Blessed the man who fears the LORD, who greatly delights in his commands. // Psalm 112:1 When I entered a Blessed Sacrament chapel for the first time in my life, I was trembling with fear. I asked myself, “What if that is just a piece of bread? Either it’s truly Jesus and I ought to kneel in adoration, or the people in this chapel are participating in a blasphemous form of idolatry, displeasing the one true God. There is no middle ground.”  I turned to Jesus in silent prayer. Lord, You know my heart, that I have sincerely tried my best to obey You in everything. If this is idolatry, please keep me safe from sin. And if this is Your Real Presence, fill me with Your peace and teach me how to worship You as You desire. God does not want us to be afraid to trust Him, yet our Responsorial Psalm today reminds us that there is also a healthy Fear of the Lord (see Psalm 112:1-2, 3-4, 5-6). It’s one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit given to us at Baptism and strengthened in Confirmation. This reverent fear keeps us safely obedient to God’s commands of love.   Imagine yourself standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, filled with awe and delight at the beauty of creation. Are you not also aware of your littleness and vulnerability? In such a scenario we know the reality of the unchanging law of gravity, so we’re careful to stay on safe footing—perfectly happy to do so. Similarly, when we fear the Lord in a healthy way, we are happy to obey His commands, knowing we are safe under His unchanging law of love. In today’s Gospel the unjust judge has neither fear of the Lord nor respect for people, and ironically, he ends up fearing what the widow might do if he doesn’t dole out justice to her (see Luke 18:1-8). Sister, when have you been aware of the gift of the Fear of the Lord in your own heart? Do you delight in His commands? Where is God calling you to keep on seeking justice, believing in faith that He hears your pleas?

“They were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage up to the day that Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all.” // Luke 17:27 I’ve got to admit there are often times that I procrastinate in my spiritual life.  I’ll start going to monthly Confession next month. When I have some extra time in my schedule I’ll start going to Holy Hour.  I’ll do a daily Rosary when my kids don’t wake up so early. I’ll start reading Scripture every day after my new schedule starts.  These are all the thoughts I tell myself when I feel the gentle nudges of the Holy Spirit calling me to spend more time with God.  The opportunities for procrastinating and making excuses for why I choose not to devote more time to prayer are really limitless. There are so many ways to distract myself, or to keep believing other things are more important and pressing than making the time and concerted effort to actually pray.  Christ’s words in today’s Gospel (see Luke 17:26-37), however, should give me the reminder I need to make better choices. Christ is telling us that His second coming could happen at any moment—there will not be news bulletins telling us to get our lives in order. We will not be given a time or date. Things will look like they’ve always looked, in our own busy lives and in the chaos of the world around us. Of course, the second coming may be the end of time as we know it, but our own death may come at any time as well, with or without warning.  Christ does not give us a timeline of when we need to change our lives and live the commandments He has given us. He is telling us today that every single day should be lived as if the end is near, not because we should be afraid, but so that we can live a full and blessed life. The time to make a change is now. Is there one small way you feel the Holy Spirit calling you to deeper devotion and prayer? Can you make the choice to put that into action today?

“For behold, the Kingdom of God is among you.” // Luke 17:21 I took the key out of my purse and opened the door to my home. With a defeated sigh, I closed the door behind me. It was another date and another dead end.  When I was single and felt the clock ticking, I wanted nothing more than to get married and start my vocation as a Catholic wife. It was a holy desire, but I was getting frustrated and tired of waiting. It was difficult for me to accept that at that moment, my vocation was to unite myself to God and serve the Kingdom in my singleness instead of obsessing about when I’d get married.  Thankfully, I survived that time and found a deeper love of God and my husband. I was overjoyed, but soon I couldn’t wait until my vocation as a mother would start. However, dealing with problems conceiving, secondary infertility, and miscarriages reminded me again to stop obsessing about when will this happen and instead embrace where God had me at that moment. It wasn’t easy, but four children later, God used that time to strengthen me and grow His Kingdom in ways that I have yet to realize.  In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees were looking for the Kingdom of God, but viewed it in a worldly sense, expecting a mighty king with political authority who would vanquish their enemies. They didn’t understand the spiritual and supernatural nature of it when Jesus said, “For behold, the Kingdom of God is among you” (Luke 17:21). Sometimes we get preoccupied about the future and what is to come, even in a seemingly good sense of wanting to build the Kingdom. Or we have a vision of how things should be, like the Pharisees, and miss what is right before us. Most often, God moves in the ordinary moments of our lives. Is there an area of your life where you are missing God’s presence? Lord Jesus, open my eyes to see Your presence in my day. Increase my humility and charity so I can build Your Kingdom in all the circumstances of my life. I love You. Amen.

Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life. // Psalm 23:6 The sanctuary is darkened. Men, women, and some children fill the pews; some sit, some kneel. Many candles are lit on, around, and leading up to the altar, where shining most brightly sits the beautiful golden monstrance. In the center, Jesus is present to us in the Eucharist. We are there to spend time with Him in a special evening of Adoration—what a blessing.  Tonight I have the honor of helping to lead worship with my voice. That the Lord would give me such a gift of an opportunity humbles me.  As the evening draws closer to the end, we begin a song that has been a blessing for me in the years since I first heard it. It’s called “Goodness of God,” and the lyrics sing of the Lord’s faithfulness. The song builds to the bridge, and the melody rises up from the depths of my heart: “Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me.” This beautiful line repeats multiple times, and tonight I can’t help but smile as I lift my voice to the Father. I have sung this song before (most often in personal worship sessions with the Lord while driving in the car). There have been days when I admit the lyrics, closely tied to the verse from Psalm 23, do not feel true. I have struggled to see Him working in different seasons, and it is then when I have sung this bridge through tears, declaring truth over my life, proclaiming God’s goodness over my circumstances.  A powerful act of faith, worship through music has been a tremendous gift to my heart, one I pray also brings some small consolation to the Lord. When we lift our voices in worship, we show Him our love, we express our gratitude. Find some time this week to sing to Him in thanksgiving of all He has done for you, sister. His goodness and kindness know no bounds. Thank You, Jesus. 

Take delight in the Lord, and he will grant you your heart’s requests. // Psalm 37:4 This is such a sweet verse from today’s Psalm, right? It almost reads like a fortune cookie message. It’s encouraging, tells me to take action—delight in the Lord—and promises a reward: my heart’s desire. Yes, please, and thank You!  God does not disappoint when it comes to delighting my heart. I love morning walks, when I see beautiful sunrises and low fog creeping across the corn fields down the street. My shoulders will relax, I exhale deeply, and I audibly praise God for the beauty and gift of the morning. Beyond the morning’s beauty, it can be a real challenge to delight in the Lord in the midst of everyday annoyances, suffering, and dryness in prayer. When I chose this verse to write about, I texted my friend Joann. “Talk to me about delight in the Lord,” I practically demanded. I wanted to hear from her what practicing delight looks like, to round out my admittedly slightly saccharine experience. After a deeply painful loss in her life, she’s relearning to delight in the Lord’s will. “Having [my son] safely was pure delight and healing [. . .] but unveiled areas that I wasn’t delighted in the Lord.” She shared how God continues to heal, little by little, as she surrenders her heart to Him. “He created my heart for wholeness, so of course my heart’s request (whether I know it or not) is for repair and restoration,” Joann shared.  Embracing the Lord’s will over our own is the only way to find what we seek. As Saint Augustine famously wrote in his Confessions, “Our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.” Not even the most brilliant sunrise, the most physically pain-free day, or the most powerful prayer will fulfill our heart’s request. Only God will satisfy. The Lord desires only what is good for us, which is what will make us holy and draw us to Heaven. Let’s pray today for the courage to surrender more to Him, to delight in His will and allow Him to make us holy.

And the apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” // Luke 17:5 Sometimes when I read the Gospels, I look at the Apostles’ responses to Jesus and think: Gosh, they remind me of my middle schoolers! How many times have I delivered what I thought to be a brilliant lesson on some key doctrine of the Faith and then look expectantly and excitedly for my students’ reactions. What questions will they have? How will they react? Will the discussion go the way I think it will? Then, it happens, I ask, “Any questions?” A hand goes up; I call on the student and hear, “When’s the test?” In those moments I can practically picture Peter asking Jesus the same question after the Sermon on the Mount. Are they listening at all? In today’s Gospel, though, the Apostles overcome their inner middle schoolers and get it right! They hear what the Lord presents to them, recognize that the weight of His sayings are beyond their capacity to truly receive, and cry out to him in prayer, “Increase our faith” (Matthew 17:5). It heartens me and gives me strength to do the same when I also find it hard to be a disciple of Christ. Sister, let us call out to Jesus today to increase our faith as we seek to follow Him more closely and grow in our capacity to receive all to which He invites us: When we find it hard to follow You, increase our faith. When confusion leads us astray, increase our faith. When doubt takes hold in our hearts, increase our faith. When life is filled with many questions and few answers, increase our faith. When pain becomes a constant companion, increase our faith. When Your words strike us to the heart, increase our faith. When we lack confidence in leading others to You, increase our faith. When we do not know the way to You, increase our faith. When we doubt Your merciful love, increase our faith. When You call us to surrender, increase our faith. When we question Your desire for our good, increase our faith. When our faith is smaller than a mustard seed, increase our faith.

“For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.” // Mark 12:44 We would barely arrive and already my cousins would crowd the car and empty everything out of the trunk. Every inch of the car was stuffed, the only space being where we were sitting. This trip always felt like part mission and part fun.  My mom would spend the whole year saving items to take to family in her hometown of Magdalena, Sonora, Mexico. Toiletries (she would collect my toothbrushes from when I would go the dentist), clothes that I outgrew (yes, she would pass them on to my aunt), goodies from Christmas baskets people would give to our family (yup, she would make sure to share that as well). Nothing was out of the question—one year she took a refrigerator because the one my grandparents had broke.  As my grandparents have passed and my mother has aged, she doesn’t personally deliver as frequently anymore. My frustration of always having to give away my clothes and seeing my aunt wear them has turned into a point of humility and gratitude rather than embarrassment. I understand the heart behind the giving. I understand that my mom would have taken everything to her family, because—although separated by a border—her love has no bounds.  Now as a widow of seventeen years, she continues this work with her neighbors. If there's something that my kids have outgrown, she remembers the grandmothers from her old barrio whose grandkids could use the clothes, gently worn shoes, or extra school supplies. She packs up her car and takes the time to distribute the items accordingly. Every time, she shares how much she loves seeing the faces of gratitude. She feels like Santa Claus—but on a smaller scale—because while it's not anything new, it's given with a lot of love.  Sister, do you give love away easily? Do you find creative ways to give without counting the cost? Let's open our hearts to a greater type of love. One that knows no bounds and doesn’t want anything in return.

"Take these out of here, and stop making my Father's house a marketplace." His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me. // John 2:16-17 “I started doing this and everything changed . . .” As my finger swipes video after video, I am bombarded with posts on social media telling me how to hack my self-care routines. How to eat, how to exercise, how to relax, how to make friends, how to have a good work/life balance. This past year especially, I’ve fallen into the trap of the “how-to” rabbit hole. As a new college grad struggling to adjust, I tried implementing so many of these tips and tricks that “work wonders” until I reached the point of fatigue. As the noise grew, my ability to hear my own needs faded.  One year after graduating college, I sat down and honestly asked: What does it actually look like to care for myself?  Friend, don’t let the noise of the Internet be louder than the voice of your Father.  God cares for you deeply. He wants you to be healthy, joyful, connected, loved, and whole. He literally wants to dwell within you and bear much fruit. Scripture makes this clear in today’s Second Reading: “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16) And in today’s Gospel, Jesus proclaims boldly that the dwelling place of God is not a place for selling, marketing, and reckless spending. It is a place of glory, worthy of being cared for as such. Saint Paul declared that we are the dwelling place of God. Therefore, zeal, or eagerness, to take care of ourselves—God’s home—should consume us! (see John 2:17) But it’s not the online “marketplace of ideas” that gets us there. In relationship away from the noise, God guides you and me specifically towards the next right step each day.  Maybe it is what you eat or how your work life needs to change. Regardless, with all of our different circumstances, gifts, and weaknesses, there is no universal life hack. There is no quick fix you can buy. All you need is an eager heart to heed the voice of your good Father every single day.

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. // Philippians 3:20 Two years ago, I went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and participated in a leadership course for two weeks. To say this was one of the best trips I’ve ever been on would be an understatement.  It was such a gift to be in the place where our Lord actually walked, grew up, and taught. And even more, it was a privilege to be with the group of young women I was with. Over thirty of us came together from nine different countries as strangers and left as sisters. We shared such deep encounters of the Lord and lived those two weeks with so much joy. I still look back at all my memories with delight. But after I left, I felt so sad, and I longed to be back there with them.  It wasn’t my home, yet I felt so homesick. How was that possible? All I wanted was to go back. I felt like I belonged there, like it was a foreshadowing of heavenly joy.  Sister, do you ever feel that way about Heaven? Longing to be home with our Creator?  Although our time on earth has its joys and beauties, it can often be filled with sin, suffering, and darkness. It is uncomfortable, dirty, and temporary. This is not our home.  Our ultimate home is with God in Heaven.  In today’s First Reading, Saint Paul reminds us that our citizenship is in Heaven (see Philippians 3:17-4:1). Our citizenship as believers is in Heaven. Our eternal home is in Heaven with the Lord.  Is your heart longing for home?  It is easy to be discouraged in the waiting, but stand firm in the Lord. Don’t let the temporary pain of life on earth pull you away from the joy of what’s coming. Stay close to and rely on the Lord, and He will sustain you in this life. Live in His joy here and remember your destination.

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest,” says the Lord. // Matthew 11:28 (Alleluia verse) I swiped a tear from my cheek as I removed the last few items off my desk and nestled them carefully into the packing crate. Beside the pens and the witty office memes that had once wallpapered my space (courtesy of my fun-loving cubicle mate) lay the framed photo of Jesus that I always kept close.        I sniffled quietly. Why are you sending me back, Lord?   The warmth and safety in His eyes pierced my questioning heart and offered a ray of peace in the midst of sadness. Still, I wrestled with what this meant.   Five months. That’s how long I had been working at a different office branch while my regular work building underwent extensive renovations. What was estimated to be a two-month project ended up taking more than double the time. And in that time, the slower pace and family-like atmosphere of my temporary assignment served as a refuge and a shelter when I needed it most. My energy picked up, my health improved, and the excessive tiredness that often left me slogging through the workday was gone. I also laughed. A lot. Honestly, I hadn’t realized how burned out I was until my heavy burdens were lifted.   But now, as I prepared to leave, the avalanche of all that awaited me came barreling in.   Let Me be your Bethany, I later heard our Lord whisper to my heart.  In his book 33 Days to Greater Glory, Father Michael Gaitley writes this: “The house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus in Bethany was something of an oasis of peace and joy for Jesus. He deeply loved the family there, and their home became the place that the Father specially prepared for His Son to strengthen and console him...”    Clearly, Bethany was the safe haven where Jesus found friendship, hospitality, and shelter. How beautiful that in the tenderness of His Heart, He offers all that and more to us (see Matthew 11:28).   Sister, if you find yourself aching for respite from the heaviness of work, motherhood, or ministry, rest in Jesus. His love is the only Bethany we’ll ever need. 

But, even if I am poured out as a libation upon the sacrificial service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with all of you. // Philippians 2:17 “Mama, when are we going to buy new bikes?” “Mama, what are we having for dinner?” “Mama, he hit me!” “Mama? . . . Mama! . . . Mama?” I was standing in our new house, surrounded by towers of boxes and drywall dust, trying to unpack while staying out of the way of painters and contractors. In the midst of chaos, somehow I was still responsible for parenting my children. I was stretched thin, trying to accomplish the gargantuan tasks in front of me. Trying to model and cultivate virtue when life gets busy is no small feat. I feel, as Saint Paul says in today’s First Reading, like I am being “poured out” (Phillippians 2:17) I fold laundry, make dinner, allow myself to be interrupted so I can listen to the happy chatter of a tween or the unintelligible babble of a toddler. I gently draw my kids back to order when our family prayer time starts to unravel in distraction. I read stories, give hugs and kisses, teach them to pause and notice beauty. I take them to Mass. In all of these ways, I pour out my life willingly at the service of their faith. I teach them to face every task, every challenge, every one of life’s circumstances, with rejoicing. Where is your life being poured out? Do you feel resentful and depleted? Or do you approach the daily grind of your life with gratitude and rejoicing? Each task that is required of you today is a step on your path to Heaven, and Jesus is with you.

Brothers and sisters: Have among yourselves the same attitude  that is also yours in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. // Philippians 2:5-6 There was a wooden sign in my grandma’s kitchen which stated: “Thou shalt not whine.” I’m not sure where it came from or why she put it there, but my cousins and I knew that our complaints wouldn’t change her mind. We needed to change our attitudes.  Years later, I still notice times when I need to change my attitude. I know what I should do, but I am not always sure how to do so. Saint Paul unlocks this mystery for us as he describes the attitude of Christ Jesus in today’s First Reading (see Philippians 2:5-11).  Jesus humbled Himself, knowing His identity before the Father. This identity as the beloved Son formed His every decision. He trusted in the Father’s provision with complete surrender. Jesus emptied Himself, putting aside the powers of His divinity while uniting Himself to the frailty and weakness of our humanity. He became so small and followed the laws of human growth.   Jesus took the form of a slave, attentive to the needs of each person before Him. He planted, plowed, and harvested in His Father’s Kingdom.   Jesus obeyed His Father, knowing that He must dwell in His Father’s house with joyful surrender to the Father’s will. He let the Father provide for His every need.   Jesus offered Himself on the Cross, knowing that all the misunderstanding, confusion, and pain could be offered as a gift to His Father. The Passion and Cross always lead to the glory of the Resurrection.   This model of humility, emptying, submitting, obeying, and offering is how I can live my life united to Christ’s life. Jesus, please give me the grace to have Your same attitude, especially when I am tempted to have a bad attitude. Thank You for Your offering of Yourself for me.

Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid.” // 1 Kings 17:13 The heat in the kitchen is rising. It must be coming from me because I am fuming. Where is the thyme?! All I need is thyme! There is a play on words there, but I can't find the humor. How are we out of this too? My normally well-stocked kitchen seems rampaged now that my older sons are cooking multiple meals a day. I re-alphabetize the spices. Still no thyme. I let out a frustrated growl. Keep perspective, I remind myself. I can change the plan—again. Take a breath. What is this really about? Control. My world has been turned upside down lately and I am afraid. There is too much outside my control.  I pray out loud: “In the name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of perfection and control and invite the Lord’s grace and peace and protection. Lord, make me docile to your spirit. Let my home be a place of laughter and love.” Do not be afraid.  The poor widow in today’s First Reading was resigned to starvation. What a horrific place to find oneself, preparing the last meal for yourself and your son. I can’t even handle running out of an herb. Elijah tells her, “Do not be afraid,” and instructs her to make the last of the food she has and share it with him (see 1 Kings 17:10-16).  In my fear of the unknown, I grip tighter to the little things I think I can control. Then I spin wildly when little things don’t go according to plan. But the Lord wants more for us, His sweet daughters. He desires we enter into each day with sufficient trust in Him. Trust that He will provide us with our daily bread and that our jars and jugs will never run empty. This doesn’t mean we won’t experience frustrations or struggles or tough times. He simply asks us to trust and to believe in His goodness. Do not be afraid. Where are you holding fear? How is that fear preventing you from trusting more deeply in the Lord? 

“And 'to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself' is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices." // Matthew 12:33 Years ago, our parish priest shared something in his homily that changed my life forever:  “Love inspires more than the law requires.”  At the time, I was a young, tired (happy!) mama who took offense at a great many things. I don’t know why; life was wonderful but also challenging. And I just found myself feeling annoyed with people a lot of the time.  These words that Father shared from the pulpit really got my attention.  If I had the love of God overflowing in my heart, then I could be more patient and more loving and more generous—not simply with my time but with my heart. In that season, where I really didn’t have extra time for much, I recognized that generosity of spirit and demeanor was something I could offer to Jesus.  Love inspires more than that law requires. Love your neighbor as yourself. This is worth more than burnt offerings and sacrifices. And so for me, from then on, I started to seek kindness and love. Instead of entertaining petty thoughts in the school parking lot (the car pick-up line is not for wimps!), I tried to focus on love. It took some rewiring, to be honest. I was in the habit of agitation.  Choosing love was a new concept. God gives us direction because He knows what is best for us. While I was following all the rules in my life, God had more in store for me. The Lord wanted to offer a deep joy and freedom that really only comes from love. As explained in today’s Gospel, to love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, I needed to learn to love my neighbor as well (see Mark 12:28b-34). It’s not always easy—dealing with people can be messy indeed. But this is where we grow! We grow in heroic charity and virtue. I love that our Heavenly Father offers us the chance to flourish in ways we could never expect, when we are willing to follow His lead and do whatever He asks. Ask the Lord to show you how to love better today.

[Y]et is their hope full of immortality; chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of Himself. // Wisdom 3:4-5 “Blood of Christ, freeing souls from purgatory, save us.” The familiar prayer passed my lips—part of a litany I prayed daily—and as usual, several people came to mind. Family members, military friends and classmates who’d died from combat or other tragedies, parishioners and community members, unknown souls with no one to pray for them. I lifted them to the Lord’s merciful Heart, and hope softened my grief-filled remembrance.  The Church teaches that prayer is the greatest gift and help we can offer deceased souls in purgatory. As the Catechism says, “Those who die in God's grace and friendship imperfectly purified, although they are assured of their eternal salvation, undergo a purification after death, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of God” (CCC § 1054).  It’s good to remember that even if we love God and have sincerely repented of grave sin, we might still be attached to lesser sin or worldly things when we die. Jesus tells us that the pure of heart will see God, and most souls need some degree of purification before entering Heaven (see Matthew 5:8).  Because souls in purgatory cannot pray for or purify themselves, they depend on God’s mercy and our prayers and sacrifices. While purgatory is a place of great suffering because souls see how their earthly attachments have separated them from God, it’s also a place of great hope because these souls will one day be with God forever as saints—guaranteed.  Today on the feast of All Souls, and during all of November, our Church invites us to remember and pray for these souls in a special way. You can pray the Eternal Rest Prayer,* visit a cemetery to pray for souls, or have a Mass offered. These simple practices can be an especially powerful help as an indulgence.  No prayer is ever wasted, and your prayer—your act of love—may be the key that helps open the gates of heaven today to a precious soul!  *Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen. 

“Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” // Matthew 5:12 Have you ever had a Saint whom you are certain follows you around?In fourth grade, I had to present a historical biography to my class via a conversational tea party. I randomly chose a book from our public school library, skimmed it, and faked my way through the project. Year later, a friend had an image hanging in her dorm of Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha —the random person I had (barely) done my assignment on, yet had no idea was Catholic, let alone on her way to canonization. After graduating college, I encountered her again via a year of service working in a predominantly Native Alaskan community where we celebrated the official canonization of Saint Kateri Tekakwitha, the first indigenous Saint of North America. She continues to show up in unexpected moments and I’m eager to see where I will encounter her next. Time and time again I am floored by the witness of the Saints and the way we encounter them in our lives. Today, on the Solemnity of All Saints, I am struck by the variety of characteristics listed in the Sermon on the Mount. We hear Jesus name ways in which those willing to work for the Kingdom here on earth will be rewarded for their sacrifice in Heaven (see Matthew 5:1-12a). The numerous traits mentioned are reminiscent of the multitude of unique stories shared in the lives of the Saints. And the not-yet-canonized ones we celebrate today have stories we do not even know!There is no one-size-fits-all in regards to achieving sainthood. You don’t have to be a renowned theologian or a perpetually praying religious in a convent. You don’t need a huge social platform or gaggle of children you’re raising at home. You could be any of those things or none of those things. Your holiness is not dependent on your state in life, but rather your love and obedience to the will of God.Let us give thanks for the diversity found in the Communion of Saints and their prayers for us as we journey towards Heaven, striving to do God’s will. All you holy men and women, pray for us!

Therefore, put on the armor of God, that you may be able to resist on the evil day and, having done everything, to hold your ground. // Ephesians 6:13 My confirmation Saint is Joan of Arc, so I love the metaphor of battle when it comes to the spiritual life. But too often I mount my horse on my own command, armed with my own strength, ability, and will.  Those things wear out rather quickly.  And in the battle against temptation, sin, and distraction, I can become discouraged by defeat due to my own pride. This is not the kind of battle the Lord desires us to fight. He intends to fight with and for us. In this spiritual battle, we are often on the defensive. And we should be! But too often we forget that we have been given power through the Holy Spirit and we operate by His strength. So we don’t have to flee in fear but we can engage in battle because of our confidence in the Lord.  Saint Paul speaks in today’s First Reading (see Ephesians 6:10-20) about defending our most important parts with the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness, and the girdle of Truth.  He then calls us to battle offensively with two things: feet shod in the Gospel of peace and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Our offensive weapons have only to do with what God says. We don’t rely on our own opinions of ourselves, our own theories, or our own schemes. We rely on the Word of God and the message of the Gospel.  We move forward, then, in peace, because the declaration of the Gospel is that the battle has already been won. Our battles can be all-consuming, especially when we cower or try to fight by our own power. The clamoring metal, shouting, and confusion can overwhelm us. But we can fight in peace. We are more than conquerors through Him Who has loved us.  What “weapon” of Saint Paul’s armor do you need to engage in this battle today? Name it and ask the Holy Spirit for it. Then wield confidently the words of Sacred Scripture (today’s Responsorial Psalm 144 is a perfect place to start) for they are absolutely true and undefeated.