When he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance." // Matthew 3:7-8 Two things come to my mind when I read Matthew’s Gospel: 1. I don’t think I would’ve given Saint John the Baptist the time of day simply because of how he dressed or how he called people out. 2. I fear boldly proclaiming the truth like Saint John. This might come as a surprise since I don’t necessarily beat around the bush with my words. However, when it comes to praying in front of a Planned Parenthood, posting something about my Catholic beliefs on social media, or sharing the truth so someone can avoid or repent from sin, I often go silent. I fear being rejected and how I will be perceived. There is a massive difference between Saint John and me, I mean, besides our fashion choices. John sees the urgency behind calling people to repent for the sake of their salvation, and I worry about how someone will attack me and my beliefs. John’s desire for the Pharisees and Sadducees to repent and believe in the Gospel was as important to him as each person who came to him for baptism. I probably wouldn’t have called them a “brood of vipers” in hopes that they would repent and be baptized. I evangelize by building relationships that lead to speaking the truth rather than calling someone an offensive name. However, his urgency and words had a purpose. Salvation was at hand, and he had to prepare the way to Christ! As bold and audacious as John was, he also showed great humility, and humility is the answer we need to share truth without fear. When John says he is baptizing with water for repentance, but the One coming after him is mightier and will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire, he reminds us, in all humility, that passionately shared truth is an introduction to Christ’s love and mercy. Some will accept that introduction and be led to Him. Others will reject that introduction and walk away. Sharing the truth may result in people walking away from you, but the sad truth is they are walking away from God. Rejection of God should break our hearts. It’s a rejection more severe than any perceived judgment we will ever feel on earth. This awareness should cause us to pray harder, speak the truth with humility and love, and not fear rejection or judgment from others. [bctt tweet="Rejection of God should break our hearts. // @socaltriciat" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” // Matthew 9:37-38 Have you experienced the effects of the labor shortage in our current post-pandemic world? Retail, manufacturing, hospitality, health care, and education are just a few of the industries experiencing significant staffing shortfalls. Labor economists continue to analyze the supply chain woes and the painful pinch of inflation. Doom and gloom fills the news cycle. In today’s Gospel, we catch a Biblical glimpse of another labor shortage. We see how beautifully Jesus’ Heart became attentive to the distress of those around Him. Our Lord could have said, “All right everyone, we are completely short staffed right now, so I need all of you to take on extra responsibilities and work double shifts. We will get the job done if everyone just works harder and longer. No complaining—you can do it!” As frustrating as the current economy may be, we must remember that the Kingdom of God operates in a radically different way. The supernatural life of grace is at the heart of Kingdom living. Jesus instructs His disciples to directly ask the master to send out more workers. There are no supply chain issues in His Kingdom! The King of Kings and Lord of Lords has an endless supply of resources, and He simply desires for us to ask Him for more. This is the heart of intercessory prayer, dear sister. We need to be courageous and bold in our requests. Let our generous Father in Heaven lavishly pour His love into your heart. Go to Him in prayer and imagine how His Heart is moved with pity for the current suffering in your life. He sees all the ways that your particular heart feels troubled and abandoned. Our Father knows how to communicate His love to you in a way that you can understand. Do not be afraid to ask Him to provide more laborers for His harvest. God is faithful and desires to shepherd you into a supernatural life of grace, hope, and joy. [bctt tweet="He sees all the ways that your particular heart feels troubled and abandoned. // Rose Coleman" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But they went out and spread word of him through all the land. // Matthew 9:31 The pink plastic frames slightly pinched behind my ears. I wriggled my nose, trying to get used to the new feeling of having glasses. I looked at my mom, and she looked down at me. She didn’t look too different. In fact, most of what I saw in the doctor’s office looked about the same, except now I could read the posters on the far side of the room. I was appreciative of the improvement, but it wasn’t until I was outside that I was amazed. The trees were totally different. The leaves no longer looked like clumps of green; now there were thousands of individual little leaves with hundreds of thousands of little dips and rounds and points creating their edges. And the grass! The grass was not a solid carpet of green, but millions of little green blades, dotted with three leaf clovers and small white flowers. My seven-year-old self stood in wild wonder at all the intricacies I had missed because of my poor eyesight. So I chuckle at Jesus telling the formerly blind men, “See that no one knows about this” (Matthew 9:30). How could they?! Were they to pretend they were still blind? Were they to lie to their loved ones? Were they to save every gasp and startle inside their hearts as they hid the wild wonder they must have felt at all the intricacies they had missed? The Church Fathers suggest that Jesus asked them to not share about their healing because He did not want worldly fame, but for all glory to be pointed to God. I’ve met so many Christians whose lives are different because of their relationship with Christ. That difference cannot be ignored or overlooked, and so word of Him spreads throughout the land. What difference is your relationship with Jesus making in your life? What would you want it to make? [bctt tweet="What difference is your relationship with Jesus making in your life? // Bonnie Engstrom" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.” // Matthew 7:24 On a chilly, Sunday morning in December, we had just finished listening to the end-of-Mass announcements when we heard loud and clear from the back of the church: “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” My newly two-year-old daughter stared in horror as a strange man in a fake beard waved at her and invited her to “Donuts with Santa” after Mass. Following the crowd into the social hall, I brought my daughter to say hello. She took one look at him, gripped me tighter, and burst into tears. I came into motherhood full of enthusiasm. Those first few Christmases, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. We left our shoes out for Saint Nicholas. We put on pajamas, drank hot cocoa, and watched Polar Express. We lit the Advent candles and set out our Nativity scene. We baked cookies, cut out paper snowflakes, and sang carols at a nursing home. We shopped, crafted, and trimmed the tree. We were busy, and I was tired. A decade into this mothering journey, I’ve simplified a bit, doing only that which brings us particular joy or peace. One such thing is the Jesse Tree, a beautiful tradition that allows us to take a slow, deep dive into Jesus’ family tree, remembering the beautiful Jewish roots of our faith, and seeing the thread of God’s faithfulness throughout. This slow savoring of Scripture challenges us to be holy, to act in love toward those around us, and refocuses our scattered attention on the great mystery of the Incarnation. If your life feels like the inside of a snow globe as the holiday busy-ness swirls around you, sister, slow down. Listen to His word and obey. You will not be shaken. [bctt tweet="You will not be shaken. // Elizabeth Blanke" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“At once they left their nets and followed him.” // Matthew 4:20 I tap my fingers along the steering wheel. A barrage of thoughts, plans, and to-do lists run incessantly through my mind. Spinning me out of the present moment. Enabling me to settle for avoidance, rather than contemplation. The Lord is here, but I am not. I am distracted and in a hurry. But then I hear the endearingly raspy and boisterous voice of my son. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see him pointing out the window, gap-toothed smile on his face. “Mommy look! The sky is so blue!” This simple phrase halts everything. All the thoughts, plans, and lists evaporate from the forefront of my mind, and I look at the sky. I do not remember the last time I truly looked at God’s creation. The last time I reveled in the beauty that surrounds me. A vast blue miraculous sky. “It is so blue and beautiful.” My son nods enthusiastically, and, in his dazzling eyes, I see that his soul is light and free from the shadows of doubt and distraction. My little boy is present. He is a child, and he is delightful. I take a deep breath and pray, “Lord, You are here, and so am I.” Sister, I am often tangled in the net of distraction. Struggling and impatient. And maybe you are too? But amid our fruitless wrestling with all the demands that we place on ourselves, Jesus simply looks at us with love and asks us to drop our nets. He invites us to see. He invites us to be. He invites us to follow Him. [bctt tweet="He invites us to follow Him. // Leana Bowler" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike.” // Luke 10:21 It was all hands on deck when I first moved back home to take care of my mom. My brother and his amazing wife were living with Mom temporarily. I was more than happy and honored to be extra hands and act as Mom’s cheerleader, cook, beautician, housekeeper, driver, gardener. Mom was dealing with grief over my father’s sudden death and recovering from two surgeries and a long stay at the hospital. The days were intensely packed. And because Mom needed so much care, I hardly noticed that I did not have a rhythm. I prayed at irregular hours, and we went to Mass at different times according to appointments and other needs. Although I welcomed the change of pace as a learning experience, I eventually somehow realized that waking up a few hours before Mom so I could pray set the whole day on a solidly even pace. I grew to cherish these still hours in the morning before the sun came up. The silence was free from pings of texts, whirring cars, and there was almost no threat of a phone call. Advent is the Lord’s gift to us. This holy season we have just begun is like the early hours of a great day. As we look ahead to celebrating the birth of Christ, Our Love and Lord, we can imagine the tiny light peeking over the horizon and gently starting to pervade the sky. Sister, the King of Mercy is coming. He is coming for your heart. He is coming to bless you in new and abundant ways. He wants your blessings to overflow to your family and community. The key is to become little. In this holy season, we contemplate how God Himself chose to become a little Baby, and Jesus prays in the Gospel today, “I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike” (Luke 10:21). May Our Blessed Lady help us to enter Advent with setting our fears and pride aside to step anew into littleness—life in Christ. [bctt tweet="Step anew into littleness. // @srmariakim" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” // Matthew 8:10 *trigger warning of miscarriage* I prayed over my belly through the tears and the cramps, “Lord, I believe You are able. If You will it, restore life to my baby.” I prayed with humility and with faith. And yet, unlike the account in today’s Gospel, my prayer and my faith were not enough. The bleeding continued, and the ultrasound later confirmed nothing was left of our first-conceived babe. The grief of those days was palpable. I felt guilt, confusion, and an overwhelming amount of sadness. And yet, I didn’t let myself feel my sentiments toward the Lord. I was avoiding His gaze. The elephant in the room that I did not want to address was, “Why did You not hear my prayer and work this miracle?” Many would have us believe that the lack of a miracle is a sign of a lack of faith. Yet that is not always the case. When we look at the centurion in today’s Gospel, he did not rely on the strength of his own faith for a miracle. Instead, he relied on Jesus. He trustingly brought the matter to the Lord (Matthew 8:5) and submitted it to His wisdom and power. Our Lord responded simply, “I will come and cure him” (verse 7) even before He praised the magnitude of the centurion’s faith (verse 10). Can we hand over to the Lord our needs and intentions in this same way—to trust in Him? Not looking to the greatness of our faith as a means of entitlement to signs and wonders, but instead, asking Him to work according to His wisdom, not our own. More than our faith, perhaps it’s about submission to His sovereignty. I pray today, sister, that your heart will be filled with an overwhelming sense of this sovereignty and provision in your life, even when it is beyond what your mind can understand. Jesus, I believe in Your power, in Your wisdom, and in Your sovereignty over my life. Have Your way. Amen. [bctt tweet="Ask Him to work according to His wisdom. // Rocio Hermes" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I rejoiced because they said to me, “We will go up to the house of the LORD.” // Psalm 122:1 One purple candle was lit on the enormous Advent wreath in front of the ambo. The lector stood in the cold, morning church with her arm raised, and she stared out at the congregation while we incorrectly mumbled the refrain. Without a missal to guide me, I relied on lyrics of a 90s praise song based on the same Scripture, tucked way back in the recesses of my mind. “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go unto the house of the Lo-o-o-o-ord!’” The chorus of daily Mass goers was fairly monotone, but in my head the refrain was super punchy, just like we sang at youth group all those years ago. In my teen years, it was just a fun song, almost silly, and I was not at a place of spiritual maturity to understand what I was singing. I looked joyful then, but it wasn’t connected to the actual words I was singing. As an adult, though, I shifted in my seat and checked my heart while I looked around the church. We did not look joyful, murmuring over our scarves and with arms folded across our chests to help keep us warm. But I knew, without a doubt, that all of us there knew joy in the deepest, truest way. All of us had suffered, and all of us knew the sweetness and the joy of a life lived with Christ and His Church. Some day may we all joyfully enter the House of the Lord in Heaven, but may we all joyfully find Him here and now in the waiting. [bctt tweet="Find Him here and now in the waiting. // Bonnie Engstrom " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.” // Luke 21:34 Wake up, make breakfast. Get kids ready for school. Someone’s crying. Make sure to remember the three extra things a kid needs today. Someone can’t find their shoes. Did I pay that electric bill? What’s for dinner? An unexpected call from a friend. Is it already time for bed? How many days do I find flying by because of the unending list of things that need to get done in a day without being able to even pause for a moment of prayer? It feels like too many, especially upon hearing the words of Jesus today. The anxieties of daily life do feel like too much. Too much for my heart. Too much for what I have to give. The anxieties themselves may be small in the grand scheme of the world and in comparison to much else, but the sheer quantity of them builds upon my heart. These anxieties have the same effect on the spiritual life as the numbing of drunkenness: they take away the ability to be receptive to the daily grace that Jesus wants to give us. Too often I can assume faith is another box to check on the list of all the things to do in life. But Jesus is calling us to reverse this way of thinking, not to live our faith by fitting it into our busy lives. He invites us to orient our lives so closely to Him that we live prepared for Him to come again, be it when we die our earthly death or when He returns. Lord, Jesus, help me today to release my anxiety over my daily tasks and to be attentive to the grace You offer me in the present moment. * professional help for anxiety is a blessing if you feel you need it! [bctt tweet="Live prepared for Him to come again // Christy Isinger " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest, in which she puts her young. Your altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God!// Psalm 84:3 She tells me about her dreams as we sit beneath the light of the stars. Smiling and roasting her marshmallow above the crackling fire, she wears her favorite oversized sweatshirt and dirty sneakers. She is my daughter. Almost a teenager, effortlessly lovely. And on this night, she tells me her hopes and dreams. The ways in which she is dreaming with the Lord and her words, spoken with excitement as she thrusts her hands towards the night sky, invite me into her beautiful reverie. She gives me the courage to ask, “Where shall we go, Lord?” Courage to seek Him without shaking steps, but rather my feet grounded in the earth, listening intently as I follow His voice. In this moment, I am reminded of the hopes He has placed in my heart. I am reminded to hope and to dream. What are the longings of your heart, dear sister? Have you forgotten them? If so, I invite you to remember. I invite you to raise your hands high in praise for the God Who loves you and hope. The Lord is with you. He is nourishing you and strengthening you. Go where He has called you and do not be afraid. Share your dreams with Him and surrender them to His immeasurable love. You are free to fly, sister. Free to fly upon the steady grace of Your Savior. [bctt tweet="Go where He has called you. // Leana Bowler" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

In all circumstances, give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. // 1 Thessalonians 5:18 The incessant chiming dragged me from my blissful slumber. I groaned and rolled over to silence the alarm, heavy with fatigue. As I mentally began wishing the day away, a quick nudge from the Holy Spirit stopped me. Right. Hi, God. Thanks for waking me up today. Help me offer it all to You. I slid my feet toward the floor, headed for my closet, when pain shot through my leg. No! Not today. I sucked in a sharp breath and clenched my teeth. My joint disease had been more manageable the past week; I didn’t have the time or energy for another flare up. Again, I checked myself. Thanks for the good days, Lord. For this sanctifying suffering today . . . even though I don’t understand it. Please use this pain for good. And so it went throughout the day. Overwhelm at my packed schedule was softened by a prompting to be thankful for my husband, family, and ability to still work. Annoyance while stuck in heavy traffic shifted to gratitude as I beheld the morning sun glinting off the majestic mountains and breathed, “Oh! Thank You, Lord!” Weariness over my bland, restrictive diet was checked by the chance to thank God for the blessing of food and the means to buy it. A spiritual director had long ago encouraged me to thank God for everything—especially in difficulty—even if all I could muster was gratitude for what hadn’t gone wrong that day. A slow shift had occurred, despite my deeply ingrained and seemingly infinite moments of grumbling. I noticed the whisper of grace more often in response to my headstrong protests. Teach me how to be more grateful, I’d pray. Day by day, He did. Day by day, He can for you too. Ask Him for the grace of gratitude, especially in the hardest circumstances. Thank Him—even for the suffering, and even when you don’t feel like it or understand it. Slowly, your difficulties will become infused by God’s upholding grace. Slowly, you’ll begin to understand that all is a gracious gift from Him. And ultimately, even your most difficult moments will be ruled and redeemed by Love Himself. [bctt tweet="Thank God for everything. // Megan Hjelmstad" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives." // Luke 21:17-19 I imagine myself standing in the crowd. Jesus paints a pretty grim picture. I will be persecuted, handed over by my friends and family, betrayed, and maybe even put to death. And yet after a litany of abuse He predicts that I will endure, He concludes that not a hair on my head will be destroyed and that my perseverance will secure my life. Would I have followed Him? If I had been in that crowd with sandals on my feet, standing in the dusty earth? Would I have left to go home? Or would I have remained? If I knew that following Him would bring pain, would my faith in His divine power and the promise of everlasting life be strong enough? Most of us are not asked to proclaim the truth of Jesus before kings or governors. We live in countries and communities where we are free to practice our faith. It is easy to pray behind closed doors and worship in peace and privilege at open churches. But when we are asked to walk outside our comfort zone and take risks with our evangelization, how do we respond? I faced this in my own life in the past few years. When I was first invited by my diocese to host a podcast, I admit that fear almost kept me from turning on the microphone. When I was asked to write my first book, my discomfort with opening my heart to strangers threatened to keep the thoughts carefully locked in the computer file. Each time I am asked to speak, I still worry that someone will think what I say is unworthy of their time. But when I say yes to my calling to evangelize, what dies each time is my pride and in its place my humble trust in the Lord grows. Following the Lord comes with risk, but when we aren't willing to risk our lives for Him, it is our eternal life that we risk losing instead. Are you ready to take the risk? Will you remain with Him? [bctt tweet="Following the Lord comes with risk, but when we aren't willing to risk our lives for Him, it is our eternal life that we risk losing instead. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, “All that you see here–the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” // Luke 21:5-6 I adjusted the swim suit again in the mirror. Maybe the romper part of it didn’t look as bad as I had anticipated? Maybe I could wear this while balancing the baby in the pool and not look like . . . an almost forty-year-old mom of five? Who am I kidding? It was an old lady swimsuit. I tossed it over my chair. I glanced in the rearview mirror at pickup, thinking maybe a hat could remedy my hair situation. The last time I had washed and brushed it out was . . . maybe three days ago? But as I reached for my straw hat, I realized the baby had squeezed his food pouch all over it as we drove to school. A greasy mom-bun would have to do. I wiped mascara off my eyelids, wiping and patting to ensure I didn’t look like a total raccoon the next day. It caught in the extra creases under my eyes, a soft catch-all for my late nights reading and early mornings making school lunches. I should have watched that suggested makeup tutorial. The temple in Jerusalem was adorned with costly stones as we hear in today’s Gospel. I’m sure it was gleaming and glorious. Yet even this place of worship would be torn down, as Jesus tells us, “there will not be left a stone upon another stone” (Luke 21:6). I have spent a fair chunk of my time in this precious life worrying about my external appearance. Am I stylish enough? Am I smiling sufficiently? Do my thighs touch too much? Have I spent the same amount of time worrying about the condition of my soul? Am I charitable in thought? Am I available in prayer? Am I seeking God’s will in action? Maybe instead of worrying about how we look, we can all agree that our bodies, while beautiful in their own way, will and are decaying, but it’s the beautiful mystery of our immortal souls that lives on. Meanwhile, we will have to wait for glorified bodies for the end of time at the resurrection of the body (see Catechism of the Catholic Church § 997). Let’s take off the filters, get to Confession, and let go of controlling what we look like on the outside. Jesus wants to transform us radically, starting with healing us from our sins. [bctt tweet="Jesus wants to transform us radically. // Nell O'Leary" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.” // Luke 21:3-4 It’s been three months since my uterus ruptured. Three months since the blood transfusions and the emergency c-section and the week-long hospital stay. And sometimes the passage of time feels impossible. Because that day still lingers so deeply in my body. The incision still aches, and my head still throbs from the lack of blood. Yet, babies still need to be rocked in the dead of night, and big kids still need to be cared for at the break of day. And it’s often in those daily humdrum moments that I truly feel depleted. The moments where the needs of everyone culminate and consume my tired and broken body. They are the moments I am stretched to give a little more and called to love a little stronger. Today’s Gospel reading about the poor widow is a reflection of these sorts of moments. It is a reminder of our call to give. And sometimes our gifts aren’t monetary at all. Sometimes our “two small coins” are the daily sacrifices we make for the sake of the Gospel. It is rocking an infant in the dark while your eyes long for sleep. It is helping an aging parent get through their final days. It is making a meal for a neighbor while illness ravages her household. There are many ways we are called to give and many sacrifices we are asked to make. And it is in these sacrifices that true grace is found. So, dear sister, what two small coins do you have to offer today? [bctt tweet="It is in these sacrifices that true grace is found. // Brittany Calavitta" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." // Colossians 1:17 My friend, Beth Davis, often talks about her "life verse." Her life verse is that one piece of Scripture that is woven throughout her story and ultimately sums up the character of her relationship with the Lord. I have never really shared mine because it seems too elementary to be worth sharing, if you know what I mean. However, my life verse has always been Colossians 1:17, from today's Second Reading. "He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." Most Sundays since I can remember, I have sat at Mass alone. I can close my eyes and see my fifteen-year-old self sitting up near the altar at my home parish in Arizona. I carry a ten-pound journal because I cannot stop writing about grief. I feel deeply rejected by this one boy in an overwhelming "life must be over now" way. My parents have divorced, and it seems my world is falling apart. Yet, when the host is raised during the consecration, I will bow and say to myself: He is before all things, and in Him, all things hold together. I can close my eyes and see my eighteen-year-old self sitting near the back of the crypt of the Basilica in DC. Without the security of my home parish in Arizona, I feel this gaping hole at my core. I am scared my desires for community will go unresponded to. I worry I will not feel understood again. Yet, when the host is raised during the consecration, I will place a hand over my stomach, and I will know: He is before all things, and in Him, all things hold together. I can close my eyes and see my twenty-two-year-old self sitting near Saint Joseph at a church downtown. This time, I believe, life really must be over now. I got dumped, again, but it seems like an unrecoverable, unredeemable grief that no ten-pound journal could save me from. I remember though, as the host is raised during the consecration, and I believe it fully: He is before all things, and in Him, all things hold together. Do you believe this, sister? Pray with it today. [bctt tweet="He is before all things, and in Him, all things hold together. // Sarah Elizabeth" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

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

All the people were hanging on His words // Luke 19:48 Have you ever felt like someone was simply out to disturb your peace? Have you ever known a soul so dead-set on making your life miserable, frustrating you to no end, causing drama in your life—for seemingly no reason at all? I had a co-worker once who perfectly fit this description in my life. For most of us, it is difficult to forget this person if they are a part of the past and strenuous to deal with if they are part of the present. Now imagine being so close to Christ that this person’s attempts to bring you down were utterly futile because you constantly chose to hang on the words of Jesus. This is akin to what transpires in today’s Gospel. The chief priests, scribes, and leaders are totally unable to accomplish what they wish to do because the people are “hanging on his words” (Luke 19:48). So when it comes to your interactions with this person, choose words of Christ to hang onto so this person cannot accomplish what they have set out to do. Let the words of Christ be an immovable anchor for your soul. Here are more of Christ’s words to hang onto when others set out to bring us down: “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). “Has no one condemned you? . . . Neither do I condemn you” (John 8:11). “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). In these trying relationships that may be a part of your life today, hang onto the words of Christ with such fervor that those who set out to steal your joy, destroy your peace, or make your life miserable simply cannot. [bctt tweet="Let the words of Christ be an immovable anchor for your soul. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion