July 8, 2026 // Wednesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 105:2-3, 4-5, 6-7  Reflect on the Word //  Her gaze was penetrating as she held my face with her hard-earned wrinkling hands. We were in public, yet I felt no discomfort. She wanted to communicate something to me, a message beyond the ability of words. She had just finished telling me a story from an earlier chapter of her life, sharing about an experience that deeply shaped her and moved the trajectory of her future years. Her look’s intent was to transmit a lesson that she wanted to be sure I comprehended. Her final words to me were, “There’s always more. We have a great deal to look forward to after this life.” In that moment, this woman imparted a word of hope to me, a reminder of the end for which I was created. Her intent gaze revealed to me that the Father’s gaze constantly invites me into “the ever-more.” We are called to respond, just as we hear David exclaim in today’s Psalm: “Seek always the face of the Lord” (105:4). God’s look of love beckons, and He desires to receive a response of love from each soul He created, each soul whom He knows. Each one of us is awaited in the gaze of Christ—the icon of the Father, the second Person of the Trinity, true God and true Man.  Saint Thérèse of Lisieux was known for her devotion to the Holy Face of Jesus, a devotion she learned from  her own beloved sister. In her Canticle of the Holy Face, Thérèse prays, “Your Face is my only Homeland.” May this be the constant prayer of my own heart.  We are all invited each day to recall the wonders of the Lord and to live our lives glorifying Him. The gaze of Christ invites each of us to reorient our own gaze to the fundamental call of our lives: union with Him, the One Who thirsts for us to enter into the eternal Presence of the Holy Trinity. Relate to the Lord // Pray Saint Thérèse’s Canticle of the Holy Face today. 

April 22, 2026 // Wednesday of the Third Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 8:1b-8 Reflect on the Word // The bells in the gable clinged and clanged. The ringing sounds drew our gaze upwards to the Assisi skies, where the Crucifix, perched atop Santo Stefano church, beckoned for us. We turned a corner and descended the Umbrian steps, inspired to enter and led to pray. Walking into the Church and proceeding down the long center aisle, we found a wooden bench to sit on. One of my sisters excitedly turned to the rest of the group, proclaiming her love for Saint Stephen. She went on to recount the profound story that Stephen’s death was met with great reverence by our Lord, Who rose from the throne of grace to welcome His first martyr into eternity.    As the people buried Stephen and lamented in today’s First Reading, he was being welcomed into the halls of Heaven by the Son of God. Meditating on his entrance into the heavenly banquet, I imagined Jesus bestowing him with the crown of martyrdom. There was a profound sense of Stephen’s joy in that moment. He was consumed with zeal for the House of the Lord and was given the gift of being able to testify to Christ the Way, the Truth, and the Life with his own life. The witness of Stephen’s life and death galvanized the early Church to preach the word and proclaim Christ to the world. Saint Stephen galvanizes me to do the same. His witness rouses me to remember that the way of the disciple demands the entire gift of ourselves, not to our detriment but for our good. In this total surrender and preoccupation with the Glory of the Lord, our lives become a living yes to the One Who Loves us and awaits us.  Saint Stephen reminds each of us that we are made to live in the gaze of Christ, where our eyes remain fixed on Heaven as we travail through this valley of tears. His witness strengthens us, calling to mind that death does not have the final word and that we are longed for in that place where there is “great joy in that city” (Acts 8:8).  Relate to the Lord // How can you say yes to Jesus today?

October 24, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Anthony Mary Claret, Bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Romans 7:18-25a Reflect on the Word //  My feet were aching, and my body was worn. The altitude hit me, and I felt dehydrated. “What am I doing here?” I found myself yelling this aloud with the ridgeline in sight, soon after arriving at a false summit. Every step up the mountain was painful. I tried resisting the wind’s force to look ahead and see how much farther ahead my friends had gotten. Swallowing the remaining droplets of my water bottle, I realized that the only way forward is further up, and I resolved to keep going. Beginning again, my heart revealed my fear: It’s too much. I can’t do it. I called out for help, and the couple I was with stopped and came back for me.  They came for me. They found me stuck and stopped dead in my tracks. My pack was at my feet to give my back some reprieve, and they carried it for me for a mile’s stretch. With electrolytes and encouragement in tow, we pressed ahead together and finished the 13,000-foot hike.  As the burden on my back grew lighter, I reflected on my noble aspirations and the desire for the higher things. Stuck in the mire of misery and self-sufficiency, I realized that I can’t achieve great things alone. I can’t muscle my way up to the summits of a 13,000-foot hike, much less the summits of eternity. I need help. I am a creature, a beloved daughter of the Father Who made me dependent and in need of community, dependent and in need of Trinitarian communion.  How often do we find that we are like Saint Paul in today's First Reading, knowing what is right and failing to do it? He says, “For I do not do the good I want” (Romans 7:19). We know self-reliance is not the right course of action. We are tempted to “go it alone” for reasons as varied as the means by which we attempt to prove ourselves, though. In His severe yet tender mercy, the Father reminds us that our worth lies in being loved by Him. All that He asks is that this truth be shared.  Relate to the Lord // What burden are you trying to carry on your own? Who can you share it with today?  

June 16, 2025 // Monday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 5:38-42 Reflect on the Word //  Silverware clanged against the plates, and leftovers were scraped into the kitchen’s tupperware. Dinner had just finished. The resident first grader was recounting tales of his school day to me in the dining room when his mom called out to him to clear his place at the table. As she began the third reminder, his younger sister wobbled to him and put her hand over his mouth. His face turned red in rage. He reached out to cover her mouth, hitting her cheek instead. A cacophony of screams began to resound through the house, and his father ran over. Separating the two children from one other, he shouted, “What is going on here?!” The child yelled, “She hit me, so I hit her!”  Society’s norms declare that “an eye for an eye” (Matthew.5:38) is the right response to injustice. Jesus even begins today’s Gospel reading with an affirmation that these rules of retribution have been oft-repeated as the law of the land. However, He goes on to proclaim, “But, I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil” (Matthew 5:39). This saying provokes a visceral response: How could any reasonable person let one get away with such an offense?! It seems unfair that someone who intentionally seeks to harm should not be met with resistance or penalty. And then, we remember that Jesus knows what it is to be unjustly treated, having been the One Who gave His tunic, walked the extra mile, and gave all the Father asked on His Way of the Cross, all so that we could be forgiven.  In our fallen nature, relationships are ruptured and offenses occur. We, who when left to our own devices constantly strike one another’s cheeks, maintain the dignity of being the Father’s beloved daughters. And so, Jesus saves us. He invites us to acknowledge the hurts and make space for forgiveness within our hearts. He desires that we repair our relationships and return to the family of God. He reminds us that it really is possible that all things are made new.   Relate to the Lord // Where do you need Jesus to make all things new? Ask Him to come.  

December 31, 2024 // Optional Memorial of Saint Sylvester I, Pope Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 1:1-18  Reflect on the Word //  The folding chairs creaked as the group of freshmen turned around to the sound of the altar cloths shuffling. The monstrance was lifted by the priest who began processing down the makeshift aisle. His way was lit by the vigil candle and a headlamp adhered to the pillar, spotlighting the place that was prepared for Jesus in the Eucharist to be exposed. We sang the hymn “O Salutaris Hostia” as knees young and old alike fell to the ground in adoration of the One Who “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).  We knelt before Him, each hoping that He would break through the reality of life. In this late evening Holy Hour on freshman retreat, students and chaperones alike beheld His glory, begging to be enlightened by He Who is the True Light. Heads were bowed down and the confession line grew. We lived in the hope that He would conquer the darkness and dispel the recently identified lies within our hearts with the truth of His love.  During that time of Eucharistic Adoration, Christ proved again that He does, in fact, desire to dwell among us. Amid the lies and walls each of us had acquired to protect ourselves against the growing darkness, the Word broke through and made a new world that could only come “to be through Him” (John 1:3).  Jesus extends the same invitation to each one of us. He dwells with us in this moment today, the Word Made Flesh, present to you in the Words of the Gospel. As we pray with the Word, we can offer Him the lies that have built up around our hearts and look for the Light that desires to consume the darkness.  All that He asks of us is to receive Him, to let Him.  In the darkness, He reminds us that He is always with us. If we come before Him in Adoration and in His Word, surrendering to the light of His love, He gives each of us the power to know ourselves as He knows us—beloved children of the God Who makes all things new. Relate to the Lord // Ponder the Gospel passage again; consider the way the Lord looks upon you with love.

I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you. // John 13:34 (from the Gospel Acclamation) Horns were honking as people semi-confidently walked into oncoming traffic. We stepped out, hoping against hope that our guides’ recommendations on how to navigate the streets of Calcutta were actually true. There was a palpable urgency in the air. We entered the chapel of the Missionaries of Charity’s motherhouse for morning Mass, prayer, and a light breakfast together before we were commissioned from the motherhouse to serve alongside the Sisters at the various and precarious sites of their apostolates. Each of us found ourselves eager to meet those we were tasked to love. Our group arrived at Kalighat, a home for the dying and the destitute, and then donned our aprons as directed. Descending the stairs, we entered the living area and were stunned. In various corners of the hall, residents were impoverished, dying, and in need of care. Each of us were initially assigned to one or two residents at a time: feeding them, dressing them, changing them, or simply combing their hair. Day in and day out, we would live this rhythm. The residents came to know our faces as we came to know theirs. We lost sight of who was the one tasked with caring for each individual person as serving became a mutual act among all of us, and we shared life together. We learned that receiving Christ’s love impels us to not only give Christ’s love but to receive it as well. Today, I challenge each one of us to find our own Calcutta and realize that the corner of the world that we are in is the opportunity He has given us to love and be loved. May we come to realize that everything really is all gift meant to be given to others in return of receiving.

“[A]nd we saw his glory.” // John 1:14 (From the Alleluia Verse) We had been walking for what felt like months. It was June in northern Spain, and the Camino de Santiago we had been making a pilgrimage along began to take its toll. The noonday sun finally having faded, we went in search of rest and rehydration. After multiple failed attempts, we found a church with unlocked doors. Our group sighed in relief, leaving behind the worn path, and going in search of quiet side altars and water fountains. Walking through this beautiful church, we all gravitated towards the same side altar depicting the Trinity gazing upon the Blessed Mother as she tenderly held the Christ child.  In this church, we found refuge. We wondered and wrestled with the newly discovered questions that met us along the Camino: What does a yes to Him actually mean? What will it cost? Will He provide? Will there be joy?  And in the home of this church along our way, that also is the Church, Mary took me to Jesus, and I recognized Him to be the answer to the questions of my life. Resting at the feet of and under the maternal gaze of our Lady, I surrendered to Jesus. I asked her to say yes for me that day in a way that I didn’t know how to do myself. Minutes later, the priests who were traveling with us processed in to celebrate Holy Mass for us weary pilgrims, and we beheld the glory of Him who became flesh for us, giving Himself to us again in the Eucharist. Today, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Annunciation when God became Man and dwelt among us. In a particular way, we are reminded of the grace available to us in claiming our Lady’s fiat, her assent to the redemptive work of the Holy Trinity. Like her, may we ponder God’s mysterious workings in our lives through prayer and surrender, trusting in His will of love for us. May we open our hearts to Him, so that He can make His home in us.

On that day, Jesus went out of the house and sat down by the sea. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat down. // Matthew 13:1-2 After the mad rush of trying to find a parking spot in downtown Denver, we walked into the Cathedral, looking for an open pew. Despite the Gothic Cathedral being dimly lit, you could feel that it was nearly full. Finally having found a few open spots, we sat down and breathed a sigh of relief that the busyness of the coming days could not reach us in this place. Having settled into our seats, I saw a light coming through the stained-glass window on the western wall of this beautiful church, an image of Mary. This moonlit image of Our Lady broke through the darkness, inviting each of us present into a moment of beauty and rest, a gift of peace. Minutes later, the candles processed in with the light of Christ and the moonlit icon was eclipsed by the radiance of her Son.  Every year on this date, we honor Mary under the title of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, patroness of the Carmelite Order whose foundation is claimed to have begun on Mount Carmel, a mountain overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, a place of beauty and peace. And even though it is liturgically the Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, we can still remember this devotion to Our Lady of Mount Carmel on her Feast of July 16.  I invite you to take time and rest with Mary this Sunday. Gaze upon her heart and ask her to show you what it means to live a life dedicated to the Heart of God. Invite this tender and beautiful Mother into your own earthly pilgrimage. Let her help light the way of the precarious climb as you continue ascending the great mountain, finding your peace in intimacy with the Triune God. Let Our Lady of Mount Carmel show you today what it means to live in the sanctuary of your soul, a place reserved for God alone and set apart from the busyness of life.  “O most beautiful Flower of Mount Carmel, Fruitful Vine, Splendor of Heaven, Blessed Mother of the Son of God, Immaculate Virgin, assist me in this my necessity.” (Flos Carmeli Prayer)

After Jesus had revealed himself to his disciples and eaten breakfast with them, he said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” // John 21:15 We had all just finished dinner, and I was talking afterwards with a Sister of Life. As we were talking, one of Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity’s letters came up where she mentions Saint Peter in today’s Gospel passage, excerpted today for you below: He tells you: “Let yourself be loved more than these! That is, without fearing that any obstacle will be a hindrance to it, for I am free to pour out My love on whom I wish! ‘Let yourself be loved more than these’ is your vocation. It is in being faithful to it that you will make Me happy for you will magnify the power of My love. This love can rebuild what you have destroyed. Let yourself be loved more than these.” (St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, The Complete Works, Volume 1, page 179). Jesus encountered Simon again because He loved him. The Risen Lord desired to redeem his threefold betrayal during His Passion with this threefold conversion merited by His Death and Resurrection. On that seashore, He reminded Simon, Son of John, of his identity as Peter. In His Presence, Simon Peter was loved by the Love that knows no end. Christ Our Savior, remind each of us of our identity like You reminded Simon of his as Peter. Save us from the idols and distractions that take our hearts’ gaze away from You. Give us the grace to let Your love permeate our lives so that we may find rest in Your invitation and joy in Your mission to us: “Follow Me” (John 21:19).

“Go home to your family and announce to them all that the Lord in His pity has done for you.” Then the man went off and began to proclaim in the Decapolis what Jesus had done for him and all were amazed. // Mark 5:19-20 There was a memorial service on a Friday morning in March. As we entered the hall and took off our winter jackets, the song Amazing Grace was just coming to a close. A friend and I sat down, prayed, and then opened a program to preview the upcoming eulogists and speakers. Nothing could have prepared us for who was to come next. The sound of high heels began to click on the linoleum floors, and a small, yet mighty, woman made her way to the podium. Her confident presence was palpable even as she adjusted the podium stand. She then took to the microphone and began to testify to the power of God. This woman proceeded to share her conversion story, reliving the moment she was ‘saved in a grocery store.’ As she told her story, she powerfully reminded all those gathered that no one is beyond the saving power of God and that He desires to raise His people from the graves of sin. She courageously preached this word of faith to a community of people who knew the tombs she used to dwell among (see Mark 5:3) before that moment in the grocery store. This disciple of Christ was boldly proclaiming and courageously witnessing to the God Who “makes all things new” (Revelations 21:5) to those who knew who she once was. She stood in her reclaimed identity as a beloved daughter of God, and she spoke as one who knew the mission Jesus had given her to testify to what He had done for her. Listening to this woman speak, I could sense she lived in the power of the Spirit, the Power that pulls apart chains and smashes the shackles of sin and death in our lives. In the Gospel of Mark 5:4, we see a contrast between the physical chains which restrained the man under the possession of Legion, but he broke out of, and the chains of sin which Christ freed him from. What chains of sin are holding you back from God? Bring them to Him today. Jesus, You are our Savior and our Redeemer. Give us the grace to never forget what You have done for us. Strengthen us, so that we may testify to Your Resurrection in our lives. Make us witnesses of Your Saving Power. Make us new. Listen to today's audio devotion.

During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them, walking on the sea. // Matthew 14:25 Have you ever felt like you are drowning? I remember having one such moment, where reality felt like a series of crashing waves created to disorient me. Life got to be too messy and the demands of love too burdensome. I was out of my depth and realized that I had no foothold to land on. Swallowed in this chaos, I felt overwhelmed, alone, and unseen. I took a drive to clear my mind, hoping that the familiar (and typically peaceful) route would help to navigate this ever-growing uncertainty inside of me. Driving down that path with the mountains opening in front of me, I finally cried aloud, “I need help.” I heard the Lord respond to my cry with a question to my heart, Am I enough for you? In that moment, I remembered the ever-present God Who is my inheritance. I remembered that He sees me and He loves me. I remembered. “He came toward them, walking on the sea” (Matthew 14:25). Today’s Gospel tells of the disciples living through another turbulent storm, very aware that it was the fourth watch (hours between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m.) of their chaotic night. Reading today’s Gospel again though, I was reminded that Jesus was aware too. Jesus’ gaze was on His disciples, and He was more aware than they of the sea’s movement and which night watch it was. Amid doubt and despair, we often think that we are the only ones suffering, alone and forsaken. How often do we believe that God forgets us? How often do we forget that Christ’s gaze is always on us? How often do we underestimate that the Spirit Who “hovered over the face of the waters” (Genesis 1:2) is the same Spirit present in the storms of our lives? Abba Father, help us to remember that the storms in our lives and in this world answer to You alone. Speak Your word of peace into our chaos. Give us the grace to rest in Your ever-loving gaze, confident that as the storms may rage, You are more than enough for us. [bctt tweet="He sees me and He loves me. // Senite Sahlezghi" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Come, have breakfast.” // John 21:12 I knew the day ahead would be made up of a marathon of events deemed so important that breakfast would have to wait, though my stomach’s grumbling begged to differ. The grumble grew and was soon met by the irritability that only low blood sugar can produce, and so went my day. As I fumbled for the right key that would get me through the next door, a woman turned the hallway corner and offered me a breakfast burrito. Key in hand, I asked this stranger if there was a catch to the burrito. She smiled and said that this unopened burrito was the last one left from her meeting next door, and that she’d hate for it to go to waste. I thanked her as quickly as I grabbed the wrapped burrito and made my way inside. As I dropped my things and started unwrapping the foil, I said a new prayer of thanksgiving aloud: “Jesus, thank you for providing for me.” Like the Apostles in today’s Gospel, I experienced the grace of recognizing Jesus as the satiation of my hunger, humbled that my Lord and my God loves me in the concrete details of my life. Jesus died, rose from the dead, and sought out His disciples so that he could ‘come and have breakfast’ with them. This is the heart of our God. Our God seeks us out so that He can encounter us in the concrete details of our lives. During this Easter season, may we recognize Jesus in the invitation to enter His rest, confident that His love alone satiates our every hunger and provides for our every need. May we ask for the grace to say ‘yes’ to this offering of Love. [bctt tweet="Our God seeks us out. // Senite Sahlezghi" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Then he laid hands on the man’s eyes a second time and he saw clearly; his sight was restored and he could see everything distinctly. // Mark 8:25 The only guarantee was that each day would be filled with stories and paperwork at my job at the homeless shelter in Denver. One day on a day like any other, I sat at my desk to read through the intake paperwork completed by my newly assigned client. As I reviewed a packet that would tell me something of this woman, I was interrupted by a sound outside my door, a hearty and free laughter. I opened my door to see where that joyful noise was coming from and saw that it belonged to a blind woman. I introduced myself to her, told her she had a great laugh, and asked her what her name was. She said, “I’m your next appointment.” After settling into the office chairs and introducing ourselves to one another, we began to review her intake responses. Moving through the paperwork, we arrived at the last question, “What is your greatest strength?” Her response was, “My blindness.” Even though she couldn’t see my face, I’m sure she felt the gravity and surprise newly recognized in the room. She asked if I was okay. I asked if she could share the reasoning behind her greatest strength. She said, “My blindness makes me dependent on God and others.” In a world that defines strength as success, this woman was Jesus in disguise, coming to me and restoring my sight. Our poverty is our greatest strength, whether it comes in the form of blindness or not. When we recognize and surrender our poverty over to God, a way is made in the wilderness of our hearts, and He sends us to a new home, a home filled with those whose sights have been restored. May we give Jesus permission to lay His healing hand on our poverty so that, like my friend, we can proclaim that our strength rests in the way Jesus gazes on us. [bctt tweet="A way is made in the wilderness of our hearts. // Senite Sahlezghi" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion