October 30, 2025 // Thursday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 13:31-35 Reflect on the Word //  I watch the slow drip, drip, drip of the IV bag. I count them: one drop every three seconds. I do this treatment extremely slowly; otherwise, it gives me severe heart palpitations that trigger my body into panic attacks. I will be here for another seven hours today, trying to keep my body calm, and back again, tomorrow and every day for the next couple months, trying to endure this unwanted school of patience.  I read today’s Gospel and try to listen to what God has to teach. The Lord yearns for me. The image is lovely: like “a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings” (Luke 13:34). He longs to hold me. And I need to be held, as the stress of these treatments make my body feel so scared and unsafe. But I have been unwilling (see Luke 13:34). I haven’t let Him in. I have been gripping with my own strength, not letting the Lord help me. I make an act of the will to praise God despite my current discomfort. I want to see Him. I want to see Him performing miracles even in this IV room. And as I open my heart, I do see. I see a man in a wheelchair move his leg that has been immobile for years and hear him tell his story of recovery. A woman shares that her tumor has shrunk considerably and her markers are now so low. As my body suddenly reacts to the medicine again and my heart begins to race, the man next to me prays over me, and it brings me peace. The woman next to me looks into my tear-filled eyes with compassionate understanding. Jesus is here. He is performing healings today and tomorrow and will soon accomplish His purpose (see Luke 13:32). May we allow the Lord to gather all the parts of us and cover us with His protective, healing love. May our unwillingness soften and may we see Him in the ordinary and miraculous. Despite our circumstances, may we offer a sacrifice of praise: “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Luke 13:35) Relate to the Lord // What miracles is the Lord working around you right now. Ask for the eyes to see.  

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

August 21, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Pius X, Pope Read the Word// Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 40:5, 6-10  Reflect on the Word // “Here I am Lord, I come to do your will (Psalm 40: 8-9),” I prayed, as usual, to begin my time with the Lord. But this day, I felt great resistance towards God’s will. I didn’t want to do it, to let go of the man who had been a great gift to me, a strong support and a wonderful friend throughout our dating relationship. I was reluctant to release someone who meant so much to me. We had shared so many treasured memories and walked with one another through a difficult season that had been blessed by our connection together. At the same time, the truth was, we were not the right fit for each other. We were not fully aligned on the matters that matter most. And although God had blessed our time together, I knew deep within my heart that God now wanted me to be honest, to let this relationship go, and to open myself to God’s best for me.  It is not always easy to follow the Lord’s will and have “ears open to obedience” (Psalm 40:7). At times, it can feel like following His will comes at a great cost and includes a heavy cross. We don’t know if the sacrifice will be worth it or if we will have the strength to do what God is asking of us. But situations do not always have to turn out to be as painful as we might think.  After mustering the courage to have that difficult conversation, I felt a great relief as well as peace. God came with His presence and poured out great blessings in my decision to align myself to His desires for me. Perhaps we truly can sing with the Psalmist, “To do your will, O God, is my delight!” (Psalm 40:9) When our hearts are aligned to God’s will for us, we will experience the richness of God’s peace and delight within us. We truly are blessed when we make the Lord our trust (see Psalm 40:5). Relate to the Lord // Pray the words from the Psalm from your heart: “Here I am Lord, I come to do your will” (Psalm 40: 8-9).  

July 29, 2025 // Memorial of Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 11:19-27 Reflect on the Word //  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21), Saint Martha tells Jesus in today’s Gospel.  My own heart cries out, Lord, if only You had been here, I would not be experiencing all of this loss. If You had been here all this suffering would not have happened. These months and months of never-ending illness, the losses from both hurricanes hitting us back to back, the devastation of our communities, the sadness, uncertainty, and grief from all the trauma, if only You had been here, Lord, if only You had come, if You had shown up, if You had heard our prayers, all this would be different right now. In the grief of the loss of her brother, Saint Martha shows us how to have great faith in the midst of suffering. She says, “But even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you” (John 11:22) . In my prayer I gather my strength to make an act of trust though I can’t yet see any of the good. Even now I will surrender to You. I trust You, God. Help me, God, to see You even in this.   Jesus teaches us greater truths that go beyond our very real sufferings, losses, and pain. He says, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26). This mystery is the bedrock of our faith. These are words worth contemplating. As He asks Saint Martha, He also asks us, “Do you believe this?” (John 11:26)  Can we have faith to believe in Jesus even in the midst of our deepest pain, where He meets us in His own suffering? It is precisely there that God works miracles of resurrection and life.  May we have Saint Martha’s faith to answer with conviction, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world” (John 11:27). Relate to the Lord // Share any grief you carry with the Lord. Where do you need Him to bring resurrection and new life?

May 8, 2025 // Thursday of the Third Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 6:44-51 Reflect on the Word //  Within one week’s time, everything had changed. Instead of continuing with my training at the art academy, I found myself in a severe health crisis needing to start intensive treatments in a new city for the next several months. I had recently moved my entire life to apprentice under a master artist and begin my professional art career. I had trusted God in pursuing this calling, and at the moment when everything felt like it was flowing beautifully, everything fell apart. I didn’t want to spend all my time at a health clinic. I wanted to be back at the studio working alongside my fellow apprentices, not sitting in lengthy hours of IV treatments and spending each day going from appointment to appointment. “They all shall be taught by God” (John 6:45). God reminds us that first and foremost we are apprentices of Jesus. I had moved my life to train under a master artist, but God reminded me He is my Master and Teacher.  “Everyone who listens to my Father and learns from Him comes to me” (John 6:45). None of us want to attend the school of suffering or sign up for classes in patience and surrender. Yet each day of my treatment was a school of intimacy with the Lord. I wanted to be back in my drawing program, but God was drawing me closer to Him.  “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent me draw Him” (John 6:44). In our suffering, He forms us, shapes us, creates us as a beautiful work of His hand. He taught me to pray and come close to Him, offering every hour of treatment as an hour of prayer. God expanded my heart to Him as well as to the new friends I made in the people suffering beside me.  Life is full of unexpected tragedy. But acceptance and trust can be the means into deep, sweet intimacy and peace. Whatever the situation, let us enter the school of prayer. Let us apprentice under Jesus, listening to Him and hearing what the Father has to teach.  Relate to the Lord // Have you experienced intimacy with Jesus in sorrow or suffering? What did He teach you?   

March 17, 2025 // Monday of the Second Week in Lent // Optional Memorial of Saint Patrick, Bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 6:36-38 Reflect on the Word //  A friend of mine in college used to play a game in which anytime someone would compliment or express appreciation for something that she owned, she would immediately give that thing to that person. I learned of this game when I suddenly became the recipient of her Irish tartan scarf after having remarked how beautiful it was. Right then and there, she gave it to me, wrapping my neck in its cozy softness and bestowing me with a surprise gift that chilly autumn day.  Intrigued by this game, I committed to play as well. I winced a little the first time I gave away a loved sweatshirt,  but the fun of the freedom of giving was a joy in itself. It wasn’t too long before my new scarf made its way to another owner, continuing this joyful game of detachment. The game had its limits, of course, but my friend played with regular consistency. She had not only given away clothes, jewelry, and everyday objects, but she had also given joy and delight to so many people. The blessings were returned to her a hundredfold. Today Jesus shares with us the secrets of abundance. He commands us to “Give” (Luke 6:38). He tells us to “be merciful” and to “stop judging”  (Luke 6:36). In living a life where we let go of judgment, condemnation, and unforgiveness, and give mercifully and generously to those around us, our own lives become rich and overflowing.  Saint Patrick, whose Memorial is today, is our example in his generosity of his entire life to the teaching, conversion, and salvation of the country of Ireland. We can ask Saint Patrick to pray for us, that we would imitate him in asking God to guide us in how He wants us to walk our unique paths to sainthood. Maybe we are not called to be a missionary to Ireland or to give away our possessions to anyone who likes them, but then again, maybe we could consider expansive ways to give to the Lord and others with more generosity than we initially thought possible.  Relate to the Lord // Ask for Saint Patrick’s intercession to live with radical generosity today and always.

January 29, 2025 // Wednesday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 4:1-20 Reflect on the Word//  I lay back inside the hyperbaric oxygen chamber, one of the multiple treatments of my complex healing protocol, and took a few moments to pray. Will all this be worth something to You, Lord? This healing journey had already taken so much from me and it was taking all my mental, emotional, and physical strength to continue to go back day after day, week after week, appointment after appointment, trusting that these treatments that were making me feel so sick were also eventually making me well.   Would all this be used to bear fruit? my heart asked the Lord. I thought of the parable of the sower and the seed that falls on the rich soil, praying that something good could come from this season of suffering. Or would the graces hidden within these moments of suffering be eaten up, withered, or choked out by my own inability or refusal to bear this well (see Mark 4:4-9)? Jesus was definitely tilling the soil of my heart and preparing and planting something unseen within me.  Will all this be fruitful? In that season of full-time treatments, where I was not able to work or continue to move forward in my mission and calling, I often felt worthless and the whole situation meaningless. In faith I prayed,  Father, can You take every pain, every injection, every tear, every IV, every medication, every day, and every moment of mine and really, truly bring about an abundant harvest? I believe You can, Lord. Make my heart the rich soil, Jesus. I surrender this all to You. Thank You, Holy Spirit, that You cause the growth. Thank You that You use my seemingly useless weakness for Your glory. Give me a heart to hear and accept Your Word.  With Jesus, we can yield a harvest of thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold. May Jesus make our hearts the rich soil, prepared to hear and accept His Word, so that He can bear great fruit from what may seem to us like futile weakness. United to Jesus, everything can be used for His glory.  Relate to the Lord // What sufferings can you unite to Jesus today? Ask Him to make them fruitful.

“Now a man there named Zacchaeus, who [. . .] was seeking to see who Jesus was; but he could not see him because of the crowd.” // Luke 19: 2-3 I look up from my phone and feel shame as I see how much time has passed. My thumb scrolls through West Coast Swing dance reels and a photo of a toddler from a family I don’t know carrying carrots from a vegetable garden. I read an inspirational post of my friend-turned-life coach, and a famous billionaire tells me how to build wealth in real estate.  What am I seeking?  I see the ad for the hair care product I’m not yet using, another striking sculpture of the artist I want to study under, and I wonder if I could join those surfer girls on one of their trips to Nicaragua . . .  Like Zacchaeus in today’s Gospel, I can’t see Jesus because of the crowd (see Luke 19:1-10). Who are You, Jesus? I ask as I lay back on the mat in the medical clinic, shifting from numbing and turning to prayer, while I await my next treatment. Jesus invites me to come down. Everything has changed so quickly and health matters have humbled me so low. Jesus invites me to come down from even the good things that have been a support to me and the ways I’ve been climbing for success. In this moment, even in the discomfort, Jesus is passing by. In fact, He’s coming to stay in the home of my heart. I want to receive Him with joy.  And I feel so afraid of the suffering. I feel afraid to let go and feel the grief of the loss of what has already been taken.  But Jesus is passing by. He comes to seek and save me. Yes, Lord. I give You all I am and all I have. I don’t know what will happen or how this will unfold, but I’m ready. Teach me to see as You see and to love as You love. Welcome into the home in my heart. Come, stay with me.  Sister, where are you in today’s Gospel story of Jesus with Zacchaeus? What is the “crowd” that blocks your ability to see Jesus? How is Jesus seeking to stay in the home of your heart today?

“Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” // Luke 10:40 Lord, do You even care?? I cried out in my anguish. Do You even see me? Don’t You see that I have been left here alone? Help! The tears rolled down my face as my heart felt so much pain. Feeling so alone and with no one to help me, I poured out my heart to God in Adoration, even though not fully believing that He would come through for me. Martha, in today’s Gospel (see Luke 10:38-42), similarly shares her exasperation with Jesus. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me [. . .]?” Essentially, she’s saying two things: I feel alone in this and can’t do this on my own. And I don’t know if You even care or notice.  How often have we felt something similar? Especially if we feel the need to be the “good girl” taking care of everything and everyone and doing what is right. And yet, we often feel left alone, burdened from so much “serving.” But what if in those moments, we ourselves have left Jesus? What if the truth is that Jesus has not left us at all, but rather, that we have left Him by so much “serving”? We have been so busy doing what we think is right and doing what we think no one else will do, that we have totally missed that Jesus is right in front of us. Jesus is speaking to us, looking at us, and teaching us. Of course Jesus cares. However, do we care enough to pause, to let go, and to notice that Jesus is present before us—looking at us, loving us, and truly caring for us? May Jesus teach us when to serve and when to simply pay attention to His Presence here with us. Sister, where in your life is your busyness blocking you from seeing God right before you? Ask God to show you in a unique and personal way today how He truly cares for you. 

“No, for there may not be enough for us and you.” // Matthew 25:9 “No,” she told me, “because I won’t have any other day this week to just be at home.” She was speaking English, but I really didn’t understand. We had been planning a day and time to get together and catch up, and she was free on Wednesday. But since she was busy every other evening that week she said that was her only day to be at home and said no. I had never encountered anyone who had had free time in their schedule to meet, but then chose to fill it with rest and time at home instead.  And honestly, it angered me a bit.  Wasn’t I important? She was the one asking to meet up anyway. Why wouldn’t she give me her time? Like the foolish virgins in today’s Gospel (see Matthew 25:1-13), with lamps literally burned out, we women sometimes demand that others give us what we need in order to keep our own flame alive.  But the wise virgins who prepared themselves to have what they need say, “No, for there may not be enough for us and you.” And their no is valid. It is a proper response to choose to hold on and protect what one needs for one’s own wellbeing and for one’s own relationship with God. Like the response of my friend, no is often a wise choice. There are many things we simply can’t do for other people, try as we might. We can’t have a relationship with God for others. We can’t live someone else’s life for them. Each person has to nurture the oil of the Spirit and tend to the fire of God’s love within one’s own being.  May the Lord teach us the wisdom of no and find us ready and prepared, perhaps by taking some extra time this week to rest and be at home with Him.

“Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” // Mark 10:14-15 I take a moment to sit down and observe the children bustling around our Montessori classroom. James* takes notes on his paper, computing the math figures for the multiplication work. Angela is coloring an illustration of a story she wrote. She sings, “Jesus . . .  Jesus . . .  Jeeeesus,” in a sweet sing-songy voice as she works. Margaret and Anna sit across from each other at the snack table. An occasional spray and half-chewed apple piece drop to the table as they try to both eat and share stories.  My assistant has wiped both tears and a spilled bucket of water this morning. She helps Paul choose something new, showing him how to carefully take a bead and slowly string it on the shoelace. I notice the work mats have been heaped on top of the basket and the library books abandoned on the floor. The math corner will have to be re-organized this afternoon. I pause and look into the Atrium, our room for Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, and see the catechist light a candle for a small group of boys around the prayer table reading a Scripture card. Our life together here is not perfect, but it is beautiful. “Whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it” (Mark 10:15). Am I welcoming the Kingdom in my own life like a child? Do I welcome the Kingdom in my work, in my tears, with my friends, in my need for help, in all I am learning, and even with a song to Jesus? Do I welcome the Kingdom with joy? That’s what I learn the most from the children—to live in joy. Despite the mess and occasional chaos and spills and emotions, there is love and learning here, but most of all joy. And it comes from our connection with Jesus.  Today will you let Jesus see the little girl inside of you? Will you let Him hug you and hold you and bless you? What might happen if you let your own heart come to Him? (*All names above are changed to protect privacy.)

Lent starts February 14, and so does the RESCUED Blessed is She Lent devotional. This year, you’ll be receiving an excerpt from the Lent devotional every day in your inbox (in lieu of our regular daily devo). We want to pray with one heart and one mind as the BIS sisterhood. If you prefer to have the book, purchase the 2024 Blessed is She Lent devotional RESCUED right here. Right upon purchase, you’ll receive a link to come into the free Blessed is She app to walk through the Lenten season with us in daily live prayer, small groups, and more. Together let’s look to the Lamb of God who came to rescue each one of us.   “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith. // Mark 6:4-6 “No it’s not!” My four-year-old self yelled at my older brother. “It’s the same, and you can wash your hands with it!” I stubbornly insisted, refusing to agree with his differing stance. For some reason, my young little mind had decided that the goat’s milk moisturizer my mother had next to the sink in our farmhouse kitchen was a beautiful alternative to hand soap. My brother tried to school me that the two are different, but I would not hear it.  “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place” (Mark 6:4). Whether in humorous situations of a young child refusing to accept the truth that lotion is not used for cleaning purposes or in serious conversations that matter—our family members can sometimes be the most closed to hearing the truth of what we say, or we ourselves refuse to listen to what they share with us. But the question is not whether we are listening to older brothers so we stop using the fancy moisturizer to wash our hands, but rather, the real question is whether we are hearing Jesus speak His truth into our lives so that we may truly be cleansed and healed. Our insistence in believing what we think we know, rather than opening in faith to the ways God is leading us deeper, blocks Jesus from doing His mighty deeds in our lives.  Faith is the gift that softens our hearts to be receptive, opens our minds to accept what may feel difficult, and strengthens our wills to choose to take the steps forward with God even in uncertainty. In that beautiful surrender and trust, God can work.  May we never be so blocked by lack of faith that Jesus is only able to perform the minimal in our lives and moves on to others who are more open.  Consider truthfully: How are you blocking God’s work in your life? What do you need in order to soften and receive? What is your next step to move forward in trust and faith as Jesus does His work in you?

You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever. // Psalm 16:11 She looked at me with love and with tears in our eyes, she shared a tender congratulations for all the work I accomplished. I hadn’t achieved anything external, but rather the internal accomplishment of deep inner work resulting in peace and freedom I hadn’t known was possible for my heart to feel.  She had walked with me. Each week we had met, and with her mentorship, step by step, I moved through some of the rawest and deepest pain. She supported me, challenged me, and shared with me parts of her own story that gave me hope that I, too, could experience the joy she now lived. I couldn’t have done it alone. I needed her presence. I needed this support from my beloved mentor and friend who had become another mother to me.  Today on the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, we honor Mary, our Blessed Mother, who is a woman who knows suffering well. She is with us in our darkest hour and, in Jesus, she can mentor us, challenge us, and guide us to the heart of the Father, our source of all healing and love. Our crosses do not have to end in fruitless pain. We can be brought into new life, sometimes in ways that may surprise us.   Perhaps our own mothers, or other spiritual mothers have been there for us in dark and painful moments along our journey. But, even if not, today let us remember our Mother Mary, who with Jesus, leads us along the path of life, bringing us to the fullness of joys with God forever (see Psalm 16:11).

Run so as to win. Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. // 1 Corinthians 9:24-25 He called it “Run for Fun,” but there was nothing fun about it. It was everybody’s least favorite day in gym class. Every Wednesday, our grade school P.E. teacher would make us run laps around the soccer field for the entire hour. On other days we played dodgeball, or softball, or soccer, or capture the flag. But on Wednesdays, we ran. There was no choice, no option to sit out, and we all hated it. Our teacher never told us why he made us run or gave us a purpose for doing it. It was not for training or to get us in shape or help us play better in the other sports. There was nothing fun about “Run for Fun,” just aimless, purposeless running until the bell rang and we would be finally saved. Our earthly experience can sometimes feel like discouraging, empty, and seemingly pointless running around without an end in sight. But the truth is, we are made for a purpose, and all our sufferings can be used for good to win the imperishable crown of Heaven. When we keep this spiritual perspective, even the most mundane and simple experiences of our life can have meaning. And sometimes, even within the challenges, we can find elements of fun. Where in your life do you feel like you are purposelessly running to no end? What would it look like to keep your eye on the prize and offer your experiences to God, with confidence that He walks beside you? What is your next step to take towards the goal that you feel God is calling you to? [bctt tweet="We are made for a purpose. // Mary Catherine Craige" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose; Beside restful waters he leads me; He refreshes my soul. // Psalm 23:1-3 I took a moment to pause, sitting on the bench beside the lake as I watched the geese waddle into the water. I felt the sunshine on my face and noticed a breath move through my body. The dogs and I had just walked a new trail through the woods that opened around these calm waters. Since moving, I had been missing the rolling waves of my ocean back at home as life had quickly changed for me. Now in a new city, navigating chaotic traffic and constant busyness, it was important to find the places where I could experience beauty and nature and rest. “Good Shepherd, lead me, Good Shepherd, guide me” had been my simple prayer throughout these months of uncertainty, transition, and adventure. Not always knowing what to do, I took what felt like the next step, praying that God would lead me. I felt peaceful beside the lake. Not all my prayers had yet been answered, nor did I know how things would unfold, but the Lord was guiding me. And in these few moments of rest and seeking His presence in His creation, I felt my body relax and a swell of gratitude rise from my heart. The Good Shepherd wants what is best for us. He is fully capable of leading us out of darkness and into peace. Are you inviting Him to guide you? Are you letting Him lead you and guide you? This will give you the peace and rest and refreshment your soul is seeking. What is your next step to take with the Good Shepherd by your side? With God, how can you take action today into the direction you know you need to go? [bctt tweet="The Good Shepherd wants what is best for us. // Mary Catherine Craige " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear. Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.” // Matthew 13:16-17 At first glance, my Montessori classroom appears chaotic. I hear children talking loudly—almost yelling. The new, young girl dumps an entire bucket of water on the floor, a group of boys distract the girls with silly jokes, another child breaks down in tears, and an inquisitive one has dropped the entire alphabet box. Hundreds of letters now cover the carpet. But if I pause and really observe, I also hear a girl joyfully singing a love song to Jesus that she makes up as she illustrates a few lines of the story she just wrote. Despite the noise, a boy is lost in concentration as he works to find the right place for each piece of his geometry work. The group of boys dissipates as a couple notice the water spill and show their new classmate where to find the towels and mop. They give her a lesson on how to clean up with greater precision, gentleness, and patience than I would. My assistant helps with the alphabet box as the child looks up and smiles. Looking through the window into the room for catechesis, another young child is still at work with the Good Shepherd material. He calmly and peacefully moves the figures, enjoying his time of prayer and work. “Lord, give me eyes to see” was frequently my prayer as a Montessori teacher, imploring God to change me from the blindness of my impatience in order to see the truth of the beauty happening all around me in the children God had blessed me to serve. Where in your life has God blessed you to see and hear the mysteries of God? Whether in your faith life, travels, motherhood, ministry, work, or personal life experiences, God has allowed you to see and hear His treasures in special places. May we have eyes to see. Jesus, open our eyes to see and our ears to hear. May the truth of what we have seen and heard always give witness to You, our Word of Life. Amen. [bctt tweet="“Lord, give me eyes to see." // Mary Catherine Craige " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” // Matthew 8:19-20 I needed to be out of my new apartment in two days. The company I was renting from had let someone else book the place where I was living, despite the fact that I had sent multiple messages over the previous month stating my intent to renew. I had received no response from them until the last minute when they told me I needed to move out. It was their mistake. They admitted it was their mistake, and yet they still did nothing to help me. Alone and unfamiliar in this new, big city, I had to pack up and be completely unsettled yet again. I had no idea where to go or where I would find a place to rest my head. The pilgrimage of life can feel deeply unsettling. Circumstances can shake our sense of grounding and make us question if there is any place we belong. It is comforting to know that Jesus understands our unrest and also experienced this in His earthly life. Eventually, I found a new place to settle, but not without significant stress and used-up patience. With fervent prayers, some decisive action and vulnerably accepting help from new friends in the local Catholic community, God resolved the situation and brought me to a place that was an even better fit. We need to remember that we are made for Heaven. Our experience on earth is a journey, a path forward towards our true end of eternal happiness. Ultimately God is our home, the place where we belong. How can you come home to God, even during experiences of chaos and unrest? And perhaps, in your prayer today you could allow Jesus to find a place to rest His head within your heart. Rest in Him as He rests in you. This kind of contemplative prayer can offer you great peace. God, thank You for being my home and place of rest even in the unsettling experiences of my life. Be my strength and stronghold. Guide me, Lord. Come and dwell always in my heart. Amen. [bctt tweet="We are made for Heaven. // Mary Catherine Craige " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion