Devotions

What Are Your Chapel Bells?

October 10, 2025 // Friday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Joel 1:13-15; 2:1-2 Reflect on the Word //  The chapel bell cut into our morning work, a clear chime amidst the silence of the cloister. I knelt in a side garden with a Sister, making space in the soil for baby strawberry plants. The next hole was ready and waiting for one of our last plants; we had only to place it in the ground and pat the dirt about its roots. As Sister rested her shovel, I broke the quiet, asking if we should quickly plant the seedling before going. But she told me that we would leave it until tomorrow. She was being called into the house of the Lord, and she went—evidently with the conviction that everything else could wait. “Into the house of the Lord, your God, and cry to the Lord!” the prophet Joel urges in today’s First Reading (Joel 1:14). “Blow the trumpet in Zion, sound the alarm on my holy mountain!” (Joel 2:1) It is a call to action that sounds urgent, dark, demanding. It is not the sort of gentle invitation that I would admittedly prefer. I like to be slowly romanced rather than rushed into anything—and certainly not into repentance. But what I witnessed that morning, on a different “holy mountain” out in California, was a woman who heard the urgency of the bell as the demand of love. She didn’t procrastinate, she didn’t panic, she just said yes. Today’s First Reading reminds me of this Sister, and I remember that love is demanding. “The house of your God is deprived of offering and libation” (Joel 1:13). How often do I still hold parts of my life back from God? But He loves me so much that He wants my heart to belong to Him entirely—whatever that takes. What are the offerings of which we, too, deprive the Lord? Perhaps we can rethink the small inconveniences: the chores, the phone calls, the unexpected requests of others. What if these interruptions are not merely a chaos of alarms and trumpets, but are our own mid-day prayer bells, calling us to love? Today, may we be willing to lay aside our own plans in order to respond. Relate to the Lord // What does love demand of you today? How can you respond promptly and joyfully to the Lord?  

Enduring in Prayer

October 9, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Denis, Bishop and Martyr, and his Companions, Martyrs // Optional Memorial of Saint John Leonardi, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:5-13 Reflect on the Word //  The stress of moving was overwhelming: purging and packing, painters and handymen, outrageous demands from our buyers. As a result, insomnia, anxiety, and chronic pain surged throughout my body. Days before we were scheduled to move, I got so sick, I was bedridden. Where are You? I prayed. Why don’t You want to help me? I related to the friend knocking on the door in today’s Gospel. Only I was begging God for help in the midst of moving and for hope and healing from health issues that this move was aggravating. And just like in the Gospel, God made me wait. He allowed me to be persistent in prayer (in the case of my health issues, for years). Not to be cruel or to punish me—that is not how God works. But to invite me to fully depend on Him—to help me recognize my self-reliance pales in comparison to His grace and strength. As I approached our new home, it was as if the Lord finally opened the door to my knocking. And as I walked through the doorway, my prayers were answered, almost immediately. The insomnia disappeared, the pain throughout my body eased, and my heart found peace—and this was only the beginning of the healing I began to experience. My dear sister, Jesus loves when we pray to Him, and He never tires of hearing from us. He wants us to come to Him with our every need: “[A]sk and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Luke 11:9). Whatever we are praying for today, He invites us to be persistent. He may not answer our prayers right away, because what we may be asking for is a snake instead of a fish (see Luke 11:11). But as we persevere in prayer, our hearts will soften to His ways and conform to His will. So that one day, when we ask, we will receive; when we seek, we will find; and when we knock, the Lord will, indeed, open the door for us. Relate to the Lord // Where do you need to persevere in prayer? Ask again today.   

Ask

October 8, 2025 // Wednesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:1-4 Reflect on the Word // It was not poor planning or ambitious hopes that brought my life to a pace that felt like I was on a treadmill set just a little beyond my gait. When I finally made it into His Presence in the Adoration Chapel, I knelt and sighed: Thank You for helping me make it here, Lord! In response, I felt His warm and welcoming smile. It was like He was matching my gait when I heard: Give us this day our daily bread (see Luke 11:3).  He said to my heart: Ask. I knew it was His voice in my interior because it echoed with a sense of His vulnerable Heart. He was responding to my deeper needs that had brought me into the chapel at such a pace—those unconscious spaces that cry out for the Savior.  It was the same promptness and simple goodness with which Jesus responds to His disciples’ desire to learn how to pray like Him in the Gospel today. Prayer is easy for Him. He doesn’t need a long technical and historical discourse to teach His disciples how He prays. They are simply captivated by seeing Him pray, and so they ask Him. His answer is frank, clear, and reveals the mystery of the Blessed Trinity.  When I felt Jesus tell me, Ask, it was with a sense of His union with the Father. It was like I could touch the Father’s nearness and provision within the invitation. But the challenge was that I was being directed to be more vulnerable, more intimate. To ask for my daily bread would mean revealing those parts of my heart that can be disappointed, places of real hopes.  It took me weeks to get used to praying like this, and it became like an adventure of greater and greater beauty because the Father’s care became something I could see and touch. He healed areas of defense, doubt, and fear, and launched our relationship into new vistas: Ask. The Lord invites us all to pray the Our Father with the same childlike asking that the disciples modeled in the Gospel today.  Relate to the Lord // What will you ask of the Lord today? Share your desires with Him vulnerably now.  

Martha and the Three Lies

October 7, 2025 // Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 10:38-42  Reflect on the Word // I can feel it in my chest. The pressure. My shoulders ache from tension. I notice that my breathing is shallow. My body is in well-designed sync with my mind and heart. I have placed the weight of the world—which isn’t mine to bear—upon myself in the form of to-do lists, illusions, unfair expectations, and sorrow.  I catch myself, blessedly, and begin to unwind what has me entangled physically and spiritually.  Today’s Gospel is a familiar one. I have previously quipped that I have a Mary heart in a Martha life. But as I’ve lived longer with the Lord, and have returned to this passage more, I wonder if these two sisters reveal to us the battle that occurs in the heart of every disciple of Jesus.  Martha’s sincere complaint to Jesus reveals three lies that threaten every human soul (see Luke 1:40): I am not loved. (“. . . do you not care?”) I am alone. (“. . . left me by myself”) No one will help me. (“. . .  to do the serving? Tell her to help me.”) When I labor at the service of these lies, the pressure moves in. I bear the weight of the world. I don’t breathe freely.  But Mary’s posture reveals the three truths that dismantle these temptations (see Luke 1:39): I am loved. (Jesus wants to be in my house.) I am close to Him. (I sit beside Him, at His feet.) He always helps me. (I listen to Him.) Both women are deeply loved by Jesus. And Jesus deeply loves me, even when I struggle against the same temptations as Martha and bring my complaints to Him. He kindly, calmly, lovingly points to Mary, reminding me of the truth of His love.  Perhaps this is why Jesus calls it “the better part” (Luke 1:42). When we choose to believe that we are loved, that Jesus is close to us, and that He always helps us, we go about the busy work of our hands with lightness and security.  Friends, we have been given the better part, and it will not be taken from us. Relate to the Lord // Take a deep breath. Relax your shoulders. Repeat and agree with these three truths: I am loved. (Jesus wants to be in my house.) I am close to Him. (I sit beside Him, at His feet.) He always helps me. (I listen to Him.)  

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In the Belly of the Fish

October 6, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Bruno, Priest // Optional Memorial of Blessed Marie-Rose Durocher, Virgin [In the Dioceses of the United States] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Jonah 1:1–2:1-2, 11 Reflect on the Word // The pain was searing, striking in the darkness of night. A shrieking in my back, hips, and legs. I rolled over. Then I sat up. Then I tried a walk down the hall. Nothing helped. I bent over the kitchen sink thinking I might be sick. I nearly woke my husband to take me to the ER, but I didn’t want him to see me crying. I was caught completely unprepared. In all of the appointments I had—with doctors and nurses and technicians—no one ever mentioned bone pain as a side effect of the chemotherapy treatment I’d undertaken. And now here I was, in tears, frightened, wondering how much more I could stand. They say that your first round of chemo tells you what your next round will be like, only it will be a little worse. And a little worse the time after that, and so on, ramping up each treatment. After my first round I wondered if I could manage any more. Oh, how I wanted to run. Jesus tells us the three days and nights Jonah spent in the belly of the fish (see Jonah 1:17) was a prefiguring of His own three days in the tomb (see Matthew 12:40). Sometimes, I think the Lord allows us a little taste of the belly of the fish to whet our appetite for resurrection and redemption, to stir our longing for the might and sheer, glorious power of all He can do: to bring life from death. But I can tell you, it stinks in there. It’s dark and painful and feels mighty hopeless. Still, the fish spit Jonah out, the stone was rolled away from the tomb, and I got through chemo with a greater determination to serve the Lord and to embrace His call, even when that means utter darkness. When we find ourselves in “fish-belly” seasons, when it feels really dark and hopeless, let’s remember, we are fundamentally Easter people, created for new life, eternal life, and the joy that only life in Christ can bring. Relate to the Lord // Read and pray with the book of Jonah this week. (It’s only four chapters/two pages!)   

Get Ready for Sunday

Saturday, October 4, 2025 Letter from the Editor // Dear Sister, On the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Psalmist calls us to listen for the Lord’s voice “[f]or he is our God, and we are the people he shepherds” (Psalm 95:7). We are reminded to worship and  “kneel before the LORD who made us” (Psalm 95:6). As creatures, dependent on God, worship and obedience are the response which we are meant to give to our Creator and Savior. In the Gospel, Jesus talks about those who faithfully serve God as “unprofitable servants” (Luke 17:10), but if we look deeper into the story of our salvation we know that we have been gifted with His friendship as well. He has given us everything out of His deep love for us, and simply asks for us to give everything we have in return. Saint Paul tells us that grace is abounding in our daily lives so that we can in every moment “bear [our] share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God” (2 Timothy 1:8). Sister, we are living in the promise—God is present in the world and is bringing about the salvation He promised through the prophet Habakkuk in the First Reading. But He also has promises for us, that this salvation will come to fruition in our lives today. You may be waiting for fulfillment now, of a hope not yet realized. The Lord’s perfect timing is not our own;, He wants us to make an act of  increased faith and reminds us, that whatever we are waiting for, “if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late” (Habakkuk 2:3).  In Christ’s Love, Susanna Read the Readings for the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time:  First Reading // Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4 Psalm // Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9 Second Reading // 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14 Gospel // Luke 17:5-10 Live Liturgically // This Week’s Feast Days Saturday, October 4 (today!) // Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi //  Sunday, October 5 // Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Monday, October 6 // Optional Memorial of Saint Bruno, Priest // Optional Memorial of Blessed Marie-Rose Durocher, Virgin [In the Dioceses of the United States] Tuesday, October 7 // Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary Wednesday, October 8 // Wednesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Thursday, October 9 // Optional Memorial of Saint Denis, Bishop and Martyr, and his Companions, Martyrs // Optional Memorial of Saint John Leonardi, Priest Friday, October 10 // Friday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time  

He Identifies with Us

October 3, 2025 // Friday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 10:13-16 Reflect on the Word //  “If you don’t stop eating those chocolates, I’ll break your other arm!” At age twelve, I was not alarmed by my mom’s unconventional, overly-dramatic “threats.” I was used to it. But as she left my hospital bedside, nurses whispered, casting disapproving looks toward her back.  Later, one returned to interrogate me as to how I’d really broken my wrist. I answered truthfully with the same explanation my mom had already given. Because of the love relationship between us, their judgment toward my mother felt like personal judgment of me. When they rejected her, they rejected me. This childhood experience comes to mind when I ponder the love relationship between Jesus and His disciples. He says, “Whoever listens to you listens to me. Whoever rejects you rejects me. And whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me” (Luke 10:16). Because He loves them deeply and has conformed His disciples so closely to Himself, Jesus takes rejection of them personally. He identifies so closely with His disciples that when they are rejected, He considers Himself rejected too. His unity with God the Father (the One Who sent Him) in relation to us is an added source of strength and consolation for us. And from the Father and the Son, we are sent the gift of the Holy Spirit. Jesus draws us into His identity in the Sacraments. The Trinity comes to dwell in us at Baptism. We consume the very Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus in the Eucharist. We are strengthened by the Holy Spirit at Confirmation and are then sent out to bear witness to Christ. Our one task is to remain faithful. When we’re listened to, we know they’ve listened to Him, and we can bear any rejection because we’re united with Him in the Holy Trinity.  Relate to the Lord // How can you remain faithful today?

Trusting Like Children

October 2, 2025 // Memorial of the Holy Guardian Angels Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 18:1-5, 10 Reflect on the Word // I thought I had made progress. I’d brought it up in therapy countless times, I’d journaled,  labeled the emotions, identified the root cause. I even prayed about it—more than once. But one quiet afternoon, a friend said something small, and suddenly I was fighting back tears. Where did that come from?  I had already “dealt with” this. Right? But the reaction didn’t lie. There was still something raw underneath, something unresolved that analysis hadn’t touched. I realized I had been trying to manage my healing more than receive it. Somewhere along the way, healing had become another thing to control—another task to complete.  Jesus' call to “turn and become like children” strikes me in a tender place (Matthew 18:3). I don’t like feeling small. I want to understand, manage, and master my own healing. I want to know why I feel what I feel and exactly how to fix it. But children don’t approach their needs that way. They don’t have all the language or answers. They simply feel—and they bring those feelings to someone they trust. That’s the invitation in today’s Gospel. Jesus isn’t infantilizing us or asking us to become childish, but rather asking us to have a childlike surrender of our illusion of control. A child doesn't pretend to be okay when they aren’t. They don’t try to analyze their way out of pain. They just come. That’s what humility looks like—trusting God enough to bring the messy, unedited truth of ourselves into His presence, even when we don’t fully understand it. And Jesus receives us there. In fact, He sees that part of us—the raw, needy, tender parts we often try to hide or fix on our own. He warns us not to despise “these little ones” (Matthew 18:10)—and that includes the little, hurting parts of ourselves. What if true healing begins when we stop trying to be strong and start trusting like children? As we learn to let go of control, may we also learn to rest in God’s kindness, knowing He meets us exactly where we are—not where we think we should be. Relate to the Lord // Have you been trying to manage your healing? Ask Jesus to help you to simply receive instead. 

Granting our Requests

October 1, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Nehemiah 2:1-8 Reflect on the Word //  When my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer a few years ago, I remember crying out to the Lord. Once we knew our dad was dying, I asked that I would feel the Lord’s presence as we walked my dad home to Jesus. “Lord,” I cried out, “please allow me to somehow feel peace and joy and your presence in this sad and scary time.” The day my dad died, as we surrounded him in his final hours, the grace was palpable. The joy of the Lord was upon us. The Father was standing beside us, comforting us in the midst of our sadness.  In today’s First Reading, Nehemiah gets everything he asks for. When he asks to travel, and to be gone for a while, and for safe travel and even for wood to rebuild, the king grants it: “The king granted my requests, for the favoring hand of my God was upon me” (Nehemiah 2:8). Like the king did for Nehemiah, the Lord answered my requests for my father’s death. His favoring hand was upon me. We are as lucky as Nehemiah. We have a King Who gives us every single good thing we ask for. It’s easy sometimes to focus on all the ways our prayers don’t get answered. Our team lost. We didn’t get the promotion. Our loved one wasn’t healed. If we look at prayer as transactional, it’s tempting to keep track of the times we didn’t get our way. We might feel slighted by God or even abandoned by Him. But what about the times when we ask for something that really mattered—like peace or joy or the grace to make it through something really difficult?  When we look at our prayers through a lens of God’s goodness, when we see our requests through a broader lens, we are in tune with all the ways the Lord has answered our prayers. We have a good Father and He wants to give us every good thing we need. He is the good King, granting our requests and showing us His favor.  Relate to the Lord // How has the Lord’s favoring hand been upon you? Make a list and thank Him!  

You’re Invited

September 30, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Jerome, Priest and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Zechariah 8:20-23 Reflect on the Word // “There’s a praise and worship night at the seminary on Saturday. Want to go?” The lunchtime Bible study was wrapping up when an upperclassman invited me to the off-campus event. I had no idea what it was, but since I wanted friends in college who cared more about their faith than about boozy parties, I unhesitatingly said, “Yes.”  Saturday arrived and a few of us drove together for an evening of Eucharistic Adoration with praise music. A casual reception afterwards allowed young adults from all over the diocese to continue in fellowship. My cup was filled that evening. I couldn’t wait to go back for more time with Jesus and more fellowship with young adults. I soon extended the invitation to others.  The prophet Zechariah, in today’s First Reading, spoke of people who would one day reach out to neighbors, inviting them to seek and implore the favor of the Lord (see Zechariah 8:21). Sister, you and I are those people. Through Baptism, we are called to witness to the Lord’s love and mercy. We are equipped with the gifts of the Holy Spirit to invite others to seek the Lord with us.  Perhaps the call to evangelize has caused you to shrink back a bit. It did for me. I imagined knocking on doors, standing on street corners with signs, or living in foreign countries to teach people about Jesus. Evangelizing can be like that, but it can also be simpler. Evangelizing begins where we are right now. Like Philip who invited his friend Nathanael—“Come and see” (see John 1:45-46)—our outreach can sound like: “Want to join me for Mass and then grab coffee afterwards?” “There’s a Bible study on campus I’m going to; would you like to join me?” “I’ll be praying for you through this difficult time. Can I bring a meal over this week?” “I’m having brunch at my house next week and would love it if you could come!” We’re made for community and we’re made for the Lord, and He wants us to seek Him together. Relate to the Lord // Where is the Lord calling you into community? How is the Lord calling you to Himself?  

Praising Alongside the Angels

September 29, 2025 // Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, Archangels Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 138:1-5 Reflect on the Word //  I had made the decision to fast for the week, limiting my meals but also offering a sacrifice of praise to accompany my fasting. As I walked my dogs throughout the neighborhood, I prayed out loud thanking God for His great and little gifts to me. I sang in praise, uniting my prayer to the angels’ praise in Heaven, as I passed by the homes of my neighbors, not caring if anyone heard me or saw me in what would seem like talking and singing to myself. “In the sight of the angels I will sing your praises, Lord” (Psalm 138:1). As I cooked my breakfast, I continued my childlike song to the Lord, thanking Him for my home, for my dogs, for His goodness, for the gift of nourishing food, for healing me, and for renewing my strength. As I washed my dishes, I reflected on the time in college when I had begged the intercession of the archangels to be with me and help me during a serious illness. I remembered praying with the image of the angels walking beside me: Saint Raphael on my right bringing gifts of healing, Saint Gabriel announcing good news to me on my left, and Saint Michael offering strength and protection as he walked behind me as my rearguard. As I recalled this memory, with the water running over my dishes as I did my daily chores, I thanked God out loud for hearing my prayers and granting me healing and renewed strength through the gift of His angels (see Psalm 138:3).  Today’s Psalm reminds us that our daily lives can be deeply connected to moments of prayer and even praise alongside the angels, whom the Lord has given to us to guide and protect us. Our daily activities are precisely where we can give thanks to God. These unseen messengers offer us countless inspiration and support. May we remember to seek their presence and intercession in our praise to God. Even when we don’t feel like being grateful, a sacrifice of praise can be a beautiful offering, one that we do in the sight of the angels. Relate to the Lord // As we celebrate the feast of the Archangels today, how can your heart swell with gratitude to praise God for Who He is and what He has done in your life?

Get Ready for Sunday

Saturday, September 27, 2025 Letter from the Editor //Dear Sister, “Lay hold of eternal life, to which you were called” (1 Timothy 6:12), Saint Paul implores us in the Second Reading on the Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time. He makes it sound like something we can grasp and hold on to, and in one sense, it is. The choices we make reflect whether we have laid hold of eternal life or not. We can choose to “pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness” and “compete well for the faith” (1 Timothy 6:11-12). The Gospel and the First Reading give us a clearer picture of what this looks like. The Gospel shows us a rich man suffering in the netherworld, a rich man who spent his whole life focused on himself and his own pleasure. Every day, he ignored the man Lazurus who was lying at his door in poverty. Amos gives us a similar image as he warns the rich of his time that “their wanton revelry shall be done away with” and they will be the first to go into the Babylonian exile (Amos 6:7). Part of our call to lay hold of eternal life is to start seeing the poverty of those we encounter and pass by every day. Poverty looks like a homeless human person, suffering on the corner, whom we can relieve through showing love with a kind word and material aid. Poverty can also be something harder to identify that dwells in the lonely human heart, the anxious teen, the angry commenter online. The Lord is inviting us to “[secure] justice for the oppressed” and “[give] food to the hungry” (Psalm 146:7), showing them His merciful love with patience and gentleness. In Christ’s Love, Susanna Read the Readings for the Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time:  First Reading // Amos 6:1a, 4-7 Psalm // Psalm 146:7, 8-9, 9-10 Second Reading // 1 Timothy 6:11-16 Gospel // Luke 16:19-31 Live Liturgically // This Week’s Feast Days Saturday, September 27 (today!) // Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul, Priest Sunday, September 28 // Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Monday, September 29 // Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, Archangels Tuesday, September 30 // Memorial of Saint Jerome, Priest and Doctor of the Church Wednesday, October 1 // Memorial of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Thursday, October  2 // Memorial of the Holy Guardian Angels  

He is the Temple

September 26, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saints Cosmas and Damian, Martyrs Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Haggai 2:1-9 Reflect on the Word //  “Look—here it is!” I wiped my hands on my apron and took the phone from my brother. I squinted at the image he’d pulled up of our childhood home, much smaller and humbler than I remembered it.  Later that night, finding myself hungering to remember more, I searched online for our first parish and found images of the majestic St. Anne’s. Seeing the red brick bell towers and arched stained-glass windows brought back floods of memories of my First Communion and the grainy photos of my Baptism. Sadly, I read that the building had been sold and was now home to a Protestant congregation. I ached as I thought of what it must look like inside: stripped of statues and bereft of its marble altar with no tabernacle, no Easter candle, no kneelers. I clicked off the phone. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, not that way. In today’s First Reading, the prophet Haggai is speaking to a people who must have had similar feelings about the Temple in Jerusalem. Their exile over, they’d begun to rebuild their house of worship but were feeling discouraged as they sifted through desecrated rubble. Those who remembered the Temple “in its former glory” were desolate as they surveyed the ruins (Haggai 2:3). Jerusalem’s glory days were over, their resources scarce. This temple would pale in comparison to the one they remembered. But Haggai mysteriously prophesies that the future glory of “this house” will surpass the former (Haggai 2:9).  This prophecy is fulfilled in Jesus’ time, as the splendor of the Second Temple is added to by the Persians and by Herod the Great. But the more important temple is that of Jesus’ Body, which is also to be destroyed, but miraculously restored again in three days, and where “treasures of all the nations will come in” (Haggai 2:7). Sister, we are this treasure, the living stones that build up the Body of Christ. We will see buildings—even sacred places—crumble. We long for things to last but will see them wither. But strengthened by the grace of our Baptism, we put our faith in the One to Whom we have been united, Who holds us all together in Himself—home and temple both, eternally. Relate to the Lord // What places from your own childhood or early life come to mind as you read Claire’s experience? Share your memories with the Lord.   

His Delight

September 25, 2025 // Thursday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 149:1b-2, 3-4, 5-6a and 9b Reflect on the Word //  I walked through the doors of the convent and embraced my friend, a religious sister. She looked at me with a big smile and gave me another hug. We were so happy to see each other. I sat down to tell her all about what the Lord was doing in my life and what was bringing me joy. She was not only delighted with me at what the Lord was doing but also delighted in me, joy pouring through her eyes and smile.  I have to admit that when I read the Scripture passages of the day, I usually do not spend much time with the Responsorial Psalm. I think as though I should go to the “meat”—the dense stuff, the heart of the matter, if you will. Yet, as I prayed and asked the Lord to speak to my heart today through the Readings, I was brought back to the Psalm.  “The Lord takes delight in His people” (Psalm 149:4) turned into “The Lord takes delight in His daughter, Rocio.” I began replacing my name with the names of those who surround me on a daily basis, my husband, my family. But then I also felt the tug to add the names of those who I find difficult to understand or relate to. “The Lord takes delight in . . .” It may be an easy thing to skip over, but this truth is one that is worth pondering over. The Lord delights in us. He not only loves us but likes us. He is devoted to our good. The Lord shares in our joy and we in His.  When we accept and reflect on this truth—that the Lord loves us and delights in us—we can more easily believe this truth about others and live accordingly. I want to grow in the knowledge of His love for me and I pray you do too, sister. May we experience His delight over us—and over every person we meet. Let us praise Him and sing for joy because we are loved (see Psalm 149-1, 3-5). Relate to the Lord // Pray this verse from today’s Psalm with your own name. What stirs in your heart as you do? Share it with the Lord.  

He Brings Up From the Abyss

September 24, 2025 // Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Responsorial Psalm: Tobit 13:2-4, 7-8 Reflect on the Word // There I sat in the driver's seat, as I drove our daughter to school. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning—and yet, the Lord’s gentle voice was as loud as it had ever been. Will you let Me show you your motherhood—as I created it to be? I shuddered at the thought on that Tuesday morning. Motherhood was hard for me. It was a role He chose me for, but I felt so frequently that I didn't fit the part. As His question rested on my heart, I continued to drive. Would I allow Him into this place of identity that felt broken and abandoned? Forgotten and wrecked? I'd spend the next year leaning into His Heart as He showed me the hard places of my heart: the wounds and hurts amidst my motherhood. He did not come to reveal my brokenness for the sake of showing it to me. He came to bring light, healing, and restoration to parts of my heart that had died in the darkness. Going to those places with Him was uncomfortable, raw, and painful. And yet, it was because He accompanied me into those places that I can look back now and see His healing and tender care for me. In today's Responsorial Psalm from Tobit, we are invited to reflect on the seemingly contradictory human experience. The seasons of scourging that lead to mercy. The being cast down only to be brought back up. Our Father does not point to our pain only to sit back, scoff at us, and let us figure it out on our own. Rather, He brings light to those raw yet hardened places of our hearts. He meets us in the depths of our difficulties and promises to turn those depths to heights. He reminds us that it is not our striving that leads to holiness, but His Holy Spirit that lives always within us and transforms us from the inside out. So now we praise Him with full voice—knowing and trusting that He will take and transform all that is cast down into beauty and life. Relate to the Lord // Pause in quiet prayer and listen for God’s voice. What does He want to say to your heart?   

His Desire is Union

September 23, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 122:1-5 Reflect on the Word // I uncomfortably fidgeted in my pew as the retreat speaker’s invitation pierced my heart: “Let Him look at You.” Locking eyes with the Eucharistic Jesus upon the altar never seemed intimidating until this moment. I feared what He would think if I really let Him into my heart, if I really allowed Him to look at me.  “Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord” (Psalm 122:1), is what’s echoed through today’s Psalm. Not only can we find Jesus at home in the tabernacle or monstrance within a physical building, like a church or chapel, but He also makes His home in our hearts. He chose to make His dwelling place within us at our Baptisms. Going back into that moment at the retreat, I was not rejoicing to go into the Lord’s home, my heart. There were many parts of my heart that I desired to protect and hide from Him, and only expose the “good parts” of me.  Friend, yes, He appreciates our riches, but He’s far more attracted to our weakness and poverty—which is completely the opposite of what we would assume. The Lord is a Lord of abundance. When we allow Him further into our hearts, His chosen dwelling place, He brings His abundance into the areas where we’re lacking, bringing His riches into our poverty.  The Psalm describes the house of the Lord “built as a city with compact unity” (Psalm 122:3). Unity is the desire of the Lord’s Heart; likewise, our hearts thirst for unity with Him. He doesn’t long to be invited into our hearts to criticize or shame us, but to be intimately and deeply united with us, and provide what we can’t provide for ourselves. His utmost desire is to be intimately united to your heart and He wants to rejoice with you there. Relate to the Lord // What would it look like to rejoice with the Lord today?  

Collections

September 22, 2025 // Monday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 126:1-6 Reflect on the Word // My children collect all sorts of nature’s wonders. Tucked in corners, on nature shelves, and in bedrooms throughout our home can be found rocks, leaves, feathers, empty egg shells, nuts, seed pods, and even dead bugs. These collections delight my children and expand their imaginations and understanding of God’s created world. Any time I try to “clean out” these items, I am met with offended objections. Their discoveries teach me something about how the Lord sustains the human heart. I am called to be a collector too. Today’s Responsorial Psalm is about the overwhelming joy that accompanies remembrance of God’s marvels: “Then they said among the nations, ‘The LORD has done great things for them.’ The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad indeed” (Psalm 126:2-3). I want to be glad. I want to remain glad in my life even when circumstances stack evidence against it. And I remain glad through my belief and proclamation that the Lord has done great things for me. But alas, I am quick to forget! I tend to receive a blessing from the Father, then turn immediately to the next problem, lack, inconvenience, or pain. I want to be more like my children, collecting the treasures He provides, displaying them in the home of my heart, and absolutely refusing to let them be “thrown out”—forgotten.  How can we, then, become childlike collectors of the good things God does in our lives? By noticing them (which requires our attention), truly treasuring them (which requires our time), bringing them into the home of our hearts (which requires space), and never letting them go (which requires longstanding commitment).  When we do this, our mouths will be “filled with laughter and our tongue rejoicing” because we will place our delight in the marvels of the Lord (Psalm 126:2).  Relate to the Lord // Catalogue the Lord’s love and faithfulness today. Start your collection, whether tangibly in your home or through journaling.