He brought them up into his house and provided a meal and with his household rejoiced at having come to faith in God. //Acts 16:34 When I was sixteen years old, I had an encounter with the Living God. At a conference far from home, surrounded by thousands of other teenagers, the Lord revealed Himself to me in a very intimate way. In that moment, in those days at that conference, my life was changed. I was never the same again. I was transformed by God, forever changed by the truth that the faith given to me by my parents was real. In that connection with the Lord, I understood this truth. In today’s First Reading, we witness God’s transforming power. The jail guard’s life was changed forever. Paul and Silas were worshiping the Lord when an earthquake shook the foundation of the jail, the doors were flung open, and the prisoners’ chains were broken. The jailer was terrified; he was so afraid of failing in his duties that he considered killing himself. Paul and Silas assured him they were still in the cell, and the guard realized the earthquake was from the Lord. “Sirs,” he asked them, “what must I do to be saved?” This encounter with the Living God is so transformative that the guard changed from a fear-filled man willing to harm himself to a believer who brought Paul and Silas to his home to care for them. He cleaned their wounds and then invited them to dine with his family to celebrate being saved. What a celebration: the knowledge of Our Savior! Each one of us understands this goodness, this healing power. We, too, have been touched by God’s power; we, too, celebrate the goodness of a Living God Whose love and freedom has changed our lives. How will you celebrate today?

We set sail from Troas, making a straight run for Samothrace, and on the next day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, a leading city in that district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. On the sabbath we went outside the city gate where we thought there would be a place of prayer. // Acts 16:11-13 I was born on a September Sunday in the humid heat of the Carolinas. A year later, we moved to northern Italy, where I subsisted on homemade pasta and the affections of toddler-loving Italians. At age four, we crossed the ocean again to land in the magical woods of West Point, where cadets marched and my imagination took flight amidst gray granite and centuries of tradition. A vibrant faith community embraced us, and the Holy Spirit awakened my soul to Divine Love by the warmth of candlelit Masses. We moved away once more, but my soul was called back; by college I’d returned and was a cadet myself. Many nights I’d sit in front of the monstrance by that same candlelight—hazy with the fragrance of incense—as His love flooded my heart and steered the ship of my soul in the direction of sanctification and mission. Like Saint Paul, my life’s journey has been marked by adventure and hardship. In hindsight, I see how God, the Ultimate Guide, infused every detail with His purpose—for my own sanctification, others’ good, and His glory. Throughout my journey, God has cultivated in me both desire and strength for all He has called me to: vocation as a wife and mother, military leadership and spiritual mentorship, love of language and writing, physical suffering with redemptive grace. Like Saint Paul, my journey is not just a travel log; it’s a testimony. The same is true for you. Consider your own pilgrimage through life and the encounters that have formed you. None, however joyful or painful, have been absent of God’s presence or providence. Whether God has been your guide from the beginning or you’ve recently met Him on the journey, the moment you invite Him to take the lead, He can and will redeem every last detail. Like Saint Paul, your history of formation is also your path to evangelization. With the Lord as your guide, your journey can make you a Saint and help others to become Saints. Today, pause to look back and give Him permission to infuse every detail of your life—past, present, and those to come—with sanctifying purpose and redemptive grace.

“I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” // John 14:18 It was the first morning in my new apartment, which happened to be thousands of miles away from where I called home. The quiet was consuming, and my emotions were confusing. I laid on my back on the floor of my unfurnished living room with my legs straight out in front of me and my arms outstretched to the side. Sighing deeply, I said aloud, “Jesus, I just want You to know that I’m not lonely, but I’m very aware that I am alone.” And I was. After living with family, and then with friends, for most of my life, this move had been a huge leap of faith. I was away from everything that was familiar to me, including my church. After taking time to acknowledge and honor my feelings, I peeled myself from the floor, walked out the door, and went to Mass. There’s always an awkwardness when going to a new church. Where do I park? Which door should I use? Where’s the tabernacle? Where should I sit? But this time, the awkwardness was exacerbated by the perception of parishioners staring at me as I made my way down the side aisle to find a seat. I was feeling uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but God’s house is my house too, so I kept walking until I found a place. After Mass, I stayed a little longer and thought that I was the only one left, but as I was gathering my belongings, a sweet family, who was sitting behind me, stopped to introduce themselves. After chatting for a bit, the woman asked, “Can I share something with you?” “Of course!” I said. She responded, “I don’t know if this makes sense to you, and you are welcome to take it or leave it, but I feel like God wants you to know that you’re not alone.” She went on to share words that echoed my morning prayer perfectly! I thanked her and finally asked them their names. “Mary and Joseph.” Of course! They invited me over for dinner that night, and I thanked God because I was neither lonely nor alone. We believe that Jesus’ promise is sure. If you are feeling lonely or alone, continue to turn to Jesus and speak honestly about your feelings. Invite Him into friendship with you and ask for His presence in the form of a good person in close proximity.

“But because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” // John 15:19 It was 2008, and I was working as a hostess at a restaurant called “California Pizza Kitchen.” At the time, I wore a purity ring as a physical sign of my commitment to a chaste life as a single woman. One evening during a slow shift, a co-worker asked, “What is that ring about?” When I explained to him the meaning, he laughed and responded, “That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.” If you have been following Jesus with fervor for any amount of time, you know great ridicule can accompany this choice—some minor, some major. Following Christ today can certainly come along with being mocked, ostracized, or shamed. He told us this would be so. Jesus addresses the disciples very pointedly in today’s Gospel, and most of these men went on to be persecuted to the point of gruesome death for the cause of Christ. How deeply convicting it is to reflect on all who have gone before us who endured far more than being shamed—they endured torture, imprisonment, and death. I wonder how often the disciples recalled His words: “But because . . . I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you” (John 15:19). I do wonder if, as they were persecuted, they recalled a look of compassion on Christ’s face when He spoke these words. Only He knew what they would endure for Him once Pentecost had come and gone. It is all the more moving to sit with the reality that the level of persecution the disciples faced is happening today. There are followers of Jesus being tortured and killed. What sacred opportunities we have in the moments when we are mocked for our faith in these small ways—in our workplaces, classrooms, families, and communities—to remember those persecuted to the point of martyrdom today. We are given opportunities to cry out to God for our brothers and sisters in Christ that they would find deep, lasting hope that eternity spent beholding Him Who is seated on the throne will be more than worth it all.

"This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends.” // John 15:12-13 Why is it so hard to love one another? In today’s Gospel, God calls us to love one another as He loves us. How do I do that, God? How do I love someone who has intentionally wounded me? I look to Your example and see such an incredible love for those who mocked You, spat upon You, despised and envied You, whipped and beat You, and hung You on a cross to die. You were praying for them on the Cross just the same as for the ones who followed and adored you. Your zeal for every soul you create is beyond what I believe my human heart can hold. Oh, to have a heart so open to love that Your love increases even when I walk away from You! To have a heart that never hardens or builds up walls! Your heart does not hate; it only loves. Your heart does not envy; it celebrates individual giftedness generously. Your heart does not see our sin as our identity; it only sees our sin as a way home through Your mercy and forgiveness. Your heart does not hold anger against a repentant sinner, but offers peace, mercy, and compassion. But your heart does know how to break, but it doesn’t break the way mine does. My heart breaks, and I put up walls of self-protection. Your heart breaks, and You open it wider, so we have a new way to find ourselves in Your merciful arms. As I write this devotional, the bridge of Hosanna by the band Hillsong echoes in my mind and heart: Heal my heart and make it clean Open up my eyes to the things unseen Show me how to love like You have loved me Break my heart for what breaks yours Everything I am for Your Kingdom's cause As I walk from earth into eternity Hosanna, break my heart for what breaks Yours. This is how I will be able to love others. This is how I will learn to love as You love.

"I have told you this so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete." // John 15:11 As I stepped out of the car, I could see his joyful face bouncing up and down in the window. When I opened the back door to greet my second-grade son, he flew at me exclaiming, “Mom! I got all the work done you asked!” I hugged him and greeted his older sisters who told me how they had also accomplished their assignments. And the joy of that moment stayed with us the rest of the homeschool day. We have been trying a new thing this school year, now that my children are a little older. I slip away to a morning Mass once a week while my children do independent homeschool work. It is good for them to learn to be self-disciplined, and it is a mini-retreat for me to be at Mass alone. When my children do what I ask, our joy that day is full because every subject goes smoothly. But when they do not follow my directions while I am gone, the day continues on in a struggle. Being a parent has taught me many things about the Father’s love, and one of them is the joy of obedience. I have the same struggles as my children, always ready to find something to do besides my task at hand. But the Father’s commandment for me, the way I remain in His love, is to serve those before me, to do the work that He has called me to do. When I abuse my freedom and become a slave to my desires, I am not free at all. When I live out my day under His Will, I have the freedom to do good and to love better. Sister, the Lord does not give us His commands to be burdens in our lives, even though when we are struggling to overcome concupiscence they can seem that way. He gives them to us to guide us in the way of love. All He ultimately wants is for us to surrender to His love and to return it, and the path to do this is through obedience to His Will. This can be revealed to us in the commandments preserved by the Church or in the vocations to which we are called. When we live in His love, we will have His joy.

“I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.” // John 15:1-8 Beneath the warmth of the sun, my daughter smiles as she pulls ripe lemons from the tree. She takes her time, slowly reaching up and pulling with all her strength only the “best” lemons. Her tiny bare feet sink into the damp grass, and she giggles as lemons roll out of her bucket. Her brown curls stick to her forehead, and she wipes away the sweat with her hand. As I watch her, I am reminded how quickly I do most tasks. Without much thought. Seemingly always in a hurry. But what fruit comes from my hurry? I see her joy and that is what I desire. I desire to work with joy. I desire to slow down. To allow the Lord to bear fruit in the everyday moments of my life, and to recognize it as beautiful. Sister, sometimes I find myself rushing from task to task. Maybe you find yourself falling into this same habit? I would like to encourage you to slow down and breathe in the presence of the Holy Spirit. Slow down and recognize where Jesus is bearing fruit in your day. Remain with Him throughout every moment of your day by slowing down and being present. Be present to those around you and present to the task at hand, even if it feels mundane or insignificant. These are holy places, dear sister. Holy places where the Lord is bearing much fruit.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.” // John 14:27 I stood at the kitchen counter and breathed in deeply, trying to shut out the sounds of the family’s morning rush. I said a silent prayer asking for humility and direction to counteract my momentary frustration. “I am sorry I just barked at you. That was an overreaction. Please forgive me.” I looked into the eyes of my teenager and handed her a sandwich to cram into the baggie before stuffing it into the lunchbox that dangled from the crook in her arm. She looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude, a combination that she has mastered in her fourteen short years. After a quick kiss on the cheek and an off-handed, “Um-kay. Love you, mom,” she is out the door. I have tried to instruct my children that no one can steal their peace—it is something that they choose to surrender when they relinquish their self-control and respond rashly. And yet I fail to consistently model a peaceful heart. I want to cultivate a peaceful home for my family, and yet I recognize that my attempts to do so invite a worldly peace, rather than the peace of Christ. Turning off the background noise, keeping the home free of clutter, lighting scented candles, and having fresh flowers—these are wonderful practices, but they don’t necessarily invite the peace of Christ. The peace of Christ comes only when we have a personal relationship with Him. It is cultivated through prayer, not cute pillows for the couch. It is cultivated at the tabernacle, not at Target. It is peace that is cultivated interiorly, rather than externally. Prayer, Scripture, and the Sacraments are the path of peace. How can you invite peace into your heart and home today?

“Whoever loves me will keep my word.” // John 14:2 As I began to crawl back into the Faith, a huge burden was put on my heart, mind, and relationship with Jesus as I began to believe the lies of the enemy. I found myself questioning Jesus’ love for me. At some point I was convinced that His love for me was nonexistent. I closed the doors to receiving His love as I continued to deny the truth that He deeply desires every bit of me and my messy, little, and broken heart. In today's Gospel, we read, “Whoever loves me will keep my word” (John 14:23). As I still struggle from time to time, the Holy Spirit has begun to guide me to put aside what the enemy says and instead focus on what Jesus says about me. Sister, you are deeply and wholeheartedly, loved, seen, heard, desired, and known by the Creator. Friend, His Word is true. What He says about you is true. You can trust the One Who displayed His love for all, through His most excruciating Passion. He doesn’t require anything from you to receive His love. He’s not holding anything back from you. It’s not something we deserve, yet He gives it to us so freely. We can choose to accept the gift of Love or we can put it aside. Sister, I know how painful and violating the lies of the enemy are upon our hearts. I gently encourage you, at some point, to ask Jesus what He says about you and to begin to root yourselves in those Truths. Turn your focus upon the Love that you were created for. Have confidence in His Word. God, we love You and praise You. Help us to root ourselves in Your truth about our daughterhood. Help us to see ourselves as You see us. Amen.

Come to him, a living stone, rejected by human beings but chosen and precious in the sight of God, and, like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house[.] // 1 Peter 2:4-5 It was a somewhat impulsive acquisition, I admit: an unassuming shed my dad had built decades ago to store our plethora of excess camping equipment and other assorted family paraphernalia. Decades later, it landed in my hands as a lofty “DIY” project. It will be a painfully long time before I am able to reinvent it as something wonderful, but for now I simply delight in the fact that my dear dad and brothers sawed every board and hammered every nail. And I love it. Today’s Second Reading reminds us that when we have Christ as the cornerstone in our lives, then every offering, big or small, builds for us a spiritual home that is precious in the sight of God (see 1 Peter 2:4-9). Some days, we build well: We carve out time for quiet contemplation and time with the Lord. Our words are (mostly) patient and kind, and our actions are authentic and reveal the truth of what the Christian life ought to look like. Our spiritual home begins to grow and flourish. Other days, sister, we (spiritually) hammer our thumbs: We speak too quickly and too harshly. We let jealousy and resentment fester. We avoid Confession. Our spiritual homes become rotting, worn, and weary. The thing is, friend, we know that nothing this side of Heaven is built perfectly. It’s a truth my perfectionist heart is learning to accept. And yet, much like my aging shed, nothing is lost in the building either. When we cooperate in the Lord’s plan for our hearts, He redeems the hammered thumbs and hasty “fixes.” He properly tends to the leaky roof, and He shelters our hearts from intruding thoughts that steal our peace. When we place Him as our true cornerstone, our spiritual homes flourish. Take some moments today to rest with the idea of your spiritual home. What in it brings you joy, comfort, and peace? What needs (big or small) mending? Invite the Lord again to His fitting place in your heart and ask Him to attend to that which needs fixing.

Philip said to Jesus, "Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us." // John 14:8 For the last few months, every time I quiet my mind and heart and turn to Jesus in prayer, I’m eating. I had asked Jesus to show me the Father, and ever since, He’s been feeding me. Dates, figs, berries, sandwiches, Chinese food . . . it’s all delectable and delightful. This has a lot to do with how the Lord is claiming His Fatherhood in my life personally, but I think it holds something for us all. God is a Father of provision. He is concerned with our supernatural needs primarily, but He is also concerned with our natural needs. After all, He is the One Who created us with them. So when Jesus spoke to His disciples about the Father on Holy Thursday, He followed it up with a meal that would satisfy both their stomachs and their souls. So often we can assume that the Father is distant and disinterested. We relate to Jesus because He is Emmanuel, “God with us.” But this reality does not negate the Father’s interest and involvement in our lives; after all, the Father is the One Who sent the Son. And it is through the Son that we reach our ultimate resting place: the holy arms of the Father (see Responsorial Psalm). In my prayer and in this Gospel, the message is clear: God feeds us. Even more, He feeds us with Himself. The Holy Eucharist is the food offered to us in all seasons and in all our needs. Our physical hunger points to our spiritual hunger. And maybe you’re starving. Maybe it’s been a long time since you have gone to the Father’s house—since you have been to Mass. Maybe your life feels like a marathon, and you are in need of constant nourishment. Maybe you’ve been gorging on the scraps of sin and long to return to the true Feast. In all your hunger, look to the Father. How do you need to be fed today? Receive His mercy in Reconciliation and come to the Eucharistic feast, where all your needs are met.

How can we know the way? // John 14:5 Today is my wedding day. I’m thinking of the little girl who enthusiastically belted the classic “I Love You, Lord” at her First Communion Mass when she was eight years old, still a mix of nerves and excitement from receiving the Lord in the Eucharist for the very first time. I’m thinking of the teenager in youth group who listened intently to each and every dating talk, wondering how love could ever be possible for me when I held so much pain from my parent’s broken marriage. I’m thinking of the college student who discerned religious life because the thought of giving my heart to someone in marriage was just too risky, and I really, really wanted the Lord to call me to something less scary (praise the Lord for good and holy spiritual directors!) I’m thinking of the young adult who returned home from yet another exceptionally disappointing date and sarcastically told the Lord: “If you want me to get married, someone is going to have to FALL. OUT. OF. THE. SKY!!” And I’m thinking of the same girl who met her husband a few months later, shortly after he discerned out of the seminary where he’d been for the past six years (so, basically he fell out of the sky!). If you’re anything like me, or the Apostles in today’s Gospel, maybe the Lord has called you to something, and you have absolutely no idea how you’ll get there. It doesn’t seem feasible, and you’re discouraged by the lack of possibility in your life. Maybe you don’t even have the desire, but you know what He’s told you, and you desire to be faithful even though it’s scary. Dear sister, with everything in me, I want to remind you that Jesus is the way. He is preparing a place for you in His House and using His grace to get you there. The life He has planned for you on this earth is His love story to you, bringing you closer to His Heart every step of the way. I know this because today is my wedding day, and He has done the impossible. Today, there is no fear in love. Today, I can see the fruit of suffering that drew me deeper into relationship with Him. Today, I’m singing the same song I did one May so many years ago: I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship You. Oh, my soul, rejoice! Jesus is the way. Give your heart to Him today.

With uplifted arm he led them out, and for about forty years he put up with them in the desert. // Acts 13:17b-18 Teaching middle school is not something I would ever have chosen on my own. But obedience has put me in a middle-school classroom for the last ten years, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything! Though some call my sanity into question, I love teaching middle schoolers! Not only do I enjoy the opportunity to form young minds and hearts but, to be honest, middle school students are incredibly entertaining. I admit, though, sometimes my darling students try my patience. I find myself looking at them askance, asking, “What made you think that was a good idea?” or “Can someone please explain to me how a Peep ended up on top of the projector?” (true story), or “Why are you taking your shoes off in the soccer field?” At times, the Lord uses my students to show me myself. How many times have I gone my own way, done my own will, and walked away from Him? How often has sin separated me from His love? While I can imagine Him looking at me askance with what-were-you-thinking in His eyes, His voice only says, “I love you.” It didn’t matter how often the Israelites turned away from Him. The Lord never left them but continued working His plan among them. That is the Lord’s patience. He “puts up with us in the desert” (see Acts 13:18) of this life drawing us closer to His Promise in the same way He led the Chosen People to the land of their inheritance. We all have individuals, or groups, whom it seems God has given us just to help us grow in that great virtue of patience, whether it’s your children, students, family members, or co-workers. The next time you’re tempted to impatience, ask Our Lord to give you the grace not simply to put up with them, but to see them as He does and love them with His love, even when you want to ask, “What in the world were you thinking?” And sometimes, sister, the person you need to put up with most is yourself.

“I am the way and the truth and the life.” // John 14:6 Holding her friend’s hand, my kindergartner ran up to me at school pick-up. The two girls smiled confidently as my little girl handed me the map her friend had drawn. A purple “Start Here” dot was connected to a stick figure standing in front of a house by a thick line that curved and swirled across the page. “We are going to have a playdate,” she said. “Betty drew a map to her house so you can drive me there. Now.” I studied the many purple curves and turns and explained that I couldn’t read the map. The little girls looked at me scornfully, and my daughter replied, “Just use your phone then.” If only it were that easy. Don’t know how to get somewhere? Just use Google Maps. Don’t understand the written recipe? Watch a YouTube tutorial! Need relationship advice? Search for a podcast! If only all of life were that easy. We can take in information, but that doesn’t mean we have learned anything. To really know takes experience, living with or through or in something. For example, when I was a teen a woman shared her testimony and explained that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. It was exceptionally comforting to her, but it left me feeling a bit blank. Even though I was a believing cradle Catholic, I did not have an intimate or meaningful relationship with Jesus. Jesus as the Way was like the magic marker map drawn by five-year-old Betty. I had no idea how to make sense of it, and just taking in the fact was not enough. But through the next thirty years, with prayer, reading Scripture, studying my Faith, and reception of the Sacraments I have come to know the Lord. As a priest once said, “We are not following a path but a Person.” Because I know Him, I don’t need the map now. As long as I’m following the Way, I know where I’m going. How have you experienced and come to know the Lord? How is He the Way, Truth, and Life in your life?

“My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand.” // John 10:27-28 Rolling over in the middle of the night, I pat my husband on the arm, asking, “Theo’s coughing again, can you grab his inhaler?” Quietly sneaking into our boys’ room, my husband gives our four year old his inhaler and then gently whispers him to sleep. I can hear my husband’s murmurs from the next room. As I try to fall back to sleep, I hear the pitter-patter of my son Luca’s tiny footsteps as he escapes his bunk bed and runs to my room to take over my husband’s vacated spot in the bed. Hours later, I hear my daughter Emma hop down from her loft bed to tip-toe to the bathroom. In the morning, I hear our son Henry yawn and groan as he begins to wake up from his top bunk, knowing that shortly we’ll be greeted by demands for cereal. With only a small glow of a night light from the bathroom, a hallway between my room and the kids’ rooms, and white noise machines on full volume, I still know the different sounds each of my kids make. I know Emma’s sneeze from Henry’s. I know Theo’s walk from Luca’s. My husband and I know the mood of each other’s sighs. Sister, you know the sound of the voice on the other end of a call right when they pick up (back when we had landlines and no caller ID). You know the exact person who sent you a card in the mail even without a return address by their handwriting. You know your mom by her smell. You know your dad by his laugh. You know your children by their sneezes. You know your sister by her singing. You recognize your cherished ones by the little things. How beautiful is it to be known by our loved ones through all those moments shared together! How much greater does Our Father know you? He sees every bit of you. He intimately knows your heartbeat. He holds you in His hands and loves you. You are seen for who you are because of Whose you are. Do you know this today?

“I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.” // John 10:11 We stood on the empty dance floor and listened to the instructor count out the time: One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three. The dancer in me felt the rhythm inherently, and I waited patiently for my fiancé to catch the beat. We muddled through the waltz with frustration as I tried to move us back in sync and step. The instructor stopped mid-song. “There can only be one of you leading—one leading and the other following.” I waited for him to tell my fiancé that I should be the lead because I had such amazing natural rhythm, but he did just the opposite. To my humiliation, he instructed me to stop fighting my dance partner and to relax. I was trying so hard to stay on rhythm that I was fighting the dance. A dance is beautiful when it is done together. It is syncopated movement, rather than a battle for control. So too in the spiritual life. How deeply I desire for more syncopated movement with the Holy Spirit. But my pride and my desire for control sometimes destroy what could be a beautiful dance with the Lord. I need to simply relax and feel His arms around my waist, holding onto my hand, and tune out the beat of the world. He is truly Our Good Shepherd. We know His voice, and He knows ours. He is the leader of our flock, and it is up to us to choose to follow or instead to try to lead ourselves. What areas in your life are you tempted to control rather than surrender to the Lord? How can you offer those to the Good Shepherd? Listen to Today's Devotion

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles,"What are we to do, my brothers?” // Acts 2:37 I walked into the church and made my way into the pew, slightly flustered that I wasn’t exactly on time. I sat right in the front row because I didn’t want any distractions. I missed Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, which means I also missed getting to sing O Salutaris Hostia and Tantum Ergo. I sensed my disappointment holding me captive from entering in with a posture of receptivity. Kneeling before the Lord, I just buried my hands into my face. The yoke of everyday life had been too heavy for me to lift on my own. I looked at Him, and the tears just started rolling down like the kind of rain that rolls off a windshield, but still allows you to see while driving. “Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles, ‘What are we to do, my brothers?’" (Acts 2:37). All I did was allow Him to look at me, and it cut deep into my heart that the Lord waits for us so patiently in the Blessed Sacrament at Eucharistic Adoration. There in that moment, in front of Jesus, I felt so insignificant because of the intensity of the love that He offers to me. He doesn’t wait to guilt trip me when I drive by the Church on my way home after running errands, knowing I need to spend time with Him. During this time of National Eucharistic Revival, my attentiveness when the priest elevates the host has become a moment of wonder for me. As a cradle Catholic, there have been many moments in my journey of faith when the truths that I have always known have become reinvigorated. The beloved Pope Saint John Paul II said it best: “In that little Host is the solution to all the problems of the world” (source). Sister, what truths about the Catholic Church cut straight into your heart? Ask the Holy Spirit to breathe into that tender place of intimacy with Jesus and use that as a means of deepening your relationship with Him while evangelizing to those around you. Listen to Today's Devotion