June 13, 2026 // Memorial of The Immaculate Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary // Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua, Priest and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 5:33–37  Reflect on the Word //  My father was an honorable and generous man who used pithy sayings to impart life lessons to his children and grandchildren. Often, when our words were untruthful, insincere, or mean, he would warn us: “Even a fish wouldn’t get into trouble if he kept his mouth shut.” Over the course of many decades, the image of an open-mouthed fish snagged on a deadly hook has been a vivid reminder to pay attention to my speech, and to keep my mouth shut. From an early age my dad taught me the importance of saying what I meant and meaning what I said, but my ability to live with this kind of integrity only came much later, with the help of the Holy Spirit. In today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus calls out the widespread use of legal oath-swearing in His time that provided loopholes in the law and cheapened the value of one’s words. When Jesus instructed His followers to let their yes be yes and their no be no, He challenged them to go beyond the external or superficial observances of the law (see Matthew 5:37). They must cultivate an inner disposition of honesty and trustworthiness, expressed in both words and actions. Jesus is also instructing me as a disciple living in a world of endless talk, empty promises, and words that lack clarity and truth. Jesus calls me to be different from the prevailing culture, to be trustworthy in what I say and do, and to reflect the character of God Who is Truth. This means I am striving to always tell the truth, with no white lies or half-truths that deflect the blame or self-protect. I am striving to always follow through on what I’ve agreed to do (or not do) without fanfare or excuses—when others are watching, or when no one notices. Sister, join me in being a woman of the Word and a woman of your word! With the help of the Holy Spirit and the grace of the Sacraments, our words—truthful and trustworthy—can be powerful instruments of God’s love. Relate to the Lord // Ask the Holy Spirit make you a woman of the Word and a woman of your word!

April 11, 2026 // Saturday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 4:13-21  Reflect on the Word //  I stood in a very long and slow airport security line, tired, anxious, and determined to not engage in conversation. When a man behind me inquired about my destination and purpose of travel, I replied tersely, “Omaha, for work.” But he persisted, “What do you do for work?” There it was, the Holy Spirit’s nudge! “I’m Catholic. I speak and write about Jesus.” His eyes lit up as he described recently entering a Catholic Church for the first time: “I saw something round and white in a gold stand on the altar. I can’t stop thinking about the peace I felt. What was that?” I eagerly replied, “What you described is actually a Who; His name is Jesus and you can find Him . . .” The line was moving too fast to say much more, so I prayed for him as I walked to my gate, determined to speak about Jesus more willingly. In today’s First Reading we see Peter and John, alive in the Pentecost power of the Spirit, courageously speaking and healing in the Name of Jesus. Their fearlessness and confidence both astonish and concern the Jewish leaders, who thought Jesus’ Death had ended His influence. As men who have been with Jesus, these Apostles aren’t simply keeping the memory of Jesus alive. Instead, the Risen Jesus is continuing to act through them. Although the Sanhedrin threatens punishment, it is impossible for the Apostles not to speak about what they have seen and heard as companions and eyewitnesses to Jesus (see Acts 4:20). The Lord wants to do the same through me, just like He prompted me to do at the airport. And He wants to do the same through you. What might be holding you back from speaking about Jesus? Rather than it feeling like an inconvenience or impossibility, may we be filled with power from on High that makes it impossible not to speak about what we have seen and heard! Relate to the Lord // Talk about Jesus today. Whether to a friend or stranger, allow the Holy Spirit to bring His Name and your testimony to your lips.

March 10, 2026 // Tuesday of the Third Week of Lent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 18:21-35  Standing together in the church social hall, my husband and I reflected on forty years of married life with our audience of wide-eyed newlyweds, weary parents, and weathered grandparents. They laughed as we recounted stories of poor communication, and listened intently to the challenges of learning to love more deeply in our brokenness and pain. During the Q & A time, a woman inquired, “How often did you find yourselves needing to forgive each other? Was it difficult?” Smiling, I replied, “At least seventy times seven. Without God’s help, it’s not only difficult, it’s impossible!” In today’s Gospel, Peter poses a very practical question to Jesus about the limits of extending forgiveness, particularly to family and the close community of believers, whose daily interactions are often occasions for conflict and offense. While Peter generously suggests seven times, a biblical number signifying fullness and perfection, Jesus responds with a new standard for forgiveness: “ . . . not seven times but seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22). The original Greek can also be translated as  “seventy times seven.” This number expresses a continuous, boundless act of mercy that extends far beyond human capacity and understanding. Jesus then tells a parable to explain forgiveness in the Kingdom of Heaven. As a servant in this kingdom, I’m painfully aware of my utterly impossible situation. Humbled before my merciful, compassionate King, my debt of sin cancelled, I am set free to live and love as a true citizen in his Kingdom. But do I? It is often so difficult to forgive others, to offer even a small measure of the patient forgiveness God has shown to me, and bitterness and resentment can take root. On my own, “Kingdom” forgiveness is impossible.   Today, our merciful King and Master offers us an invitation to gratefully reflect on His infinite mercy. Faced with such immense generosity, let us ask Him to give us the supernatural capacity to express Kingdom forgiveness in our daily lives. Relate to the Lord // Did someone come to mind as you read today’s Gospel and devotion? Ask Jesus for the grace to forgive them, again and again if necessary.

January 26, 2026 // Memorial of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 10:1-9 Reflect on the Word //  I had stopped in various Catholic churches before, but this time I was determined to stay for the entire Mass. As a Jewish believer in Jesus, to me the Mass was both intriguing and foreign. Such as when the priest pronounced, “Go forth, the Mass is ended,” and everyone responded, “Thanks be to God.” I thought Catholics were thankful that the Mass was over and the priest had dismissed them! Later, as I learned the meaning of the closing words in Latin, "Ite, missa est," I understood that the faithful are sent from the Mass, on mission to spread the Gospel and act as God's presence in the world. In today’s Gospel we see Jesus, the master of the harvest, sending His disciples to gather others into His kingdom. His words aren’t sugarcoated with promises of welcoming crowds, comfortable lodgings, or sumptuous feasts. Instead, they will go into hostile territory, like defenseless lambs among wolves. Jesus’ instructions are clear and direct, and His urgent mission must not be marked by delays, distractions, or encumbrances. They must travel light, trust in God’s providence for all their needs, and be ready to do His works. We don’t hear how these disciples responded to their assignment. What were their facial expressions and body language? Did Jesus leave time for Q & A? They were most likely honored and excited to represent their master. Yet perhaps they also felt afraid and unprepared to venture away from the comfort of Jesus’ presence, into unfavorable conditions and possible rejection. They weren’t professionally trained in ministry; they were devoted followers of the Messiah, willing to sacrifice comfort, reputation, security, and even their own lives. It can be easy for us to want to stay put, comfortable and content, nourished by the Eucharist and our Catholic community. But at the end of each Mass, Jesus also sends us out to bring the Good News to all—even those who may be hostile or indifferent. Thanks be to God that we have been called, sent, and equipped to take up our mission to bring God’s love to a world that so desperately needs it!  Relate to the Lord // What would it look like for you to live on mission right where you are?

August 22, 2025 // Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ruth 1:1, 3-6, 14b-16, 22 Reflect on the Word // Usually, when I read the book of Ruth or hear her declaration of loyalty read at a wedding, I am drawn to the person of Ruth—the heroine and strong, faithful daughter-in-law who bound herself to Naomi and became the great-grandmother of King David and the ancestor of Jesus. But this time it is Naomi who comes into sharp focus. As I ponder the words departed, died, left, died also, good-bye, go back, abandon, and forsake, which are woven together in today’s First Reading in an almost dispassionate account of Naomi’s life, the themes of loss and bitter disappointment emerge. There is so much for Naomi to bear: exile from her native people and land of Israel, the deaths of her husband and sons, the loss of her second home in Moab, and the departure of her daughter-in-law Orpah. Scripture describes Naomi as “the woman [who] was left with neither her two sons nor her husband” (Ruth 1:5), underlining the dire circumstances of a destitute widow without social standing, protection, support, or financial provision. I can’t even imagine the deep grief, pain, and disappointment she experienced. In a place far away from the home and life she hoped for, she must have felt alone, forsaken, and afraid.  The Holy Spirit gently leads me to the places in my own heart that are filled with recent losses and bitter disappointments, which I have allowed to become occasions for complaining, self-pity, sadness, and fear. Jesus comes close and places His healing hand upon my battered heart. As He gently but firmly uncurls my fingers from tightly held plans and expectations, I surrender to Him again like our Blessed Mother Mary: Not my will, but Thy will be done. Naomi’s story ends with the hope and promise of a future restoration beyond what she could have imagined. Our stories, though tinged with hardship and loss, do not end there, but are meant to end in Heaven, being crowned as daughters of God like Mary on today’s feast. Sister, join me today in surrendering your litany of losses and disappointments to the only One Who can heal our hearts, fill what is empty, restore what is lost, and transform them into glorious possibilities.   Relate to the Lord // Is there a loss or disappointment in your life that keeps you from loving or trusting the Lord? Share your heart with Him.  

As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post.He said to him, "Follow me." And he got up and followed him. // Matthew 9:9 Years ago on a pilgrimage in Israel, we visited the Mount of Beatitudes, the traditional site of the Sermon on the Mount. Our group was invited to an outdoor Mass in the garden overlooking a field of wildflowers, and beyond it the Sea of Galilee. In this land, often termed the “fifth Gospel,” it wasn’t difficult to envision Jesus performing miracles and proclaiming the Kingdom of God. But this day wasn’t just an imaginative exercise—something different happened. As I approached the priest to receive the Eucharist, I saw Jesus passing by the rows of pilgrims—some kneeling and others in line waiting to receive Him in the Eucharist. It was as if God was opening the eyes of my heart to witness a spiritual reality. As I returned to my seat and knelt down to pray, I heard a clear voice behind me whisper, “You saw Him too, didn’t you?” Stunned, I turned to meet the shining eyes of an older woman, and we shared a knowing smile. Today’s Gospel for the Feast of Saint Matthew (see Matthew 9:9-13) describes a time when Jesus is passing by and His glance falls upon a rich and despised tax collector. Jesus does not see a man concerned only with money, but a man who is ready to exchange the riches of this world for Heavenly treasure.  For some time, Matthew might have observed Jesus’ miracles and overheard His teaching as he sat at his booth. But this day, before he even knows what he needs or how to ask, the gaze of God penetrates him. And amid the noisy, crowded street Matthew hears: “Follow me.” And then: “He got up and followed him.” This man, once despised, is raised up to become a disciple, and a great Apostle, Martyr, and Evangelist. Jesus is still passing by! He sees you long before you see Him, and He finds you wherever you are—not just on the mountain top, but also in the dark valleys of your pain, suffering, and shame. Lift up your eyes and see your Savior passing by, and do not delay as He calls you to follow Him.

I tell you, brothers and sisters, the time is running out [ . . . ] For the world in its present form is passing away. // 1 Corinthians 7:29; 31 Every October, I am stunned by the rapid transition from summer to autumn in Michigan. I shouldn’t be surprised—the familiar signs of impending changes are all around me. Sweaters, boots, and Christmas catalogs all make an appearance, and our beautiful array of blazing trees meet their destiny in leaf bags and bonfires. By the time you read this, I will be plunged into another season of dark days and icy winds, with the promise of spring buried deep beneath the frozen earth. I love the four seasons (although I wish winter was shorter). Each one is like the changing scenery on the stage of a play, and a tangible reminder that nothing in this world lasts forever. One day, sooner than we expect, the final curtain will signal not only the end of our individual lives, but also the glorious consummation of salvation history. In today’s Second Reading (see 1 Corinthians 7:29-31), Saint Paul encourages us to live with the awareness that life on this earth—the changing seasons, both in nature and in our own lives, are all temporary and fleeting. Remembering this truth shouldn’t generate apathy or ingratitude for the temporal gifts of God. It means, however, that I ought to hold everything loosely, not clinging to anything but Christ as the means to my salvation and ultimate happiness. Some days this eternal perspective is sharp and clear to me, but many days it remains in the background, an out-of-focus future reality. Sister, the Lord wants us to live with a sense of urgency that directs our decisions, orders our desires, and helps us live daily in joyful expectation of Christ’s return. If time is indeed running out, let’s use it wisely, investing in the things that will never pass away.

Then they asked him, ‘Teacher, when will this happen?And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?”// Luke 21:7 “When will Mom and Dad be back?” my three-year-old grandson tearfully asked as I tucked him in at bedtime. “Soon, very soon,” I said, waiting for the inevitable clarifying questions. “Will they be back before I fall asleep or after? Will they be here when I wake up? Will you give them a good report? Will there be sprinkle donuts for breakfast?” Whether it was my reassuring tone, his own exhaustion, or the promised donuts, his questions ceased and soon he was fast asleep. Even as adults, we never stop asking questions and wondering about the future. Each day we face so many unknowns—both personally and globally—that threaten to strike fear in our hearts and steal our peace. Our world is oversaturated with information, images, and sources that claim to be true but are often unreliable and unsettling. Like the early disciples, we, too, want answers to those burning questions. Are we living in the final days of human history? How should we interpret the signs of decline and despair that we witness in our world? How can we prepare for what is to come? The same Lord Who, in today’s Gospel (see Luke 21:5-11), gave His disciples sneak previews of the coming travails and warned them not to be terrified, is also with us, speaking His plans and promises into our troubled hearts. Jesus repeatedly tells us in Scripture to be watchful and prepared, but there is so much we do not know that He chooses not to reveal. But we do know that we can trust the One Who knows everything, Who holds our futures, our families, the Church, and the salvation of the world in His hands. Like my small grandson who trusts that his loving parents will come home soon, we, too, can rest confidently in our Good Father’s promise to return again. Sisters, even as we ponder the unknown, let us walk by faith and cling to our blessed hope with unwavering joy and expectation.

The nations shall revere your name, O LORD, and all the kings of the earth your glory, When the LORD has rebuilt Zion and appeared in his glory; When he has regarded the prayer of the destitute, and not despised their prayer. // Psalm 102:16-18 We were sitting around one evening, reflecting and commiserating about the state of the current culture—the moral confusion, lack of faith, weakened leadership—and on and on about what is wrong with the world. It was one of those conversations that can lead to anger and self-righteousness, or discouragement.   Of course my attempts to “solve the world’s problems” are often not the way the Lord does it. At times it’s more of me in my flesh, than me in the heart of Christ. Lord, it is so discouraging that many people don’t revere Your Name or welcome Your truth and love. Why don’t You bring judgment on this unbelieving generation? In today’s First Reading and Psalm, we see the Lord’s deep love and desire for all of the nations to revere His Name. When will I learn that God’s strategy for solving the world’s problems and redeeming the human race is so different from mine?  Christ came into the world as a baby, humble and dependent like the child in today’s Gospel (see Matthew 18:4). He was never influenced by what others thought of Him or affected by the disciples’ lack of faith. He never took matters into His own hands out of frustration or unjust anger. Instead, He was firmly fixed on obeying His Father’s will. He came to free all people, even those within our current culture, from moral confusion and faithlessness—and to free me (and you) from fear, striving, and self-importance.  Sister, today if you are overwhelmed by what’s wrong with the world, if you are battling discouragement or a judgmental spirit, remember that God is firmly in control of ALL things. He is resolutely determined to save His children through the sacrificial death of His Son, and there is no power in Heaven or on earth that can thwart His love. May the Lord give us hearts inflamed with love and mercy for those who do not yet know Him. May every discussion of the world’s problems end with the name of Jesus on our lips. He alone is the Savior of the world. 

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” // Matthew 11:28-30 I was the very last one on the plane that morning. I was sweating profusely beneath the weight of my large hiking backpack, stuffed for a week in the Dominican Republic. Our group of high school missionaries had been delayed in the security line, and I had urged everyone to hurry to the gate without me. My heart raced wildly as I heard the last call for our flight and sprinted through the terminal and up the escalator. Finally buckled in—exhausted and relieved—I was flooded with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios. What if I had missed my flight and the connecting one? It would be humiliating to fail these girls, their parents, and the teachers who had entrusted them to my care. But I was most afraid of disappointing Jesus, the One Whom I was striving to love and serve. None of my fears were realized that week, and it would take time to understand what Jesus was trying to teach me. In fact, it took years of a breathless, dogged sprint through marriage, motherhood, and ministry before I could begin to unpack and relinquish the heavy load I was carrying. I was working hard for Jesus and the people I loved, but I was tired, lonely, and struggling with discouragement. “Come to Me,” Jesus spoke tenderly to me through the years, “not so I can evaluate your work, or give you more to do, but so I can relieve you of your burden of self-reliance, your need to earn My love and prove your worth.” Slowly, my identity has shifted from worker and orphan, to friend and beloved. As I respond to Jesus’ invitation to come to Him through daily prayer, the Sacraments, and His Word, I receive the rest—a deep peace and refreshment—that He promises. Dear sister in Christ, I know that I am not the only one who has labored under a heavy load, who finds it difficult to ask for help, and is motivated by fear. Today, take time in prayer to slow down, catch your breath, unstrap your backpack, and ask Jesus to teach you His way of love. May we receive, even amidst our labors and the burdens of each day, the sweetness and lightness of a life united to Christ.

From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” // John 6:66-69 Many years ago, after almost a year of seeking, my search for truth culminated in a dramatic encounter with Jesus. My heart and mind resounded with an all-out yes, a forsaking-it-all response to the invitation to follow Him. It was glorious; I was filled with the Spirit and new life, and I walked in freedom and joy. It was also extremely difficult; my Jewish family was horrified (to say the least), my friends left me, and my future plans were upended. Through it all, with God’s grace, I was able to say to Jesus: “I will never leave You. You have the words of eternal life.” Seven years later, as a dedicated disciple stirred by a desire for more, I began to investigate the claims of the Catholic Church. I discovered magnificent treasures, but the hard teachings of the Church (in particular the Eucharist) also confounded my human understanding and challenged my will. Despite doubts, and some fear and trepidation, with God’s grace as I entered the Church, I sincerely professed, “Jesus, I will never leave You. You have the words of eternal life.” For almost forty years, my life has been marked by the triumphs and joys, suffering and trials of marriage, family life, ministry, and the daily call to take up my cross and follow Jesus. Although the world is changing with alarming speed and the Church is undergoing testing and purification, I can still proclaim, “Jesus, I will never leave You. You have the words of eternal life.” Sister, despite discouragement, doubt, or weariness, in joy and sorrow, please join me in proclaiming with renewed clarity and conviction, “Jesus, we will never leave You. You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that You are the Holy One of God.” Where else would we go? Listen to Today's Devotion

Soon a woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit heard about him. She came and fell at his feet. The woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth, and she begged him to drive the demon out of her daughter. // Mark 7:25-26 Growing up in a Jewish home, I’ve always loved the Yiddish word chutzpah (rhymes with "foot spa") and admired those who exhibited this quality. Chutzpah is defined as nerve, audacity, boldness, and incredible guts. It is the willingness to take risks, even if it shocks or surprises others. Perhaps that is why I appreciate the account of Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman in today’s Gospel—a description of chutzpah at its finest! Scene One: Jesus is resting in a house in the Gentile district of Tyre. He doesn’t want to draw attention to Himself or His ministry, but His reputation proceeds Him. Scene Two: A Gentile woman with a tormented, possessed daughter is desperate for help. She doesn’t care that Jesus is unavailable. She finds Him and begs at His feet. Scene Three: What ensues is an honest, uncomfortable conversation between the Jewish Messiah and a desperate Gentile woman. Jesus argues that His mission is first to the Jews. Undeterred and un-phased by Jesus’ apparent resistance, she surprisingly counters with great insight. Will Jesus relent? Will this woman back down? Will the tormented Gentile girl be granted a crumb of healing? Scene Four: The woman with chutzpah models bold faith. Despite obstacles and setbacks, she doesn’t give in to discouragement. What sounds like rejection, she turns into an invitation for perseverance. She knows she doesn’t have a rightful place at the table, yet she asks: “Jesus, give me what I don’t deserve on the basis of Your goodness—and I need it now!” Her remarkable faith draws from Jesus the healing power she seeks. Closing Scene: Jesus loves bold faith, and He is always looking to evoke deeper faith in us. Do we have the chutzpah to seek out the Lord, even when He seems silent and a situation impossible? Do we trust Jesus’ heart enough to engage Him in honest, even uncomfortable conversation? Sister, may we be filled like this woman with holy chutzpah and the unrelenting faith, boldness, and audacity necessary to bring our needs to the One Who loves to save.

Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for battle, my fingers for war. My mercy and my fortress, my stronghold, my deliverer, My shield, in whom I trust, who subdues my people under me. // Psalm 144:1-2 Last winter in preparation for a men’s retreat, my husband brought home a very large sword sheathed in leather with a shoulder strap. Unsheathed, it is shiny and quite heavy, and I can only imagine the strength and agility it would take to use it effectively in a real battle. A few weeks ago, that sword accompanied me to the week-long summer camp I lead for junior-high girls. As I spoke to almost 300 young women, the sword was beside me, a vivid reminder of a reality we often fail to see as we go about our daily lives. There is a spiritual battle raging for the hearts and minds and the eternal souls of every human. We have an enemy who will not rest until we are separated from our Heavenly Father and our destiny as His beloved children. To be reminded of this battle when life is hard is important, but it's not enough. We need to be battle-ready each day, to learn how to engage in spiritual combat for ourselves, and for those we love. Throughout the week at camp, we wielded the Sword of the Spirit as we read, proclaimed, and rooted ourselves in what God’s unshakable Truth tells us about Who He is and who we are. We encountered His personal Love in Adoration, and we fortified ourselves, feasting on the true Manna from Heaven. As sisters in Christ, we sat face-to-face, loving, encouraging, and championing one another. As warriors in Christ, we stood shoulder-to-shoulder in prayer, renouncing the lies of the enemy and proclaiming God’s truth. In a week’s time, a battle for souls was fought, captives were set free, enemy territory was taken, and there was great joy. We remain determined to fight for ourselves and one another with confidence and courage in a world that so desperately needs to know that the darkness cannot and will not overcome the Light. Daughters of the King, by virtue of your identity, you are called to this daily battle! Ask the Lord to train and equip you to fight with His weapons of war. Pick up the sword of His Word each day and wield His truth with authority. Be not discouraged or afraid for the battle belongs to the Lord! [bctt tweet="Be not discouraged or afraid for the battle belongs to the Lord! // Debra Herbeck " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. // Hebrews 12:1-4 “Who wants to run and who wants to talk?” I asked my ministry team as we planned our new Be Love Revolution summer clubs for the high school girls. Weekly, the Running Club runs through town and finishes at the local parish for noon Mass. The Conversation Club gathers at a local coffee shop to talk about life with Jesus, before meeting the runners at Mass. Guess which club I lead? My spirit is so willing; I want to run, to glide effortlessly alongside my young sisters in Christ while I expound on the countless analogies between running and the spiritual life. But alas, my flesh (in particular my back) is weak. Instead, I sit surrounded by eager young disciples sipping iced lattes. To my delight, both the runners and the talkers are learning so much about what it means to persevere in running the race that lies before us. For instance, today as the runners pass by the window of the coffee shop, we wave and cheer them on, inspired by this cloud of witnesses who are making physical sacrifices on a hot summer morning not just to stay fit, but more importantly, to embrace sisterhood and community. The one and only rule of the Running Club is that no one runs alone—either ahead of the pack or left behind. In our race toward Heaven, we need one another’s encouragement and presence as we traverse the hills and valleys of this marathon. As for the Conversation Clubbers, we show up, week in and week out. Together, we persevere in faith. Together we identify and fight the temptations of discouragement, unbelief, and weariness. We share our burdens and confess the weaknesses that hinder our race. Both the runners and talkers are helping each other keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith, Who has gone before us as the Way, the Truth, and the Life to lead us Home. Sister, are you talking the talk and running the race? We are all runners, engaged in the most epic race with the most glorious prize. Who are your running buddies? Who calls you on to persevere, to fight, to win? And above all, are your eyes fixed firmly on Jesus, the Victorious One? [bctt tweet="Keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. // Debra Herbeck" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered them, “I told you and you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify to me. But you do not believe, because you are not among my sheep. My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish." // John 10:24-28 Many years ago as a college seminarian, my husband Peter and three classmates gathered for the weekend at his family’s cabin to seek the Lord. They prayed, listened, and talked, but nothing seemed to be happening. In their last few hours together, they stood in a circle, praying quietly and piously with eyes closed and folded hands. In Peter’s words: “Suddenly I heard a loud thump, and opening my eyes I saw Jim on his knees with his face and hands lifted to the heavens. Jim yelled out, ‘God, we are just a bunch of dumb sheep down here, bumping into each other. We don’t know what we’re doing. Oh c’mon, God, we desperately need your help!’ Within a few minutes, God responded to that radical heart cry, and His tangible presence and power filled the room. Jesus revealed His personal love and mercy to us ‘dumb sheep’ and that deep encounter, stirred by simple faith and desperate need, set the course for our lives, vocations, and ministries.” Jesus loves when we act like His sheep—listening, following, and crying out to Him in humble dependency. And yet, we can often be like those cynics and doubters in today’s Gospel who repeatedly asked Jesus: “How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Perhaps like me, you’ve had similar nagging thoughts: How do I really know You love me, that You will keep Your promises? Can I really trust You? Just tell me plainly, and I will believe! Sister, join me in being sheep who know our Shepherd’s voice and follow Him unconditionally. Let’s stop looking for, asking, and seeking proof of His love. It doesn’t mean we can never question or doubt—believing is not easy—but it means that we are no longer trying to understand Jesus on our own terms. A priest once told me when I confessed doubts that Jesus does not rebuke the struggle to believe but rather the lack of effort when we stop believing. I want to be a sheep who deeply and fundamentally believes that my Shepherd is truly good. Each time we gaze at the crucifix, receive Him in the Eucharist, spend time in Adoration, and cry out to Him for help, faith gives us the blessed assurance that the One Who hung on the Cross has not left us hanging in suspense. He has definitively shown us that He loves us, He gives us eternal life, and we shall never perish. [bctt tweet="Follow Him unconditionally. // Debra Herbeck" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose hope is the LORD. // Jeremiah 17:7 Recently a teenage girl asked me, “Debbie, why do you think Jesus loves the poor so much?” Flashback seventeen years. As I stepped off our mission team bus into the overwhelming sights and smells of rotting garbage, I naively thought we were there to help the poor who worked and lived in the Mexico City dump. Yes, we brought them food and clothing, basic medical care, and shared Christ’s love. But throughout the years, as I returned often and got to know these people, I discovered a startling truth: we need the poor more than the poor need us! Why? Because my brothers and sisters in Christ who live in the garbage dump show me what it looks like to put your whole trust and hope in the Lord. It is not when your needs and wants are met in abundance, but when you literally have nothing—no possessions, money, power, or influence—and still you choose to believe that God is good and trustworthy. Through their undeniable, desperate reliance on God, my impoverished friends powerfully expose and break down the barriers of wealth, self-reliance, privilege, and pride in me that turn my heart away from the Lord. The forgotten poor, who by the world’s standards live in a filthy, barren, God-forsaken place, are like trees planted beside water. In their dire need, they stretch out their roots to the Source of Living Water. Even amidst the cycle of illness, violence, hunger, and oppression, they do not shrivel in fear or wither away. Instead, they bear the fruits of patient endurance—peace and joy, faith, hope and love—because their hearts are set on Christ alone. While I grasp for the fading treasures of this world, they cling to the real Treasure, and the promise that the comfort and consolation denied them in this earthly life will one day be theirs in Heaven. Only radical trust in God can transform a garbage dump into a beautiful grove of trees, fragrant with the aroma of Love. Saint Mother Teresa once remarked, "Only in heaven will we see how much we owe to the poor for helping us to love God better because of them” (source). Who are the poor in your midst and what can they teach you about how to love God better? [bctt tweet="Bear the fruits of patient endurance. // Debra Herbeck " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Fear not, you shall not be put to shame; you need not blush, for you shall not be disgraced.” // Isaiah 54:4 For many years, I carried deep shame from my youth. Intellectually, I knew the truth of God’s mercy, I believed it and proclaimed it for others, but I could not fully receive it for myself. Five years ago, I was preparing a talk for a senior retreat at our local high school. After thirty-five years of youth ministry, I had my talking points down. However, an hour before I spoke, I clearly sensed God saying: “I want you to tell them specifically about your sinful, broken past. I want them to understand that nothing they have done can ever keep Me from loving them.” I balked at the thought of sharing my past with these students. Would they still respect me, think me a hypocrite? Would they see me as I often viewed myself—broken, unlovable, and unforgivable? My love for these students and my desire to obey Jesus helped me overcome my fears and disgrace. I revealed what I had hidden for almost forty years and thought to be my “unforgivable sin.” Choking out the words, I forced myself to look directly at each of the young women I had mentored. In their expressions, I saw only compassion and love. As I finished my talk, the entire room stood in unison and applauded, and many students lined up to personally thank and hug me. That night, as the Jubilee Year of Mercy ended, I walked out of my prison of shame with a profound sense of God’s personal redemption. I was finally able to see that sin nailed to the Cross, and the shame of my past no longer defined me. Isaiah’s prophetic promises in today’s readings offer great hope to all who walk in darkness and live under the burden of shame. Our Creator and Maker now calls Himself Husband and He draws near to each of us with intimate love and tender care. Today, He invites you to step out of the places of hiding where you have felt lost, ashamed, and forsaken. Lift your head and raise a glad cry because Jesus, the Promised One of Israel, has come to rescue and restore you, to free you from the chains of sin and shame, and to establish a covenant of lasting peace with you. Join me today. Step into freedom. It is never too late. [bctt tweet="Step into freedom. // Debra Herbeck" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion