Truthfully, I did not know much about the existence of the liturgical year until late high school/early college. Once I became aware of the rhythms of the Church year, the liturgical seasons took on new life for me. Seasons like Lent and Advent became seasons of deep prayer; the feast days of my favorite Saints taught me more about them; feasts of Our Lord inspired in me a deeper love for and devotion to His Body and Blood, His Kingship, and His Cross. When I began having children, celebrating the liturgical year became an even greater priority. I want their upbringing to be marked by the rhythms of the Church. But liturgical living is not my natural strong suit. Crafts are not my charism and my default all-or-nothing mentality caused me to feel overwhelmed by all the possibilities of the liturgical year and left me doing, well, nothing. Living Liturgically All Year Thankfully, my early motherhood fell during the "good ol' blogging days" and I was introduced to fellow Blessed is She writer Kendra Tierney. Her blog, Catholic All Year, became a trusted resource for all things liturgical living. Kendra is wealth of knowledge about the liturgical seasons, rites, and devotions within the Church. Plus, she's been living in this rhythm with her own family for nearly two decades, so she's been through plenty of practice and refinement. Her blog is what helped me dip my toe into living the liturgical year as a family. One-Stop Shop When Kendra released her book, The Catholic All Year Compendium, a couple of years ago, she made my life even easier. It quickly became a staple on my shelf and in my planning as a homemaker. Now, she has released a new companion to this book called The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion. And it is completely my cup of tea. The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion The Catholic All Year Compendium includes ideas for liturgical living like activities, crafts, and recipes. In that book, Kendra references certain prayers her family prays on those feast days, but you can imagine how long the book would have been if she included the full text of those prayers. That is where The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion comes in. This book includes prayers, Bible stories, songs, and devotions that Kendra and her family use during the liturgical year. Kendra also covers frequently-encountered challenges like a reluctant spouse or child, (un)realistic expectations, and finding the ideal moments of prayer for your family devotions. She also explains indulgences, novenas, and other devotions in a way that's easy to understand and embrace. How I Plan to Use It The format of this prayer companion is easy and straightforward. As someone who is easily overwhelmed by all the possibilities of liturgical living, this prayer companion is a balm and beacon of light! First, this book is the size of an average book, so it can fit easily into my purse (for on-the-go prayer), on our kitchen counter (for prayer after mealtimes), and on our school shelf (for morning devotions). This book will live in our main living area, always just an arm's length away and at the ready. I plan to start small in order to build momentum and encourage constancy. Sundays are typically my weekly planning days. I sit down with a cup of coffee, my Blessed is She planner, my homeschool plans, and any resources I need to get my hands around the week in a prayerful and intentional way. The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion is the newest member of the stack. I will look at the week ahead and select one feast day for that week. I'll jot it down in my planner and, again, will have this book close at hand for the chosen day. Hopefully, over time, we will add another day, and another and another until these prayers for the liturgical year are woven into the fabric of our days. Have you gotten your copy of The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion yet? What are you most excited about in it?   [bctt tweet="BIS Reads // The Catholic All Year Prayer Companion #BISblog //" via="no"]   This post contains affiliate links. Thank you so much for supporting the ministry of Blessed is She!

I’ve learned to see Grief like she’s my sister, learned to love, to be patient with her. I embrace Grief and she walks with me on blistered feet, sometimes hand-in-hand and sometimes at a distance and we choose the path of most resistance, Grief and me. We visit many war-torn streets and kick up the dirt under our feet and see every mountain turned molehill… so many backwards things for me and Grief to meet. Sometimes, Grief is like… An awkward houseguest – the morbid cousin you wish would bother someone else so you could get some rest. And sometimes Grief is a dear old friend you feel like you haven’t met in years, who warms your heart so much the thaw draws out tears. Sometimes Grief shouts things that polite company wouldn’t whisper. Like a child, you scold her then, but later find to kiss her for saying the words grown-ups were too afraid to utter. Sometimes Grief is like a prick of a needle or a pinch on the arm… And other times she’s a sucker punch to the gut or a dagger in the heart. Sometimes Grief is like a gentle wave lapping at my feet. and sometimes a tsunami, threatening to drown me – daring me to breathe. Sometimes she’s a memorial stone held and gently pondered. Other days she’s a boulder placed on my over-burdened shoulders. But I’m no Atlas – the weight of the world’s a few pounds much for me. So I chip off pebbles and lay them at Another’s feet. Shared Grief can be almost sweet. Sometimes, Grief is persistent, begging me to look deeply at my heart. To her, it’s an open book, and an intricate work of art. So when someone says “good Grief” and lets out a sigh, You tell them, “yes, it is” as you pass by. For to mourn the lost is good for us; to grieve the “should-have-beens” and the “never-was.” To let our hearts ache over unfulfilled desires, so they can be healed – purified – by Love’s refining fire.   [bctt tweet="Pebbles at Another’s Feet // A Poem on Grieving #BISblog //" via="no"]   Sister Mary Vianney is a professed member of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist in Ann Arbor, Michigan. You can find out more about the Dominican Sisters here.

He said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” // Mark 6:31 Love this from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

There are times in our lives when the devil has been particularly active. Whether it’s a flat tire on the way to an important event, the microphone not working in the middle of a passionate presentation, quarreling and tension arising in a family over a meaningful experience, or the presence of lies and doubts when about to make a critical decision, he works in many undercover ways. Undercover, but not completely unrecognizable. Being Alert I believe that it is important to recognize and acknowledge when the struggles in our life are the attacks of the evil one. That recognition lets us take steps toward battling against it. When we name our enemy, that helps us know how to fight against him. And the truth is, when the devil attacks us, he unwittingly shows some of his cards. You are the Lord's One of the most consoling truths I was ever told in regards to spiritual attack is this: Nobody goes after what they already have. When I’ve already won a game, I feel no need to fight about it. When I already have an A in a class, my desire for extra credit decreases. When I’ve already won someone over, I don’t need to work so hard to convince them all the time. The devil works the same way. He doesn’t go after what he already has. And that is why, in a roundabout way, there is actually consolation to be found when you are being spiritually attacked. The very fact that he is attacking you proves that he doesn’t already have you. The very fact that he is attacking you proves that he sees you as a threat. And that is a good thing! There is Consolation by God's Grace Being a holy woman of God terrifies the devil. When women live out their true identity as daughters of the Father, and convince others to do the same, there is opportunity to change the world. However, the devil does not want to see that change and will do his best to attack your identity itself. But take heart! If you were doing things that were bad, he would feel no need to get in the way. When you are being attacked, you can find comfort that that means what you are trying to do will build up the kingdom of God. Spiritual attack is never a coincidence. It comes exactly at those times when you are threatening the devil most. Don’t give in to his advances. Stay true to what you know to be right, knowing that a much stronger Savior is fighting for you.   [bctt tweet="Consolation During Spiritual Attack #BISblog //" via="no"]   Mary Grace “Gracie” Tillman is a full-time student and full-time extrovert. If you don’t find her with her friends, odds are she’s lost on a backroad with her music all the way up. She loves sports, writing, one-on-ones over coffee, and all things related to Divine Mercy. She strives to life live every day to the fullest and be a joyful disciple of Jesus.

I scrolled through Facebook until a Disney meme caught my eye. It was a picture of a Cruella de Vil driving with clenched fists, bloodshot eyes, and frizzy hair. The caption read: “Me trying to excel in my career, maintain a social life, drink enough water, exercise, text everyone back, stay sane, survive, and be happy.” I chuckled to myself, thinking, "Sounds about right." We Know We are Made for More Many of us can relate to that meme. We know we are supposed to be healthy, pursue virtue, and follow God’s will for our lives. It is a lot to balance, but we know that those are the things necessary to thrive. But how do we do it all without turning into a Disney villain? At the time I saw that meme, I was beginning to discover the hard way what I needed to do to thrive. After being diagnosed with a chronic disease, I realized that I needed to live a more balanced life. But every time I started, I felt like I would go two steps backward. I would quickly give up new habits out of exhaustion, confusion, and burnout. This only left me more confused and burnt out. Then I heard a line from Matthew Kelly that got me thinking: “Our lives change when our habits change.” I realized that habits were the key to beginning to thrive and have life to the full as Jesus wants us to (see John 10: 10) The Way God Designed Our Brains Our brains were designed by God to live by habits. This adaptation helps us to reserve energy for other aspects of our lives. One study found that 45% of our daily activities are habits. Without habits, we would experience and decide on what to do anew every day. This would quickly tax our brainpower and willpower. For example, we would have to decide our morning routine, driving routine, and more before work. This would mean that by the time we began work, we would not have as much mental capacity to do our work. Life would be very difficult without habits! Many thinkers have also believed that habits are the foundation of success. One of the oldest and most famous quotes in this area comes from Aristotle: We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit. To progress in any area, we need continuous effort. That is why professional athletes work out or practice nearly every day. Musicians practice regularly. Writers and other creative people work regularly. Habits are much better suited for progress and growth than inconsistent actions. Habits can be helpful in every area of life, including health, virtue, and vocation. These five books will help you to discover ways to make and break long-lasting habits. What is a Habit? If you want to know more about the exact components of a habit, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg is the book for you. In this book, Duhigg dives into the research behind habit components and formation. He also explains how to create habits for both individuals and organizations. One key takeaway from this book is an explanation of the three parts of a habit: The Cue // This is what triggers your brain to go into habit mode. The Routine // This is the actual habit. The Reward // This is what makes your brain crave repeating the habit. Duhigg explains that one of the best ways to make and break habits is to keep the cue and reward, but change the routine. What is the Best Way to Create a Habit? Unsure of how to create a habit? Have you tried traditional ways to create good habits, only to give up? These next books are for you. There is a lot of debate in the psychological community about many aspects of habit formation. Personally, I do not think there is one correct way to create habits. I think that each of us has a way to create habits best suited to our personalities and circumstances. These books offer lots of options. Atomic Habits Atomic Habits by James Clear was published in 2018 and millions of copies have been sold. The main focus of this book is the creation of systems and relying on those instead of goals to make things happen. These systems should be made up of small habits that push you towards becoming the person you want to be. Another helpful takeaway from this book is the Four Laws of Behavior Change. This includes making it: obvious, attractive, easy, and satisfying to complete the new habit. This book is helpful for those who struggle with goal-setting or habit formation. This is also the best book on the list for breaking bad habits. Mini Habits Mini Habits book was published by Stephen Guise in 2013 and quickly became a bestseller on Amazon. This book was inspired by Guise’s famous one-push-up challenge. After struggling to make exercise a habit, he decided he would only force himself to do one push-up. He would not make himself do anything else after that. He found that making the bar so low motivated him to do more. He then began using this technique in all aspects of life. A mini habit is too small to fail and only doing this small thing counts as a “win” for the day. Guise has found that this motivates people to do more, and tricks them into forming larger habits. For example, having to only write 50 words a day has motivated Guise to write 1000 words most days. This book is helpful for those who struggle with summoning the motivation to do more. It is also helpful for those who need easy wins after failing to create good habits. Elastic Habits This book is the sequel to Mini Habits. Guise found that he struggled with having no set way to measure the extras he did after mini habits. He then created elastic habits and found them to be even more successful. Elastic habits have three levels: mini, plus, and elite, and can have many options in one level. The key here is that even only doing the mini level counts as a win for the day. But if you want to, your extras are measurable as a plus or elite win. I have found this strategy even better than mini habits because it challenges me to do more without worrying about failing. This book will be helpful for those who like the idea of mini habits, but who thrive on more structure. But, I highly recommend reading Mini Habits first! How Do I Fit in a New Routine? You may want to create a whole new routine and may be wondering how to fit that into your already busy schedule. The Miracle Morning has an answer for you (but don’t skip this part if you are not a morning person!) This book was published in 2012 by Hal Elrod and has been translated into 37 languages since. The Miracle Morning is made up of the best practices we need to thrive, like exercising and reading. It then allows you to fit in those activities before starting your day. While some of these elements may not be for you, the whole idea of The Miracle Morning is still very helpful. Elrod also includes some very helpful tips for becoming a morning person. Lean Into How You Were Created Habits are a great way to use the brains designed by God to create ways to thrive in all areas of life, as He wants us to. I pray that these books will be helpful to you in discovering ways to have life to the full. Do you have any other suggestions? Have you had success with any other habit-building strategies?   [bctt tweet="5 Books to Read for Making and Breaking Habits #BISblog //" via="no"]   Abby Albrinck is a graduate student in clinical psychology. She also writes about health, virtue, and vocation. In her free time, she enjoys crocheting, reading, and playing music at Mass. You can find out more about her here.

On the day of my first marathon, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. After dressing in my running shorts and tank top, I found a Sharpie and opened my journal to the page where I’d written the bulleted list. I took the marker to my forearm, the cool point rippling along my skin with gentle pressure. The words cascaded from my wrists to biceps, wobblier on the left arm than the right. On my body numbered one through 26 were my prayer intentions, one for each mile of the race. Running the Race So as to Win When I signed up for the marathon, I decided I would run without any music. I wanted to immerse myself without any buffers, but still felt a need for structure, something to fill the time. My 26 prayer intentions included family members, world issues, personal dreams. Like most people, I wasn’t running this marathon to get a good workout, but to accomplish something that I thought would make me feel amazing. I wanted a motivator to propel me forward in this race, to take me outside of myself and the physical pain. At the sound of the starting gun, my belly swam through my insides as I strode to keep up with the runners around me. Some of them started to talk, comparing times and setting paces. I buckled in for the solitude and silence. As the single-digit miles moved along with punctuations of cheering supporters and water stations, my prayers remained earnest. Some fluent thoughts passed through my mind the first few minutes of each mile, until the prayer became increasingly passive, a background mantra chanting in my brain. Perseverance on the Pavement With each step forward, concentration waned. Prayer lost its luster as my muscles swelled and breath accelerated. Boredom ensued, and the only thing to do was run. By mile 12, I was no longer thinking about my prayer intentions, many of which had become curling black flakes of marker smeared across my skin. I hit my wall, and could only think about how badly I wanted to be done. I’d love to say I became rejuvenated somewhere in the later miles, that I felt God’s push and re-centered myself to gain direction and purpose. I didn’t. I just ran, my stride becoming a shuffle. The flat terrain of Council Bluffs, Iowa spanned around me, a backdrop of quiet parks and monotonous pavement. My brilliant friends made appearances at various mile markers, and my roommate FaceTimed my family so they could see me run from two states away. These moments energized me for a few minutes, then silence would throb as their cheers subsided in the distance. For much of the race, I was bored and lonely. The joy of seeing the last mile marker provided more relief than I thought possible. I had an amazing finish. My legs did not feel a part of my body, my breath was not my own. I panted and cried just a bit. My friends circled me with hugs and water, their love as thick as the humid Midwestern heat. Letting Myself Down? At the end of the race, I didn’t feel invincible. Of course, I was proud and happy. But I allowed the weakness and brokenness I felt from the physical exhaustion and desolate silence to disappoint me. It was disheartening to realize that as powerful as my body felt, my spirit had not kept up. Self-imposed expectations prevented me from accepting the spiritual difficulties I endured: if I had prayed better or harder, I would feel unstoppable right now. My Weakness, His Power I confused my human act of prayer with God’s strength. Whether or not I completed the race and stuck to my prayer goal had little importance. He let me finish in spite of my weakness, not to prove my own ability, but so that I could witness His power. I had contorted prayer into a transaction, thinking I would find peace and spiritual fulfillment during the marathon if I stuck to my plan. Music or not, marathons are grueling. My prayer did not change that fact, but it forced me to face my weakness and see it not as an inhibitor, but an opportunity for God’s strength to prevail above my shortcomings. As I experience desolation in different forms today, I continue to make attempts at prayer and fail. Some days, I don’t try at all. I am frustrated when I think I lack the aptitude to be close to God. I set expectations for prayer that go unfulfilled, focusing on my own capabilities instead of His. I pray that God will make me stronger, ask He asks me to rely on His force alone. Though I resist, it is only through total dependence that I can find freedom from the deceptive allure of self-sufficiency. His Constant Help My marathon story is not a lesson of failure and perseverance, hard work and success. It is a story of weakness that demands me to let go of pride and independence in order to accept God’s strength. Life bears obstacles far more intense than the physical toll of a marathon, and though I may not have the strength to weather the next challenge, He always will.   [bctt tweet="Running Without Music, Not Without Purpose #BISblog //" via="no"]   Grace Spiewak resides outside of Chicago, where she learns and writes about Latin, ancient history, and her Catholic Faith. She works as a college librarian and holds degrees from Creighton University and University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Outside of the library, Grace enjoys exploring Chicago on foot or bike, especially with her family and friends.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. ” // Ephesians 1:3 Love this from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Over a decade ago I heard Mother Angelica make the following analogy in regards to sin and holiness. This audacious Carmelite likened sin to a mud puddle into which no one completely avoids falling (aside from Jesus and Mary). What sets us apart and is a measure of one’s holiness is their response to their fall. The Three Responses to Sin There are three basic responses to sin: that of the sinner, the good person, and the saint. The Response of the Sinner The Sinner rejoices in the mud puddle—sometimes even getting to a point where she is not falling into it, but instead jumping in with great enthusiasm. She loves to play in the mud, claiming it is “natural” and there is nothing wrong with wanting to cover herself in it. She may even believe that the mud is rejuvenating. She has mud fights with other sinners, and splashes those people who are trying to walk by and avoid the puddle. She delights in the slush and muck, seeing it as instinctive and commonplace. The sinner makes little, if any attempt to get out of the mud. The Response of the Good Person The Good Person mourns each time she falls in the puddle. She knows the mud makes her unclean and could stain. She cries out, and mentally punishes herself over and over again saying, “How could I let this happen? I know better than this! Why didn’t I just avoid the mud puddle? I have no desire to be here! I know that it’s wrong! I just fell!” Without realizing it, the Good Person pridefully thinks she never should have ended up in the puddle to begin with and because of this, her “fall” is mortifying. She spends so much time wallowing, She remains in the mud for a while with the focus on herself and not on God before finally climbing out. The Response of the Saint The Saint does not make a big deal of the mud puddle. When she falls in she thinks, “Darn… I did it again…” and then immediately gets herself out of it. She knows the mud is bad for her body and soul, but she also knows that because of original sin her intellect is darkened and her will weakened. Thus, she’s bound to fall into the mud sometimes. When she falls, she simply stands up, steps out of the mud puddle, and cleans herself off. She does not excuse her fall, but she does not dwell on it either. In humility, she knows she is prone to falling, so she is forgiving of herself. Because she does not dwell on the mud or herself, she is able to focus her attention upward and concern herself with things and Persons that are much more enjoyable and life-giving than mud. What is Your Typical Response? This analogy has been so helpful for me in my own life. My own tendency is to respond like the Good Person. I am so condemning of myself when I fall that I end up staying down! This is exactly what Satan wants; it is his masterful trap. It is freeing to know that my frequent trips into the mud puddle are not necessarily a sign of personal weakness, rather a sign of fallen human nature. I still try to avoid the mud puddle, but now I know I do not have to condemn myself when I slip. Condemnation—even self- condemnation—is not a holy attribute. Love is though, even when we are directing it towards ourselves. Thanks to Jesus, if I do fall, I have a way to get up and be cleansed. The mud puddle can only keep me dirty if I let it. What’s your typical response to your sinful moments? Do you justify the mud? Do you pridefully mourn it? What would it take for you to respond like the saint?   [bctt tweet="The Three Responses to Sin #BISblog //" via="no"]

On the night before He suffered, Jesus prayed for His disciples, who were "in the world" but who belonged entirely to Him (see John 17). This call of radical discipleship in the midst of an anti-Christian world is possible only by God's grace, and The Daughters of St. Paul are swimming in it. You have probably encountered social media content from The Daughters of St. Paul on Twitter or in their viral TikTok videos. They know that the world desperately needs Jesus and they have a keen sense of how to communicate the Good News to those who might be distant from the Church (for whatever reason). They have been beautifully bringing the Truth of God's Word in 240 characters or less, and now they've been given a little more page space to tell their own stories of the wonderful works of the Lord. Millennial Nuns is a new book from The Daughters of St. Paul that explores what it means to be anchored in the spiritual life while ministering to a port-less culture. Real Stories of Real Women We are well-versed with the stories of religious Saints who were convicted of their calling to religious life in their childhood and early teens years. The stories shared in Millennial Nuns will be the saint stories read by future generations. We get a real glimpse into individual Sister's call to the religious life: one while trying to write a college history paper, one while flipping through movies on the television. These stories of conversion are relatable, moving, and insightful. In the course of two chapters I found myself laughing out loud and tearing up. This is the way of life, and it's put on beautiful, purpose-driven display in the writing of the Sisters. Not Shying from Suffering One thing that struck me in this book was how honest the Sisters were about recent or current sufferings. Their life did not magically become perfect once they took their vows. They still dealt with familial struggles and losses, the challenges that come with living in community, and their labors to cultivate the unfamiliar fields in which God has placed them. They are real about their own sufferings and the sufferings they encounter in the lives of those they serve. They paint a realistic picture of what serving Jesus in 2021 looks like. A Look Into the Heart of the Person Each of the chapters in the book is written by a different Sister (including Blessed is She's Sister Maria Kim-Ngân Bùi). She shares a bit of her story (past and present), her unique experience, blessings, and challenges in living out the Lord's specific call on her life in this specific vocation. Each Sister also shares a bit about her interior life. But further—and what is even more captivating—is how evidently the fruit of that interior life overflows into every word she writes. We catch glimpses of each Sister's unique spirituality in the way she writes about prayer and in the way she writes about hand-lettering on social media. Through this intentional presentation, it is easy for each of us to see ourselves in these stories and to ponder: what is God asking of me? Contemplatives in Action The Daughters of St. Paul, funnily enough, are not actually nuns. Since they are contemplative religious in active roles in the world, they are religious sisters. But the heart behind #millenialnuns is evident and is perfectly expressed by the co-founder of The Daughters of St. Paul, Venerable Mother Thecla Merlo: How beautiful and holy it is to communicate Jesus, whom we want to always carry in the center of our heart. Millennials Nuns deserves a spot on your TBR list—in fact, bump it up to the top. And then let us—and them—know what you think of it. You know they'll be on Instagram.   [bctt tweet="BIS Reads // Millennial Nuns by The Daughters of St. Paul #BISblog //" via="no"]

Since early in the new year, I have been tuning in to Father Mike Schmitz’s Bible in a Year Podcast. Recently, we heard the Gospel of Mark. Over and over again I have been reminded of Mark's generous use of the word "immediately." It is quite literally tossed throughout his short Gospel as though throwing confetti—and in a sense, he is. Jesus is the Messiah! Jesus is Lord! The Lord has come! "Mark is a man after my own heart," I have thought to myself on more than one occasion. The Pace of Holiness If I were to have been inspired to contribute to Sacred Scripture, I suspect it would sound an awful lot like Mark’s firehose of miracles. No lag time. No cliff-hangers. Just getting to the heart of the life-changing message that people have been aching to hear, without so much as time for a breath. I like the pace of "immediately"—particularly in the spiritual sense (probably because it has not been my experience and there are plenty of times I wish that it were). I can think of stunning metaphors about growth and waiting, I probably even have a scripted plaque somewhere to remind myself that "God is never in a hurry, but always on time." And yet, I cannot help but find myself in the place of impatience. Overnight shipping, digital pictures, wifi hotspots, tween clothing, Netflix marathons, bullet trains. We are people who hate to be on the way. Yet that is exactly what we are: Pilgrims. We are Pilgrims The word “pilgrim” reminds me of those who have participated in the Camino, the way of Saint James through Spain. Whether someone has walked one mile, or all 500, they are known as “pilgrims,” travelers making their way to a holy place. So we all are. We face crises to remind us that we’re pilgrims, still on the way. The Father uses these moments to change us, to speed us along the way, to transform pilgrims into saints. // Scott Hahn I wonder if the Lord is hoping to teach me something about patience and persistence in prayer, beginning again? Long Awaited The hemorrhaging woman bled for twelve years before she received Jesus’ healing on a crowded street (Mark 5: 25-34). The whole of Jerusalem waited for days to see if Jesus would rise from the dead. Abraham and Sarah waited well into their nineties before they realized their hope for a child (Genesis 18: 9-15). The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years (Exodus). Many Saints have stories of long waits: Edith Stein (Saint Theresa Benedicta of the Cross) waited to convert to Catholicism in an effort to ease the pain to her Jewish mother’s heart, all the while soaking in Faith like a sponge and teaching at University. Saint Ignatius of Loyola had a major conversion while awaiting recovery from a cannonball to his leg. Saint Teresa of Calcutta famously experienced decades of silence in prayer while serving the "poorest of the poor." Come to think of it, Mark may be the enviable outlier; the exception to the rule. A great storyteller in the sense that he captures the imagination of the listener with these vignettes, even when our own lived experience is less-than-expedited. Without question and in every case, the Lord was moving, working, melding circumstances and hearts to be precisely where they were needed at the right time. The Lord is still moving, working and melding circumstances and hearts—often in ways we had not imagined and would not have guessed. Our identity as pilgrims offers a helpful reminder of our role as travelers who are on the way, incomplete and reliant on our divine Companion. A Pilgrim’s Prayer Lord, you who called your servant Abraham out of the town of Ur in Chaldea and who watched over him during all his wanderings; you who guided the Jewish people through the desert; we also ask you to watch over us, your servants, who for love of your name, make this pilgrimage to Santiago de COmpostela. Be for us the companion on our journey, the guide at the crossroads, our strength in fatigue, our shelter from the heat, our light in the darkness, our consolation in discouragement and the perseverance of our intention. So that we under your guidance, safely and unhurt, may reach the end of our journey and strengthened with grace and virtue, secure and filled with happiness, may return to our home. Through Jesus Chrsit, our Lord. Amen. Apostle Saint James, pray for us. Holy Virgin Mary of the Way, pray for us. (source)   [bctt tweet="Pilgrims Persistent in Prayer #BISblog //" via="no"]

...but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” // 2 Corinthians 12:9 Love this from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. “Am I going to continue to trust God, even if He never fulfills the longings of my heart?” The news devastated me. I had low estrogen levels, coupled with chronic PCOS. “It may be a long wait,” the doctor said. Waiting! Again! We had spent the previous two years waiting for our residence permit through endless cycles of application and rejection. It had taken a toll on us emotionally, financially, and spiritually. The diseases of guilt and shame devoured me. Was God punishing me? With my long history of irregular periods, it was no surprise that we spent over two years trying to get pregnant without success. The doctor had asked us to give it another six months and if nothing happened, that treatment was inevitable. The dull ache to fill a cavernous void caused by infertility is hard to comprehend. Every month feels like a new heartbreak. It left me feeling wounded, alone, confused, and angry. Infertility is so much more than just emptiness of the womb. It greatly challenged my relationship with God. Moreover, seeing the evident blessings of others affected my self-worth, even my marriage. I searched for every Scripture on barrenness and was consoled that its pages were layered with reminders of the Lord’s plan that surpassed any vision we could ever have for our lives. The profound words uttered to Hannah, “and the Lord remembered her” (Samuel 1:19) brought comfort and confidence to radically trust God. One afternoon, while praying, I remembered something that was spoken over me early in my conversion journey. I had encountered Jesus but didn’t know what it all meant. At a retreat I was asked what I would like prayer for and I blurted out “I don’t know” and began to weep. The Presence of God was palpable and as hands were laid on me a prophetic word was given: "The Lord is placing a call on your life," followed by, "Also I see an image, two children: the oldest is a girl, then a boy." In my despair, I remembered the prophecy. I opened my notes and read again, "I see two children." I sensed God wanting me to partner with Him, calling me to own those words, calling me to speak them aloud in prayer. The more I lamented, the more I began to see myself, know my value, and understand my identity as His beloved. Several months later, I found myself in the midst of my miracle. It wasn’t in my ability to bear babies. It was finding freedom in surrender; it was finding merit in suffering. I vividly remember the day we visited the doctor to discuss potential treatment. A week prior to that I was asked to take some medication to regulate my cycle and was supposed to bleed after the 5th day... but I didn’t. Another complication? As I waited at the clinic, something felt different; something was sacred. Life felt new and potent with promise. I was acutely aware that what happened over the next few minutes could change my life forever. Yet, the words "and the Lord remembered her" entered my spirit, even as the words, "I see two children" reinvigorated me in new ways. In the examination room, as the doctor moved the ultrasound wand around my belly, we heard it… a tiny heartbeat! Almost certain that she made a mistake, she tried again and again, uttering under her breath that I couldn’t have gotten pregnant under the medication I had taken. In a moment, everything changed; in a moment everything was new. We were standing on the threshold of an uttered prophecy. I was going to be a mother. God’s promises were indeed yes and amen (2 Corinthians 1:20). Nine months later, we held her, our vivacious little girl. We named her Kristen which means "belongs to Christ" because she belonged to Him – the God of miracles, the God who keeps His promises. Four years later Nathan arrived, a testimonial of God’s faithfulness. I know how hard it is when the famine of infertility strikes at the soul. I know how the heavy crosses of unmet expectations, unfulfilled longings, and the inexplicable “not yets” can weigh us down. Yet this is our hope: we do not shoulder these crosses alone. We partner with Christ. In the Son of God Who became the very embodiment of suffering, we can be assured that even our brokenness can turn into blessing and our suffering into reservoirs of His grace and mercy. God collects every tear (see Psalm 56:8) with a promise that all will be made new one day (see Revelation 21). But for here and now, you can lament, you can mourn for the child you don’t have. The Lord allows these emotions and He desires to transform them into virtues. He isn’t callous or indifferent to your cries and He’s not ignoring your wait. He loves you too much to answer your prayers at any other time than the right time. Sister, you are not any less of a mother than I am. You are called to be a Christ-bearer right where you are and you can love those God has placed on the peripheries of your life, freely and without hesitation. And as the Lord’s plan beautifully unfolds before you, you can trust He will remember you; yes, He will keep His promises. If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Healing After Infertility #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. I felt like a drooping daisy waiting for the sunshine to bring its petals back to life again. It might have been a sunny morning as I walked out the doors after Mass, but my mood was sullen. The night before, I was catching up with a friend over drinks when someone slid into our booth. The young man spent the rest of our time there trying to get my friend’s number. What had started as a light-hearted night out turned into an evening where I felt like the third wheel. Normally, I might have been able to let something like this slide right off my back. Yet I was already in a vulnerable place of feeling single and lonely. So rather than be excited that my friend had caught someone’s eye, or even enjoy the humor of it all, I turned inward. Like a daisy at night, I looked down to the world to tell me who I was. If I had kept Jesus’ gaze, my heart would have held steady and firm like the woman of worth in the book of Proverbs (see Proverbs 31). A woman who was clothed with dignity and strength, laughing at the days to come because she had hope and confidence that her future would be full of joy. In moments of hurt or despair, I have a variety of reactions. The first is usually to tell God that I don’t know why He is letting me go through what I am going through. The second is to plead with Him that my suffering is just a page—or maybe a short chapter—in my story. Then I wait, and I look for Holy Spirit moments. My dad always prayed for “Divine Appointments”, which has become a habit of prayer which I have taken on, and an exciting one at that! My Divine Appointment came on that droopy-daisy morning. On most mornings after Mass, I would walk out around the same time as a very polished and well-dressed elderly man. As he opened up his car door to drive home, I passed him on the sidewalk on my walk to work. He typically sat a few pews in front of me, and I always admired his deeply peaceful demeanor. I decided that morning would be the day that I would finally introduce myself. From that moment on, my morning commute would never be the same. I know that the Holy Spirit placed him in my life. On the day we first met, he spoke the words of affirmation that my soul so longed to hear. He continued to be an invaluable source of encouragement to me as we chatted each morning, and there is no doubt that he challenged me to grow more deeply in my friendship and commitment to the Lord. When he learned of my job, he gave me a book of the Saints trying to find the patron in my field, and telling me about Saint Susanna. On the days it rained, he lent me his umbrella. He made a point to make sure I could see the hierarchy of angels in the Cathedral cupola by offering me his binoculars. What may have been most meaningful, though, is when he invited me to join him in a nine-month first Friday Mass novena, because in His words, “I want to do it before it’s too late.” He made sure I never missed. Today, I look back on our novena and I am ever so grateful that we were able to share those graces together. It has been over a year since he passed away, but his legacy lives on. I met his family at his funeral, and one of his children invited me to talk over a cup of coffee. It was there that she shared with me more about this dear man’s life, and gifted me with the crucifix that hung in his coffin during the visitation, along with some of his old Rosaries and favorite books. Today, that crucifix hangs in our home and his books are safely kept along with his handwritten notes inside of them. This man was like a grandfather to me, and through God’s grace He allowed me to know him even more deeply after his death. After my friend passed away, I feared there would never again be anyone like him in my life. It is true, there will never be anyone just like him, but I pray that the Lord will allow me to be a blessing for someone, just like he was a blessing to me. In the meantime, I continue to pray for Divine appointments while keeping my eyes wide open for how His grace will be revealed. How has the Holy Spirit intervened in your life? If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Finding an Unlikely Friend #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. Eighteen years ago, shortly after my first child was born, I was diagnosed with Hypothyroidism. At the time, I did not question it. I had bigger things to worry about, like being a new mom. I just took my prescription and lived my life. Over the years, however, my blood work never leveled out. My doctor was constantly adjusting my prescription. But I do not remember a moment when she called to tell me, “Everything looks great.” In fact, my health slowly continued to deteriorate. Eight years later, by the time my sixth child was born, I was experiencing chronic adrenal fatigue, anemia, brain fog, inflammation, and depression. In 2015, I was finally diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune disease that attacks the thyroid. My heart cried out: “How can I be a good mom to these six children when I am battling this? Why are You allowing this? It seems so unfair to my kids, Lord.” In prayer, the Lord responded: “Do not lose heart, Sarah. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure …” (2 Corinthians 4:16-17). Intellectually, I knew it was true. My health issues were a “slight momentary affliction” in the grand scheme of eternity. This gave me some consolation. But it did not last very long, for daily life as a wife, mother, and homemaker continued to be hard. Most days, I felt an oppressive spirit pressing down on me. I lacked the energy I needed to be proactive with my kids. Piles grew around my house. Laundry backed up. Dinner was not always cooked. I felt stuck and paralyzed; imprisoned in my own life. My chronic illness was a very silent, personal suffering. The worst of it lasted for about eight or nine years. Very few people knew just how horrible I felt. At one of my lowest points, I found myself praying with Psalm 40: “I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure” (v. 1-2). The hard part was that I could not see past the desolate pit. I could not even imagine the Lord inclining to me and hearing my cry. There was no rescue. I was resigned to being stuck in the miry bog forever. I turned to psalms of lamentation, of grieving, of frustration. “How long, O Lord?” They taught me the importance of being completely honest with God. The Psalms showed me a steady pattern of prayer that went from lamenting to surrender to praise. I began to take solace in the raw beauty of these prayers. I clung to them when my own words failed me. I slowly began to recognize that even in the pit, I wasn’t alone. Jesus had climbed down into the swamp and was waiting with me. He was waiting with me, as I waited for Him. In the midst of waiting, the Lord revealed that our current home was in some way afflicting me. Whether an oppressive spirit had attached itself to the house or whether the amount of upkeep was simply too daunting for me, I am not sure. But God clearly put it on my heart (and that of my husband’s) to surrender the home we built for a simpler one that I could more easily manage. This required a great amount of humility and abandonment to Divine Providence. To the outside world, downsizing when your family is still growing makes little sense. It could even be seen as a failure. But we knew this was God’s will, and we trusted Him. Almost immediately and effortlessly, the door swung open to selling our home and buying a new one. However, there were still obstacles to endure. During the two months leading up to our move, my faith was truly put to the test. I found out I was pregnant, and then I miscarried our seventh child. In the midst of the grieving, I suffered the physical demands of packing up our family of eight. The added stress of all the unforeseen circumstances that accompany moving was excruciatingly burdensome. I was inflicted with insomnia. My whole body was in constant pain due to the stress. The very day before we moved, I got so sick, I could not function. I knew it was Satan’s last ditch effort to latch on with his deadly claws. It confirmed that he did not want us to move; he knew this move meant freedom for me. But in prayer, I saw the Lord grab ahold of my hand, leading me through the valley of death (Psalm 23). Everything around me was on fire, hot and burning. I had to stay on the narrow path if I did not want to get burned. I had to trust Him to lead me out. Which He did. Within days of moving, the oppression, the pain, and the insomnia all lifted. I no longer felt imprisoned in my own body. I was free. The Lord showed me that He closed that chapter of my life. “It is over,” He said to me. The page had been turned. The healing had begun. I found strength and energy I had not felt in years. I was more peaceful. My hope was restored and my purpose renewed. Often, I have wondered why I had to go through so much pain and suffering to be healed. In many ways, it remains a mystery. A year after I felt stuck in the pit of Psalm 40, a new psalm came into my heart in prayer: Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits— who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the Pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good as long as you live so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. // Psalm 103:1-5 Yes! My life from the pit had been redeemed; I was renewed. When the Lord takes us by the hand and leads the way, we can see, feel, and experience the difficult terrain. But He guides us—sometimes pulls us—through. The valley of death and the refiner’s fire are hard, grueling, hot, and intense. But He doesn’t let go. And He, indeed, eventually sets us on a rock of safety. And we remember … Apart from You, Lord, I can do nothing. But You can do it all! Bless the Lord, oh my soul! If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Miracles When Moving #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. My husband sat on the hospital chair with his disheveled hair, composed but worried, his mind preoccupied from the bad news he received the day before. I was happily in a newborn fog, holding our daughter in awe of the gift of her life. This was the first time I couldn’t meet my husband in disappointment or in the worry of what would come next for our little family. The nurse came in to perform our daughter’s hearing test. She advised us not to worry if our daughter didn’t pass the first time and mentioned that the test would be billed to our insurance. My poor husband received another sucker punch in less than 24 hours of being reminded that he wasn’t providing financially anymore after unexpectedly losing his job the day before our daughter was born. Hours before, he had just helped me birth our third child with no medical intervention and marveled at the gift of her new life. After the nurse walked out, he called the insurance company to confirm our daughter would be covered. I felt cheated that our daughter’s birth was clouded by my husband’s concern to provide. The weight of being the provider has never fallen on my shoulders; however, I felt that this new baby would outshine any other difficulty that we were facing. “The Lord will provide,” I said from the hospital bed (which I truly believed). But I have always had a tendency of oversimplifying things in an effort to put a positive spin on it. My husband was in a different mindset and there was nothing I could say to give him the confidence that everything would be okay. In the coming months, the effects of his job loss would manifest itself in toxic stress. That stress would spill into parts of our marriage, child rearing, and overall livelihood. After four months of being unemployed, my husband secured a job. Those months while he was home were a blessing as he handled the kids' school drop offs and pickups, made the lunches, and gave me the space to care for my postpartum body and our newborn. That time really helped us work as a team and rely on one another completely. That teamwork wavered once the stress of the new job took over and memories of being eliminated took a grip on him. We both became short-tempered with each other, frustrated, exhausted from having a baby that wasn’t too keen on sleeping, all of which manifested itself in different ways. We tried being grateful even though we knew the intensity of the stress was not sustainable. Had we relegated ourselves to the idol of job security over our peace of mind and our hearts? Had we become the Israelites pursuing false gods under the pretenses of financial stability being more important than emotional well being? Seeing my husband absorbed by a new job that broke his spirit wasn’t what either of us had envisioned for our family. We needed the Provider Himself to intervene and break these chains that bound us to a job that was providing financially but was sucking the positivity out of everything else in our lives. Pope Francis announced the year of Saint Joseph in December 2020. It sounded great but was not something I could chase in blogs or books yet. Lent 2021 arrived and we both knew we needed a prayer overhaul. We fasted together, offered up the same things, went to Confession together regularly, added weekly Mass into our routine, and went to Saint Joseph for the first time in our marriage. The job situation wasn’t improving but there was no way my husband was going to quit (especially during a pandemic). We began our 33-day Consecration to Saint Joseph right before Lent. I had done many consecrations on my own and with my small group but this was the first time my revert husband completed one alongside me. We took everything with us: the job loss, the new job that turned out to be tumultuous, and our family's illnesses. We gave everything that had grieved us, afflicted us, and distanced us from one another to Saint Joseph in hopes that our relationship with God the Father, as well as our own, would be restored. Saint Joseph taught us new ways about God’s perfect orchestration in our lives. We both found a father in Saint Joseph who we knew by name, but with whom we had not yet sought a relationship. Saint Joseph was the hand that brought us to the Provider. We both felt comforted in his paternal care. During our waiting and holding tightly to our consecration to Saint Joseph, my husband secured a more suitable new job. Our household started to reflect the interior transformation we were experiencing. The faucet that had been leaking from the upstairs bathtub was finally fixed, the sliding glass door that wouldn’t open unless you used your whole body against it was like new, and the garage that had been neglected for over a year was organized with everything in its right place. The man of the house was present to the needs of the home as well as the people inside of it. Together, we began to welcome the outpouring of the Father’s provision. Together, we remembered that there is not anything that could keep us from Him. We have continued some of our Lenten practices to remind us to thank the Father for bringing us out of our own Egypt into His loving and caring hands. There are points in our lives where we are willing to forgo peace of mind because we think the situation we are in is the best for us, even if it's causing us physical, emotional, or spiritual harm. We can’t see our way out of something that is so toxic because we don’t have the clarity we need. God the Father does and He does provide. It may not feel like He is in those moments when you are sinking in quicksand but His is the hand that saves. Where in your own life are you sinking? Where do you need God’s saving hand? If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Physical + Emotional Healing #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. After I finished preparing for a career in social work during college, I was invited to consider serving for a year as a volunteer in a social service agency as a part of a year-long volunteer program. Obviously, a decision like this had big financial implications. While my "yes" didn’t make sense to my parents, or on paper, it was the thing at that time that I couldn’t not do. Although in my bones and in my prayer I felt like this was the right decision for me, the financial impact was real as a newly-minted college grad with student debt. While I was able to put my loans into deferment, money was sure to be tight as a participant in this program. Looking for affirmation that I was making the right call, I prayed for some kind of sign that I was on the right track. I echoed the plea from my favorite Thomas Merton prayer: My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going…but I believe the desire to please you does in fact please you. I had heard—as I am sure you have—about dramatic responses to prayer. Sure signs, impossible to ignore. Roses a la Saint Therese. Receiving the perfectly-timed letter in the mail. The providential chapter of a book or conversation in spiritual direction. That did (and still does) appeal to me, but none of those responses are what I received at that time. What I did receive was my tax return for the year as a student employee: one hundred and fourteen dollars in a legal envelope. Not particularly exciting, except that it was exactly the same amount as the flight I had been looking at to get to my service program! My answered prayer didn’t arrive with fireworks and fanfare. What it offered was quiet confidence in my decision to spend a year in service, and God’s provision to do so. It was direct, simple, and tangible. There was no need for further wrestling. This is how I asked God to respond to me: with clarity. In the grand scheme of things, this small answered prayer was not meant to convey God’s greatness to the masses, but it was a moment I was assured of having been seen and heard in even my small needs. Likely there are countless examples just like this, strewn across my days. Maybe you have also asked the Lord for something in prayer and hoped for a "powerful wind" in response? Especially because we know and believe God to be all loving and all powerful, big replies are welcomed. From time to time, we are reminded that God’s loving, no-less-clarifying response is in the "gentle whisper" instead. The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. // I Kings 19:12 If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // A Miraculous Mission #BISblog //" via="no"]

Welcome to our Remember series, where we pause to reflect on how God has proven faithful in the past so to help us place our trust in Him in the present. We look to the future, knowing that God always keeps His promise and that He always makes a way. We invite you to pray with us, to write your own Psalm (see the end of the post!), and share with others about how God has been faithful in your life. My entire outlook on life altered during my senior year of high school. I began my first “real” relationship with an older college guy on whom I had been hard-core crushing since middle school. He was a “good Catholic boy,” a family friend, someone with an incredible level of intelligence, and a guy who truly cared about his Faith. What I did not know was that he was carrying deep wounds that he naturally brought into our relationship. These were then projected onto me through verbal and emotional manipulation. Because of my inexperience, I could not identify what was wrong—though it was incredibly clear something was unsound. I thought I was at fault; that it was my own lacking that was causing issues. I sunk deep into my own psyche, developing raging anxiety and crippling depression. My friends noticed, but sadly abandoned me. My family also noticed this drastic metamorphosis, but even after countless conversations and emotional support, they were unsure of how to help me. I became unrecognizable. I transformed from a confidant, self-assured person to an antsy mess who could not even decide which homework assignment to begin working on without experiencing crippling anxiety attacks. Worst of all, my view of God and the way He loves became twisted into the way my abusive boyfriend addressed me. Finally, I acknowledged that the relationship had to end when I realized that I no longer desired to live. I was not suicidal in the sense that I wanted to hurt myself, and I cannot even say that I wanted to die. I just thought it would be easier for everyone if I was gone. It was then that I finally had enough strength to cut the toxicity out of my life. A New Start Within the same month, I arrived at college. Broken, I now had to deal with everything without my usual familial support. Since it was a Catholic university, the chapel within my dormitory became my escape as I had no place else to cry. What was unintentional on my part was that I learned to pray from my heart and to hear God speak to me just by frequently placing myself in front of His presence. Slowly and surely, over the next eighteen months, God showed me that His love is the exact opposite of what I had experienced. Jesus made it obvious His desire for a relationship with me came with freedom, acceptance, and love—not pressure or accusations. This realization was completely authentic, but I was not completely healed from the abuse. Hearts and minds can take a lifetime to heal. My experience was no different. Making decisions—even minor ones—kept me incapacitated. I had a hard time trusting others and making friends because I had a hard time trusting myself. After all, I had made the horrible decision to enter into that debilitating relationship in the first place. What if I made the wrong call again? A Pull and Providence During the Fall of my sophomore year, a canceled weekend trip resulted in my resting alone in my dorm. Suddenly, I felt prompted to go to Confession. Though I thought it weird since I had recently gone, the interior pull grew heavy, so I yielded and walked to church. As I waited for confessions to begin, I asked God to show me what he wanted me to say, because I had only a couple of venial sins in mind. When it was my turn, I experienced a normal Confession. I stood up to leave thinking we were done, but the priest started asking me questions. Many of his inquiries were very specific and had nothing to do with items confessed, almost as if he was reading my soul. In any other circumstance, this kind of conversation might have been unsettling. However, for some reason, it had the opposite effect. All the insight and wisdom shared were clear, concise responses to open wounds I had been dealing with because of that relationship. It was the specifics of what the priest said that were so striking, his main point being that I needed to learn to trust myself and my ability to make decisions again (something I had not mentioned during the sacrament). A New Call Dumbfounded, I left with my heart aflame. Everything I had experienced about God’s healing love over the past two years had rebuilt and restored me. Exploding within me was a strong desire for everyone to know God’s love. So I decided, right then and there, to change my major from Nursing to Theology/Catechetics and become a high school Theology teacher. I was transformed from an indecisive, anxious individual, to someone who had made a major life decision over the course of thirty minutes. Twelve years later, I still marvel at this sacramental experience. It was pivotal in my own healing, and just the beginning of God paving the way for my ministerial teaching career. Every step of the way, God opened doors that should have been locked shut. To this day, He continues to sustain me within a profession with an abnormally high burn-out and turnover rate. Sometimes I feel like I am thriving, sometimes I feel like I am just surviving, and sometimes I fall somewhere in between those extremes. However, remembering God’s faithfulness never fails to inspire a reciprocal sense of faithfulness in me. It makes it easier for me to trust Him, relying on the certainty of His fidelity which has never wavered (though it is sometimes quieter than I prefer). Ironically, it is this authentic work to be faithful and trust in God that makes me effective in evangelizing hearts within my classroom. From Glory to Glory Within the Gospels, Jesus gifts his Apostles the experience of witnessing the Transfiguration right before the suffering of the Passion. This surety of God’s glory is meant to sustain and strengthen them through the difficulties of that coming week and also the remainder of their lives (which Jesus knows will be full of difficulty). For me, my experience within the confessional over a decade ago remains one of my greatest “Transfiguration” experiences within my life. What experiences have you had which have assured you of God’s glory? Have you ever had a powerful sacramental encounter which served as a spiritual buoy through difficult circumstances? If you would like, we invite you to write your own psalm to help you remember the marvelous works of the Lord. We walk you through it here. Keep this psalm handy. Pray it when life makes it difficult to see Who reigns sovereignly.   [bctt tweet="REMEMBER Series // Calling Through Confession #BISblog //" via="no"]