Today we are talking about THE WAY. Christ says: "I am the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE. No one comes to the Father except through me." How is your relationship with Christ? You can find all the themes here. Welcome to the #BISsisterhood link-up. Every Thursday, we get together as one community to share our hearts. Here's how you can participate: Link-up a post that goes with the weekly theme. Share your thoughts of the theme on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook using #BISsisterhood so we can see each other's posts. Comment below with your thoughts on the prompt. Basically, let's talk to each other. Remember to use #BISsisterhood so we can all communicate well with each other out in the social media world. [bctt tweet="The #BISsisterhood link-up is where it's at. I just added my post here:"] Here is the button to our link-up that you are more than welcome to place on your blog, share on your social media, and/or save for a rainy day. An InLinkz Link-up

You are standing at a fork in the road with two possible paths. One way leads to paradise, the other to devastation. As you are, you cannot know which path leads to which outcome. Once you begin on a path, you cannot turn around. Two identical guards stand at the fork. These guards have an indistinguishable but distinct difference: one is perpetually honest while the other is eternally deceitful. They both know which path is which, but you are only permitted to ask one guard one question. What do you ask? This classic riddle has startling spiritual implications. Like the disciples in the Last Supper Discourse of the Gospel of John, desperately wanting security before Jesus’ death, in moments of intense doubt I too question the Lord. I do not feel secure enough in Him to stake my life on Him. I hide my doubt with pleading. I beg Him to show me something, do something, prove something, so I’ll have faith to do His will. In His infinite wisdom, Jesus offers something better. Instead of a sign, He gently reminds me who He is. As He told doubting Thomas and the doubters in all of us today, He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). The fictitious TV character Dr. House frequently reminded his underlings that everybody lies. How spot on. As a nurse, I am told lies all the time, and that is not even the worst of human nature I see. I witness abuse, violence, apathy, manipulation, and heartlessness regularly. Trust is extremely difficult for me. I subconsciously question everyone’s intentions and honesty. The Lord is no exception. I question Him the most, Him whom I ought to trust the most. But the Lord has shown me that He is not everybody. The Lord is not human. He is God. He is not honest in one moment then deceitful in the next. He is not compassionate at one moment then callous in another. He is not benevolent in one moment then malicious in another. Jesus has a consistency unlike any human person. He consistently loves us and wills our good. He alone is worthy of total trust. As Jesus told His beloved disciples at the Last Supper, He would not have promised them something that was not true. He is like the perpetually honest guard of the riddle. He will lead us to paradise. Yet, unlike the riddle, our path is never sealed after one choice. Jesus allows us to continually change our ways toward Him or away from Him, towards paradise or devastation. How will we recognize Him? The answer to the riddle is this: ask either guard what gate the other says leads to paradise. The honest guard will answer truthfully with the deceitful guard’s lie. The deceitful guard will lie and say his gate is the way. For both, the opposite action of the guards’ answers will lead to paradise. Like the honest guard, Jesus will always answer us truthfully. His path leads us to paradise, home in heaven and peace here on earth. In His own way, by His own truth, through His own earthly life, He reveals Himself to each one of us. Marissa is a registered nurse in her mid-twenties who works in a busy Emergency Department in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She is a cradle Catholic who marvels at how the Good Lord has been cradling her throughout her life.

Today's free weekly wallpaper features a verse from today's second reading, Hebrews 4:16, So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help What poetry that is! To receive mercy and find grace for timely help! Each time that I read it, I am equally surprised by it's beautiful reminder. But first we must approach the throne of grace confidently. Trusting that we will receive the desired help! You can download it for free for your phone and desktop below. We also made it into a special version for print that you can buy in our shop! Designed by Erica of Be A Heart. Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Today we are talking about GOD'S TIMING. Our ideas about when and how things should take place don't always coincide with God's ideas. When has this occurred in your life and what do you think He was trying to reveal to you in the process? You can find all the themes here. Welcome to the #BISsisterhood link-up. Every Thursday, we get together as one community to share our hearts. Here's how you can participate: Link-up a post that goes with the weekly theme. Share your thoughts of the theme on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook using #BISsisterhood so we can see each other's posts. Comment below with your thoughts on the prompt. Basically, let's talk to each other. Remember to use #BISsisterhood so we can all communicate well with each other out in the social media world. [bctt tweet="The #BISsisterhood link-up is where it's at. I just added my post here:"] Here is the button to our link-up that you are more than welcome to place on your blog, share on your social media, and/or save for a rainy day. photo by Sara Miller An InLinkz Link-up

When we first got married (3 years ago this past August), my husband, Matt, and I had been instructed in depth how to chart my fertility cycles and were prepared to follow the Creighton Model of Natural Family Planning to space our children. We were pro-life and never had a question of how we would plan our family, knowing we would be adherent to the teachings of the Church. Matt, who comes from a family of 12, had communicated to me, since before we were married, that he was truly looking forward to the prospect of being a father, sooner rather than later. Somehow, though, I was missing something. I knew I wanted a (big) family, but I was also afraid to mis-chart and get pregnant in my first year of marriage. Those charts which had seemed so clear before, weren't so clear after all. Why, when I had longed for a family and children, was I afraid? Because I had subtly bought into the idea that having kids right away was something shameful, that it showed a lack of “responsibility”, that a couple was foolish not to wait until they were financially stable/used to the idea of being married. I clung tightly to my idea of waiting. I had just been through one change, and I didn’t want to lose my identity yet, or fall into that category of newly-married couples who have a “honeymoon baby.” It sounded so embarrassing. We lived in an apartment. We didn’t make “enough” money. I liked having my coffee everyday. I didn’t want too much change too soon. I quickly realized that these weren’t reasons enough for waiting. Sure, we’d have to rely on God and trust in Him, but we were not destitute. And being afraid of losing my figure was NOT reason enough to delay life. One night, in front of our huge crucifix, I finally surrendered my fears and literally gave them up to God, embracing the possibility of having a baby. Two months after our wedding, we found out we were pregnant with our son, Alejandro. I never knew such joy and such deep worry for a life, which far surpassed any worry for my own. Pregnancy was a struggle in and of itself, with constantly changing hormones and a complete body transformation. I struggled with the pain. I struggled with the worry. I struggled with birth and the recovery afterward. I struggled with breastfeeding. But the fierce love that transforms a woman through motherhood far outweighed the struggle. I wouldn’t have traded my precious baby boy for ANYTHING. Then, 6 months after having him, while my body was beginning to regain composure postpartum, Matt and I both shared a mutual desire for more children. Were we crazy?? I had been so afraid of having another child immediately after the discomfort of pregnancy and the intense pain of childbirth. Yet, I wanted more. When Alejandro was 7 months old, we found out we were pregnant with his sister, Marielena. We were elated. I was also panic-stricken. I was still exclusively breastfeeding and had fought hard for it. I was so attached to Alejandro and he was such a young baby. Would I be able to do this? Would he get enough attention? Would Matt and I be judged? Why did that even matter? Again, we trusted. Again, we fought hard against sly comments (from complete strangers!) about how we should space our family. We were fighting against a whole culture that condemns us for wanting to be parents early and for wanting more than one child. We were prepared for the difficulties, but I realized as time went on, that I wasn’t as prepared for the rewards and the graces God would grant us as we were serving Him in our YES to life. God provided good jobs, miraculous healthcare (when insurance companies said I couldn’t qualify), and He worked within our hearts, growing them and expanding them with an unquenchable love and fire for our growing family. Now, Alejandro is two and Marielena is 10 months (they’re 15 months apart) and I can honestly say parenting is probably the hardest thing I have done in my life so far. But it also carries the most intense, heart-brimming joy. It has strengthened Matt’s and my bond to each other and caused us to work harder than ever on our relationship. Having two babies close in age has given me the amazing privilege of allowing God to mold me from the inside out – which has stretched me in incredible ways, yet brought the most joy I have ever experienced. I have witnessed my babies form a closeness that has both surprised and humbled me. Would I do it again? Yes, a million times over. And please, Lord God, if You see fit, bless us again and give us the opportunity to say YES with arms open and hearts ready to love all the children You desire to give us. Amen. photo by Corynne Olivia Bianca is a deeply Catholic mama to two sweet babies: Alejandro and Marielena, and a wife to my husband, Matt. I love attachment parenting, following the awesome teachings of our Catholic Faith, working out while baby-wearing, leading the Choir as Music Director at Church, and keeping my family healthy.

The first time I met the child of a friend, my heart yearned uncomfortably for a baby of my own. It was painful, and there were tears… but, it wasn’t our time yet. A few years later, when this realization escalated and became a daily conversation and discernment, it was beautiful, and there were indeed many more tears… but, it just wasn’t our time yet. And finally, when we felt called to conceive a child of our own, what a glorious feeling it was when we embraced that call. We encountered a new freedom we had never experienced before, but, painfully, and with so many more tears, our freedom and joy turned to the devastating loss of an early miscarriage just seven short weeks later…. It still wasn’t our time yet. I look at this synopsis of our three years of marriage and it’s painful to recall. How is it that I long so deeply for a child to call my own, but yet our time still has not come? It is easy to wallow in the grief and ask, why? What makes us different? Why is it that we lost our first child? What’s wrong with me? I. Just. Don’t. Get. It. Those questions will forever be on my lips, but one realization has been placed so assertively on my heart throughout it all: God’s timing is precarious – it is hazardous to our own plans; we usually don’t ever want it, and sometimes, it even feels unjustified and unfair. I ask, why, Lord? Why couldn’t I have it my way just this once? I’m not going to sugar-coat it. Sometimes God’s timing sucks. Yeah, I said it. God, that sucked! I was so ready to bring my child into this world, next April. I had imagined plans for her nursery. We had shared the exciting news with our family and close friends. I had consented to the fact that I could not drink beer for the next 40 weeks (oh yeah, that one was a huge sacrifice of love). My heart was changed. But then you took that away from me, and it sucked. And I feel like a roller coaster of emotions. Every. Single. Day. (Insert long deep sigh.) But, regardless of my ability to contrive the antidote to being a mess of emotions, or answer why we lost our first child, I am okay trusting Him on this one. Because the truth of Christ still remains: The cross surely was not fair to Mary’s plan for her son, but, she trusted that God’s plans were bigger, albeit more mysterious. What my empty womb cries out as an injustice, my sweet Lord cries back as a blessing. What is so lonely and so heartbreaking could destroy my heart if it weren’t for this reality: We are now and will always be parents. God did gift us with a child. He did answer my prayers and my longing heart. Regardless of the longevity of my sweet little one’s life, she did indeed gain life. And although losing my child still sucks and I have to bury her before I ever got to hold and kiss her, I will always know her and be known by her. And the incredible loneliness I feel without being able to bring her into this world is given peace by the knowledge that I will always be her mom and I will meet her someday. Because we chose to give her life, she will live in the gaze of our Lord for all eternity. That alone deserves my praise and gratitude – that my Father in heaven would be so kind to gift us with this life. Joyous. Precious. Vibrant. Beautiful. That plan doesn’t at all suck. To know that Our Father in heaven loves our unborn child as radically and unconditionally as He loves those who live 100 years on this earth changes everything. This is what brings my heart peace. This is what causes me to trust in God’s plan. If He can bring joy out of even the most devastating situations, He can take care of my weary little heart. I don’t know what our future holds for our journey of parenthood. I pray that the Lord surprises us with so much good. But, I’m not holding my breath for my “perfect” plan to be conspired, for there is so much anxiety when we try to do it our own way. And I don’t want any part of that. To the couples: who have so many kids random strangers feel the need to remind them (rather rudely) that contraception exists, who are due to have their second and have no idea how they will be able to handle two under two, who find themselves pregnant with their first (or second… or third…) and only receive negativity from their in-laws, who are judged because they don’t have any children but secretly have been struggling with infertility, who have suffered multiple miscarriages and are criticized for continuing to try for their own, who desire so much to adopt, but just cannot afford the cost of the paperwork, who have authentically discerned waiting but are constantly bombarded with the question: “Why aren’t you pregnant yet?” God has a plan. It may be precarious in comparison to your own. But, He’s got your weary little heart covered. I promise to pray for you and to love you. I pray that God gives you peace in even the most perilous of heartaches, and the most aggravating of frustrations. And, may Mary be at your side as you encounter the cross. May she teach you how to trust and have hope that God’s plans are bigger, more exciting, and more fulfilling than your (and my) own. God’s peace to you today and always, amen! A small note: We decided to name our daughter Sarah Grace. Although we don’t know for sure if our unborn child was a girl, there is a small part of me that believes she was. She is named Sarah because of God’s promise to Sarah and Abraham that although they experienced years of infertility, He still fulfilled the promise of new life. I pray God doesn’t make me wait as long as Sarah to conceive again and bring a healthy baby into this world, but I do believe His promises are true. And there is so much hope that our time will be soon. And she is named Grace because it is grace alone that gives me the strength to move forward. Sarah Grace will always be a reminder of God’s love, peace, and hope. And for that, I am forever grateful. Rachel Penate is a 20-something year old Wisconsin girl at heart who has a slight obsession with the band Switchfoot. She loves most: working for Life Teen, a hot cup of coffee, the smell of the ocean, running my little tooshie off, my dog Gus, handsome husband Robbie, and above all — my Lord. PS: If you or someone you know has suffered from infant loss and/or infertility, we recently started a Life After Loss Facebook Group. Feel free to message me (Jenna Guizar) if you'd like to be added to it.

Life is full of unknowns, of turns and curves and unexpected paths. Sometimes it's darker and sometimes it's lighter. It can be difficult to know which way to go, it can be difficult when we see no possibilities for a problem to be solved. And then we are reminded that all things are possible for God. Today's weekly wallpaper comes from Mark 10:27 - Jesus looked at them and said, "For human beings it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God." So when life looks like a big jumble, let's listen for the quiet whisper that says "all things are possible IN me." You can download this free wallpaper for your phone and desktop, designed by Erica of Be A Heart, below! Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Today we are talking about LIVING FAITH. Having faith is more than just an interior disposition of the heart. Faith is meant to be LIVED. How are you living it out today? You can find all the themes here. Welcome to the #BISsisterhood link-up. Every Thursday, we get together as one community to share our hearts. Here's how you can participate: Link-up a post that goes with the weekly theme. Share your thoughts of the theme on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook using #BISsisterhood so we can see each other's posts. Comment below with your thoughts on the prompt. Basically, let's talk to each other. Remember to use #BISsisterhood so we can all communicate well with each other out in the social media world. [bctt tweet="The #BISsisterhood link-up is where it's at. I just added my post here:"] Here is the button to our link-up that you are more than welcome to place on your blog, share on your social media, and/or save for a rainy day. An InLinkz Link-up

It is the ultimate paradox. A scandal, really. In Roman times, the cross was the greatest image of humiliation, of torture, of criminals, of death. It was bloody and horrifying and gruesome. I wonder how many people turned away from the scene of Christ on the cross, his side cut open by a spear and his body bruised and broken. I wonder how many people sensed that there was something different about this crucifixion. I wonder who recognized with the centurion at the foot of the cross, “Surely, this man was the son of God.” And I wonder how many felt that recognition or felt the call of Christ and still turned away. I, too, turn away from that call. The crosses we are called to take up daily are often frightening. We are given people to love, roles to fill, tasks to complete. Every cross calls us to death. We are asked to die to ourselves, to sacrifice our own needs and desires on the cross. Whether single or married, a parent or a sibling, whatever our place in life, we are called to many deaths, to a myriad of letting things go, to a daily releasing our own plans and desires. It often hurts. This fall, I will leave my three-month old daughter at home to return to work so that my little family can eat and pay rent. It feels like a death. There is death even in those smallest moments of our day like when I put the dishes in the dishwasher instead of subtly criticizing my husband for leaving them in the sink. We all have deaths like this—great and small—that we are walking through or that we see ahead on the horizon. The cross is suffering, yes. It is even agony at times. But do not fear. Do not shrink back. Here lies the paradox. Here is the glorious reality that is more than a nice-sounding idea. The cross is life. Your cross is your life—and not just life on this earth, but life eternal. Every cross we face is another part of our journey to sainthood. We are asked to pick up our cross and carry it as we struggle up the hill to glory. It is not always easy, and we need not be ashamed when it hurts. Christ stumbled and even fell under the weight of His cross. So, too, we may fall and fail but Christ carried His own cross so that He could then give us strength to carry our own. Christ’s cross led him to complete isolation, to a death we are never asked to die. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Our deaths are a small joining with His, but we can be confident that He will never forsake us. God’s good will for us is perfection, and every cross that we carry is chiseling us and fashioning us into the likeness of Christ. And our small deaths—even in all of their pain—lead to life, to life eternal in the presence of Him who is Life itself. So we take heart and pray with Christ in the garden, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” photo by Corynne Olivia Shannon Lacy is a wife to a theology student and the mother of their first daughter. She is a recent convert to the Catholic faith. Shannon's other blog posts at Blessed is She: Comparison: A Failure of the Imagination Remember Your Baptism

The parts I play in my head rarely look like the life I lead in my home. In my brain I serve my children quinoa and granola, knit the days away and tend to our small farm animals all while my children run in a field of wild flowers. My days are slow and quiet. I have plenty of time to light a candle, reflect, and praise God daily for the life I’ve been given. In reality, I feed my children boxed cereal, work as an elementary school teacher, and navigate the dirty and congested city of Mumbai, India on a daily basis. My days are loud and chaotic. The only quiet I find are the moments that I scrape away from my early morning sleep. I often pray, but I sometimes use that time to squeeze in a run. Rarely I can do both before six o’clock when my children wake up and the morning rush begins. In the life I lead in my head, I’ve embraced my Catholic Faith since childhood. I’ve accepted the Church’s teaching without doubt or question and my children and I parade down to our local parish every Sunday morning. My Catholic husband holds my hand and we look on in adoration at our three obedient children kneeling in the pew beside us. In actuality, my faith is messy. I’ve struggled with doubt and questions since adolescence trying on different Protestant churches and Bible studies until, ultimately, finding my way back to Catholicism. On Sundays, I take a quick rickshaw ride to the only Catholic Church in our predominantly Muslim neighborhood. My daughter and I are the expats among a sea of Indians when we walk the lane down to the open-air church. The prayers sound different than the ones of my childhood. They take on a different cadence with the strong accents of the congregation and I find myself struggling to keep pace. My husband is not Catholic, and while my youngest daughter attends mass with me, the other two children only take part sporadically. Since winding my way back to the faith, I’ve struggled to embrace the idea that there are many ways to live an authentically Catholic life and very few of them involve granola, knitting and farm animals. It is only recently that I’ve accepted that I cannot wait to become holy until my life reflects the picture-perfect Catholic life in my head. I must seek holiness in the midst of my daily ordinary life. For me, it is the children I welcome to school every day, the colleagues I collaborate with, the lunches I pack, and the morning rush out the door. For others, it may be the diapers they change, the noses they wipe, and crumbs they sweep. Our challenge is not to determine the value of my Catholic faith based on these differences because we are all called to answer the same charge. We are to spend each day loving, praising, and thanking God for His love even when our lives follow his design instead of our own. Abigail Kasky juggles the roles of wife, mama and teacher all across the globe. She's fueled by a steady stream of caffeine, Instagram, and HGTV.

                                Today's Mass readings challenge us to live in love and unity. It is also the special feast day of the beloved Saint Francis who exemplified both of these. Today, Erica of Be a Heart, gave us a beautiful reminder to sow love where there is hatred as Saint Francis prays, Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy; O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. This prayer can be such a guide for us in our relationships with our families, our friends, our coworkers, those in most need. Let us pray to be the light of love in this world so often shadowed in darkness. You can download the free weekly wallpaper for your phone and desktop below. You can also buy it in a printable 8x10 format in our shop! Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Today we are talking about WHOLENESS. “We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures. We are the sum of the Father’s love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son." ~St. John Paul II Sometimes it's easy to feel like a bunch of fragmented pieces, not worthy of any true integrity. But in Him, we find our wholeness. HE makes us whole. You can find all the themes here. We are happy to announce November's topics! November 5: CROWN OF CREATION November 12: REMEMBRANCE November 19: UNCONDITIONAL November 26: GIVE THANKS Welcome to the #BISsisterhood link-up. Every Thursday, we get together as one community to share our hearts. Here's how you can participate: Link-up a post that goes with the weekly theme. Share your thoughts of the theme on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook using #BISsisterhood so we can see each other's posts. Comment below with your thoughts on the prompt. Basically, let's talk to each other. Remember to use #BISsisterhood so we can all communicate well with each other out in the social media world. [bctt tweet="The #BISsisterhood link-up is where it's at. I just added my post here:"] Here is the button to our link-up that you are more than welcome to place on your blog, share on your social media, and/or save for a rainy day. An InLinkz Link-up

Imagine peering through a magnifying glass at a small object, a leaf or a flower. The impulse of the human condition is to look closely, ever more closely at this item of beauty. What are its fragments? How do its parts work? It's a heady thing, to have the perceived ability to understand the inner workings of something that looks from afar to be magical. But upon closer look, the simple thing – the leaf or flower – loses some of its magic. It no longer has the mystical whole with which to redeem itself. What you see are details, small and disparate, often confusing. The details may intrigue or repulse you, fascinate or disgust you; it all depends on where you are looking. The result of such magnification is that you can only see one part of the leaf, of the flower. No longer do you see the magic of the whole, but rather an incomplete network of parts. The frame of your lens blocks out the beauty, the fragility, the singularity. The closer you get, the less you actually understand. You were desperate to see its inner workings, and yet now all the interest has gone out of it and you say to yourself, “What is this leaf but a collection of dried up veins? What is this flower but a broken and withering stamen?” We do the same thing with people. Social media gives us the ability to share pieces and parts of ourselves with a wide group of people. The way we dress, the company we keep, the causes we champion, these things focus the lens upon a certain aspect of our nature. Posting something on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter is like handing someone a magnifying glass and saying, “Look here at this important part of me. What do you make of it?” Sometimes what you share might be funny or silly, other times a deeply-held value or belief. But it is still only a piece of you, a thread. A thread which, when put together with all your other wonderful and not-so-wonderful parts, weaves a tapestry of you. A strikingly colorful, remarkably unique, irreplaceable you. We are not the sum total of our social media posts, of our wardrobes, of hours worked, of paychecks deposited, of meals cooked, of diapers changed, of blogs posted. We are more. We are flowers unfolding, tapestries on the loom, halfway woven. Someone could pluck out a thread and say, “LOOK! Look how ugly this piece is. It’s tattered and weak, unsightly and worn. You aren’t a tapestry, you’re a rug destined for the trash heap.” But this is a lie. God our Creator tells us it isn’t true; He is still weaving and has the choicest silks to offer. Now, if that is true for you, it must be true for everyone else, too, right? Think about the person, the other, that in our myopic vision, we so easily dismiss. I’ve taken up the practice lately of looking at friends and strangers (especially those with whom I have very little in common) and praying this prayer. “This person is a tapestry woven by your hands, Divine Weaver. He is irreplaceable. God, you love him with a ferocity I can only imagine. Let me ignore the threads and see only the tapestry.” It is a simple prayer, but a powerful one. It reminds me in the moment to lay down the magnifying glass, to step back from the loom. It's an invitation to open my eyes and see the glory of creation rather than the minutiae. "And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good." Genesis 1:31 Micaela is a wife, mother, teacher, and blogger. She writes from Southern California, where she does it all with as much love (and coffee) as she can muster.

It has been such a special time for the Church as Pope Francis visits the United States. In honor of this visit, we are doing a special edition wallpaper this week that does not match with today's readings. It is visible to all people the joy that this Holy man brings with him. In his homily for the canonization of Saint Junípero Serra on September 23, 2015 at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception he says, Rejoice in the Lord always! I say it again, rejoice! These are striking words, words which impact our lives. Paul tells us to rejoice; he practically orders us to rejoice. This command resonates with the desire we all have for a fulfilling life, a meaningful life, a joyful life. It is as if Paul could hear what each one of us is thinking in his or her heart and to voice what we are feeling, what we are experiencing. Something deep within us invites us to rejoice and tells us not to settle for placebos which simply keep us comfortable. At the same time, though, we all know the struggles of everyday life. So much seems to stand in the way of this invitation to rejoice. Our daily routine can often lead us to a kind of glum apathy which gradually becomes a habit, with a fatal consequence: our hearts grow numb. We don’t want apathy to guide our lives… or do we? We don’t want the force of habit to rule our life… or do we? So we ought to ask ourselves: What can we do to keep our heart from growing numb, becoming anesthetized? How do we make the joy of the Gospel increase and take deeper root in our lives? Jesus gives the answer. He said to his disciples then and he says it to us now: Go forth! Proclaim! The joy of the Gospel is something to be experienced, something to be known and lived only through giving it away, through giving ourselves away. The whole homily is absolutely amazing so you can read the full thing here. But we are very struck by this call to rejoice. There is a special call as Christians to rejoice in the Lord, despite the struggles of everyday living. As a reminder this week, download our free wallpaper for your phone and desktop below with Philippians 4:4. It was designed by Erica of Be a Heart. You can also head to our shop to purchase the downloadable 8x10 print to support the Blessed Is She ministry. Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Today we are talking about CHANGED. How have you been changed? Do you allow God to change your heart for the better? You can find all the themes here. Welcome to the #BISsisterhood link-up. Every Thursday, we get together as one community to share our hearts. Here's how you can participate: Link-up a post that goes with the weekly theme. Share your thoughts of the theme on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook using #BISsisterhood so we can see each other's posts. Comment below with your thoughts on the prompt. Basically, let's talk to each other. Remember to use #BISsisterhood so we can all communicate well with each other out in the social media world. [bctt tweet="The #BISsisterhood link-up is where it's at. I just added my post here:"] Here is the button to our link-up that you are more than welcome to place on your blog, share on your social media, and/or save for a rainy day. An InLinkz Link-up

The nurse mutters, “It’s a boy!” while lifting up his body for me to see. He lets out a faint cry to express his displeasure in the matter. It was obvious he was probably the 50th baby delivered that day, as their enthusiasm towards his entrance into this world was lacking immensely. They took him away to wipe him off; the five feet between my son and I felt like a crater. What seemed like hours later, he was placed into my arms. He was swaddled up so tightly, looking like a giant potato rather than a baby. My head was spinning. He was serene, and looked deep into my eyes with his big, blue beauties. I swear my heart stopped beating. Not from happiness, but from panic. We lied there, staring into each other’s eyes, spellbound. I waited. I waited for my instincts to kick in. Or to have the moment where I would envelope the “eternal bond” that motherhood brings. But it didn’t kick in. In fact, it wasn’t until this little boy was a week old that I could comfortably refer to him as “my son.” You see, Baby Christopher’s entrance into this world was anything but conventional. On the day of his arrival, I was in the middle of my second semester of college, and just a mere two weeks past my 18th birthday. I had papers to write, places to see, and concerts to go to. Motherhood, at that point, presents itself as the ultimate evil: a detriment to my golden age. To be perfectly honest, I had never wanted to have children. I wanted a career. I wondered why any woman would waste their precious 20s changing diapers, and chasing screaming, vomiting kids. I thought, “We are the women of the 21st century… we are no longer baby-bearing machines.” I saw children as a disease and motherhood as a trap. Upon discovering I was pregnant, my whole world fell apart. And, although, I had nine months to get adjusted to the idea of his arrival, I was nowhere near ready on that warm February afternoon. In Matthew 16, it is written, “Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” This passage always bothered me, as I was never willing to deny myself for Christ... or for anyone else, for that matter. I had been sucked into the dangerous American way of thinking: my goal was to become as successful as possible, trampling on anyone who dared to get in my way. But I was quickly initiated into a new way of thinking, as motherhood consists of daily sacrifice and denial of self for the love of your child. Which, in turn, was God's way of drawing me closer to Him. Now, I have a handsome, jubilant 1 year old. Our schedules are hectic. Our lives are not perfect. The sacrifices are endless. However, in choosing to live for him instead of live for myself, I am rewarded with the joy of watching an incipient little boy discover the world. Motherhood shouldn’t be viewed as an endless, life-sucking chore that inhibits us from our hopes and dreams, as it so often is portrayed today. Motherhood shouldn’t heed our abilities to do any of this. In fact, motherhood should only make it more outstanding that we are ruthless doctors, lawyers, and CEOs. The daily self-sacrifices we make for our children only reflect back on us. It pushes all of our accomplishments from ordinary to extraordinary. Women weren’t created to be baby-making machines. We also weren’t created to spend our lives trapped in a cubical, sacrificing a family for a career. We were created to juggle the impossible, and triumph. [bctt tweet="We were created to juggle the impossible, and triumph."] Only we have the ability to give life to the next generation, all while bettering our own. In choosing life, I opened my eyes to the rewards of self-sacrifice, the beauty of my own life, and the endless possibilities it holds. Brittany is a student and mother studying at Ave Maria University in rural sunny Southwest FL. She is currently studying BioChemistry and hopes to go into Obstetrics.

  This weekly wallpaper was created by Meg of Meg Florkowski Creative. The verse comes from the gospel reading today, “Whoever receives a child such as this in my name, receives me…” Mark 9:30-37 You can download it for your phone or desktop for free below and you can also purchase this wallpaper that is made ready to print to fit an 8x10 frame over in our shop!   Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper