence. For surely none can silence God.Then a childhood incident emerges, a painful memory in which I was shamed and silenced. Now I  understand. Jesus’ suffering is intimately connected to my own. Beneath His Cross, I know what to do. I renounce lies I’ve repeated inwardly ad nauseam—lies with which I built walls of isolation and victimhood. I banish them now with the truth. Jesus delights in the sound of my voice. My voice is a gift, enabling me to become a  gift to others, to sing and speak of the healing power of  God. I’m now confident that God, my Father, will provide the endurance, courage, and hope I need to continue to reverse unhealthy ways of thinking. Jesus, silent and suffering, consoles and strengthens me, enabling me to rest in Him and choose silence for love’s sake. The Holy Spirit fills my heart with love and gratitude. Isn’t it astonishing that the goodness of that long ago Friday has the power to meet us here today?  Whether harmed by our own sins or those of others, Jesus draws near us in a powerful way, suffering with us. Silently, He waits for us to let Him into the most tender places. He desires to heal every wound. Relate to the Lord // Meditate on one of Jesus’ five holy wounds today. As you do, allow Him to look at one of your wounds.  

April 17, 2025 // Holy Thursday Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm from the Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper: Psalm 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18 Reflect on the Word //  I cupped my fingers gingerly around the small vessel of wine and prayed for steady hands as I joined the other women in our procession toward the altar. It wasn’t my first time bringing up the gifts at Mass, but the fact that I had been asked to do so at this particular moment felt divinely ordained. In all honesty, I hadn’t planned on celebrating Holy Thursday Mass at this parish. I was coming out of Lent with a deep-rooted ache in my heart that no amount of prayer, fasting, or almsgiving had been able to shake. But I sensed that resurrection awaited me here.   The bishop smiled at me as I presented the simple offering that would soon be changed substantially into the Blood of Jesus Christ. What I would come to discover was that something had changed in me too. Or, as the Psalmist would say, my bonds had been loosed (see Psalm 116:16).   Through the ordinary action of handing over the wine for the sacred banquet, I had been invited to hand over my heart as well, with all its woundedness. And that’s precisely the point, isn’t it, sister? That through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ, our very selves would be taken to the Father as an oblation and emptied out “in the presence of all his people” (Psalm 116:18) to bring about transformation. Healing. Communion.   We chant together as one body in today’s Responsorial Psalm, “Our blessing cup is a communion with the Blood of Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:16).  But do we truly perceive the beauty of this profound sharing in the Paschal sacrifice? As we embark on the journey of the Sacred Triduum, let’s bring the whole of our being to the One Who held nothing back from us. His Blood was shed so we might drink in the Father’s glory to the full. A self-emptying love like this demands nothing less in return.   Listen, dear one. Can you hear Him beckon us to the table? Come, He says, receive Me. Give yourself to Me. Share in this Communion.  Relate to the Lord // What will you offer Jesus this Holy Thursday? Place it on the altar to be transformed in the liturgy.

April 16, 2025 // Wednesday of Holy Week Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Isaiah 50:4-9 Reflect on the Word //  The confrontation came without warning, words as sharp as daggers, striking me where it hurt most. I stood frozen for a moment, feeling the sting of rejection in my chest. Every instinct screamed to retreat, to fade into the shadows of fear and self-doubt. But then, in the stillness, a quiet reminder whispered within me: This is not the first time this has happened. Jesus has walked this road before. He will walk it with me again. In Isaiah 50:6, we are given a glimpse of the Suffering Servant: "I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting." Suffering is painful. Yet, what stands out is His incredible resolve. He did not shield His face. Even knowing the immense pain ahead, He stood firm. He endured. We, too, are called to stand firm, not in our own strength, but in the strength of the Lord. As Isaiah reminds us, "The Lord GOD is my help; therefore I am not disgraced" (Isaiah 50:7). He does not abandon us to fight alone. In the face of affliction, whether in relationships, work, or personal struggles, He is near, upholding us. Just as Christ faced every form of suffering, we, too, are invited to stand with courage. In our pain, we are not abandoned. We stand with the One Who endured it all for us, showing us how to rise from rejection and remain steadfast in love. As we prayerfully enter into the Sacred Triduum, let us lean on Jesus’ strength as He leads us to the Resurrection. Relate to the Lord // Consecrate your Holy Week to Jesus through Mary. Welcome everything that comes with Him