“Take courage.” // Matthew 14:27 1: Vow before God and your women’s prayer group that you will not allow fear to rob you of one more precious moment of your life. 2: Give thanks for the more than 20,000 days you have lived a full and meaningful life already. 3: Take your 90-year-old Mom to the gardening center and buy an abundance of annuals. Plant them at the feet of a statue of the Blessed Mother at your local parish. 4: Visit the recently widowed neighbor down the street and listen reverently and attentively as she speaks about missing her husband of 64 years. Consider that your holy hour for the day. 5: Make your husband’s favorite mushroom risotto on a Monday night just because. 6: Find ways to lighten the mood over dinner. Silly jokes and a glass or two of wine might help. 7: Write your Blessed is She devotion, reminding your beloved sister in Christ that the very same Jesus who, in today’s Gospel Reading, walked on water, reassured the frightened apostles, caught Peter when he began to sink, calmed the sea, and healed all those that were brought to Him—that same Lord is walking on the water of her troubled sea, approaching her with peace, calm, all healing, all power. And that whatever comes, He is there with her in the midst of it, and there is nothing to fear—not even cancer, suffering, and death—because this same Christ has conquered these and will dress them in His glory for all eternity. My dear sister, are you waiting for news, an answer, relief from something difficult? Is your life a stormy sea, full of threats and fear? Make a robust and creative list of all the things you can do instead of being afraid, work through the list, and as you do, imagine the Lord of all creation walking toward you, with you. Take courage, the courage of Jesus, and do not let fear have what belongs to the Lord.

While Israel I would feed with the best of wheat, and with honey from the rock I would fill them. // Psalm 81:16  In my current season of life, I can’t help but chuckle whenever I read this verse. As I type these words, I’m trying to enjoy my newly purchased gluten-free bread that’s about the size of a tea sandwich and looks more like something I nabbed out of my nieces’ play food set. Hey, I said I was trying.   When my nutritionist suggested I temporarily avoid gluten in hopes that it might alleviate my nagging GI issues, I was less than thrilled. Like the Israelites in today’s First Reading (see Numbers 11), I lamented all the things I could no longer savor: the pasta, the crackers, the bakery-style rolls—basically, the “best of wheat” promised to me in Scripture. In my mind’s eye, I beheld a playful image of Jesus handing me a loaf of luxurious-looking bread and me asking with hesitancy, “But is it gluten free?”  In my ravenous grasping for what I couldn’t have, I failed to receive what God knew I needed: food that would do no harm. Food that would satisfy. Food given from the deepest expression of love in His Heart.   Dear one, the earthly things we hunger for pale in comparison to God’s hunger for us—hunger that manifests itself in a total gift of self. Isn’t it sweet to know that we are fed by the One Who doesn’t skimp on the very best He has to offer? Yes, sister, the fine wheat of Christ’s perfect love satisfies every human privation under the sun.   Even when the bread and pasta are gluten free. 

“This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” // Matthew 17:5 Jesus took them up, up, up the high mountain by themselves and He was transfigured before them.   Look into His face. It shines like the sun. Behold His beauty!   Notice His clothes. They are dazzling white as light. The radiant splendor!   Can you hear what He is saying to Moses and Elijah? Jesus brings fulfillment.   It is good that we are here. Receive this Grace. Remain in the mystery.   That bright cloud in the sky Casting its shadow over everyone The voice pierces through the cloud.   This is My beloved Son, With whom I am well pleased; Listen to Him.   What is the beloved Son saying to you today? Listen to Him.   The disciples cower prostrate on the ground full of fear.   Jesus came to them. Jesus touched them. Jesus reassured them.   Let Him come to you. Let Him touch you. Let Him reassure you.   Rise, and do not be afraid.   They listened to Him. They rose. They saw Jesus alone.   Down, down, down the mountain. The slow descent Do not tell the vision to anyone,   Until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.   Who is this Son of Man? He receives dominion, glory, and kingship   All peoples serve Him. All nations serve Him. All languages serve Him.   An everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away. His kingship shall not be destroyed.   Encounter Jesus today in His glorious Transfiguration. Let Him transfigure you.   Let Him come to you. Let Him touch you. Let Him reassure you.   Rise, and do not be afraid.

“The earth has yielded its fruits; God, our God, has blessed us. May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him!” //  Psalm 67:7-8 The sunrise highlighted the vibrant purple hues from the plum trees and the warm orange tones of the apricots. The purple lines on the otherwise green figs meant they had ripened. The birds tweeted away their excitement as the juicy fruit was ready for picking—though human hands attempted to pick the fruit before feathered friends got to it. The moisture emitting from the trees as they absorbed every drop of water from the sprinklers in anticipation of warding off the excessive heat was a welcome sign that summer had arrived in the Mojave desert.  My family friend’s yard felt like its own secret garden in an otherwise parched desert. House sitting was my favorite because of this one-acre-yard which, if you are familiar with houses in Las Vegas, Nevada, is considered a real wonder.  The culmination of this oasis in the desert was the picking of the fruit for making jam. Baskets upon baskets of apricots and plums would make their way inside; all lined up in preparation to be washed, boiled, and canned. After making the jam, the surplus fruit was shared with family, friends, and neighbors. Some made it to our home parish as well.  “The earth has yielded its fruits; God, our God, has blessed us. May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him!” (Psalm 67:7-8). Those fruit trees reflected to me the goodness of God, the blessing that God imparts on us to reap and live off the land.  What a blessing it is that God allows all of this to exist for us. There is no aspect of creation that doesn’t reflect the goodness of God. The seemingly insignificant seed allows us to eat and be alive.  Where do you see God’s blessing surrounding you? It's easy during these slower summer months to fix our gaze on our screens rather than on His goodness.  Today, look for the fruitfulness He has yielded in your life, nourishing you both physically and spiritually.

Jesus came to his native place and taught the people in their synagogue. They were astonished and said, "Where did this man get such wisdom and mighty deeds?” // Matthew 13:54 I looked down at the test. Negative again. I wasn’t surprised because it was always negative. No matter the labs or the hormones or the fertility trackers, my pregnancy tests always turned up negative.  But not for everyone else, of course. Because every other week seemed to usher in another person with another story about another miracle.  That’s when the doubt began to take hold. It was a slow degradation of faith for me, one that fought its way to my heart through years of disappointment. It waged war on my belief in God’s ability and placed limits on what I believed He could do in our lives.  Today’s Gospel reading reminds me about the limits we so often place on Christ. The people in His native town took offense at His wisdom and mighty deeds. They could not believe that someone so close to them could perform such miracles.  I think we can all relate to the townspeople in today’s Gospel. We so often place limits on God’s ability in our lives based on assumptions we place upon Him.  And I wonder, dear sister, what sort of limits are you placing on Him? In what way do you struggle to believe that He will come through for you?  I am here to remind you of His power. Because just today I got to feed breakfast to two picky little eaters. And though I know my story is not yours, it is a reflection of God’s great ability to work outside of the limits we so often place upon Him.  Trust Him, dear sister, for He has great things in store. 

I had rather one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I had rather lie at the threshold of the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. // Psalm 84:11 I took the “Welcome Home” sign by both ends, letting the center dangle by my feet. The shiny blue letters caught the light as I stepped up on the little ladder. It was a simple thing of burlap and twine, dollar store supplies that took a few minutes to put together while dinner simmered in the background.  Welcome Home.  I was making it for me as much as for him. One more outward expression that I was glad he was home. Along with fresh sheets on his bed and clean towels on his chair, the banner was a sign that we were glad he was home.  None of it was necessary—my son knows how to change sheets and find his own towel. It was the thought, the message that the effort conveyed, that would make the difference.  Welcome Home.  We all want a place to call home—to be appreciated and missed when we are away. To feel completely accepted and loved for who we are underneath. To be understood.  As I strive to make a home for my family where they are welcomed and accepted, I recognize a longing to be more at home with the Lord and know that I am welcomed into His dwelling place, fully understood, accepted, known, and loved. I am caught between making a place here on earth—a tangible place for others to be known and loved—and a restlessness only satisfied in my Heavenly, eternal home. May the Lord allow me to lay on the threshold of His Home, to use my house as an entry point inviting people not only into my life, but also into a relationship with Him. Sister, where are you most at home? Have you intentionally invited the Lord into that space? Ask Him to give you a taste of His eternal home.

Jesus said to his disciples: "The Kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” // Matthew 13:44 I can still imagine the scene perfectly. A row of men dressed in white, laying nose down on the cold marble floors of the cathedral. Every seat of every wooden pew was full, and all eyes were on the altar. I was witnessing over a dozen young men lay down their lives for the sake of their bride—the Church.  It was the first Ordination Mass I had ever attended, and the memory still brings tears to my eyes. As I watched each man get down on his knees and stretch his body prostrate on the floor, I thought of his sacrifice.  Every one of these men was willing to surrender all that he had—and joyfully.  It was the kind of joy you see bursting forth on a wedding day, a total outpouring of grace. These men had found their treasure, and it was worth everything.  While not all of us are called to receive Holy Orders and become priests, Christ calls each and every one of us to participate in the priesthood of all believers we entered at our Baptisms by laying down our lives for the Kingdom of Heaven—the greatest treasure our eyes will ever behold.  Maybe that’s not selling everything you have, but maybe it’s risking rejection, sacrificing your time, or stepping out of your comfort zone. Maybe it’s writing that check to that missionary or getting up for the 1,085th time to feed your crying baby. Maybe it’s silently bearing your roommate’s annoying habit or making time in your schedule to visit someone who’s lonely.  It won’t always look like a shiny ceremony in a marble Cathedral, but at the end of your life, all those moments will add up. Each and every sacrifice you have made will be a speck of gold in the Cathedral of Heaven.  And when you behold the face of God, you will know that it was worth it.

The LORD used to speak to Moses face to face, as one man speaks to another. // Exodus 33:11 “If you think wormholes are crazy, wait until you hear about spaghettification,” he said before taking another sip of his beer. Everyone laughed, including me, because I thought he was making up a silly word. He wasn’t. The bonfire popped as I rotated my marshmallow and the science-y people kept talking about theories based on Einstein's equations. Phrases, concepts, and words which I thought had been created by the writers of shows like Star Trek and Doctor Who were being discussed like they were real, actual things. Because it turned out that they were actual, real things! I assembled and ate my s’more in wide-eyed wonder. The more I learned, the more questions I had.  It’s also how I feel reading today’s Gospel passage about the end times (see Matthew 13:36-43). There will be angels? What will the angels look like? Will we be able to see them as they carry some away?  Of course it’s good to reflect and ask questions, but sometimes we can just accept what knowledge we have and trust it’s sufficient. Like me and astrophysics . . . or the end times.  Moses and the disciples were in privileged relationships with God. They met with Him face to Face, speaking to Him directly, asking clarifying questions (see Exodus 33:11 and Matthew 13:36.) That’s not how it is for us, but perhaps we are like the rest of the Israelites, standing in the doorways of our tents (see Exodus 33:8-10). We do not see a "column of cloud" (Exodus 33:10) but our Jesus in the Eucharist. We cannot hear His Voice, but we can listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. It's not the same, sister, but let us take our questions to Adoration and pray that the Holy Spirit will increase our faith, knowledge, and trust.

So Moses went back to the LORD and said, "Ah, this people has indeed committed a grave sin in making a god of gold for themselves! If you would only forgive their sin! If you will not, then strike me out of the book that you have written." The LORD answered, "Him only who has sinned against me will I strike out of my book. Now, go and lead the people to the place I have told you. My angel will go before you. When it is time for me to punish, I will punish them for their sin." // Exodus 32:31-34 “You are acting like a bunch of children!” I cried, full of fury. As soon as the words escaped my mouth I felt the anger dissipate, and I found the ridiculousness in the comment. The four faces, filled with features that mirrored my own, looked up at me in a mixture of shame and amusement. Shame that they had angered me so, amusement at what I had just exclaimed.  Yes. They were acting like a bunch of children. Because they were a bunch of children.  Much of my focus on parenting in the early years was directed toward simply getting my children to behave. I desired a certain level of decorum and held them to a higher standard of behavior. Embarrassingly it was because I saw those sweet children as a reflection of me. Their behavior was a type of report card on my parenting skills. A temper tantrum in the grocery store—Mom gets an “F” for the day. Sibling bickering at a high—another “F”. The dropping of a curse word—well, you get the idea.  My emotional boundaries were completely disordered. My self-esteem and very identity were unhealthily enmeshed in their obedience and behavior. The wrath I felt when they disobeyed came from a desperate fear that I wasn’t parenting well enough. Having boundaries with others is not simply about saying no when you are over-programmed. It can also be related to having clarity in your level of responsibility for the behavior of others.  Moses pleaded with the Lord to forgive his people in the same way so many of us plead today with the Lord to have mercy on children, siblings, and friends who have gone astray. Their behavior is not a reflection of our goodness or worth. Unless we are leading others to sin, we are not responsible for the choices they make. Each of us is accountable only for the choices we make.  Are there relationships about which you need to pray for guidance and clearer boundaries? Who can you pray for today? Who can you entrust to the Lord?

And those he predestined he also called; and those he called he also justified; and those he justified he also glorified. // Romans 8:30 Through blurry, tear-filled eyes I read the text message from my friend: “You are exactly the mother for this child. God chose you to be her mother for a reason.” I felt anything but qualified to be facing the trials of raising teenagers. That day found me particularly down. I was exhausted, scared, and unsure about what to do for my child.  Those words from my friend changed my perspective, at least about who I was as my children’s mother. I still didn’t know what the next right step would be, or how to best meet the needs of my child in that situation. But the words affirmed a truth about my God-given role as a mother to the specific souls in my family. God chose me to raise my children, to love and serve them to the best of my ability. He knows what He is about; my part is to say yes to His purpose for my life and trust in His graces for me along the way. I took a deep breath (or twelve), washed the tear streaks from my face, and prayed, “Lord, help.”  Another frequent prayer of mine begs for His grace: “Lord, you gave these children to me. You know their needs. Give me the grace to do what it takes to get through this challenge.” He always does give the needed grace. It’s our reliance upon His grace that helps us progress in the spiritual life while we live our daily lives. His grace moves us each step of the way, from the calling to the justification (being made righteous, or holy) to the glory (sainthood!).  Sister, the Father knows the unique struggles you and I face, no matter what our specific vocations entail. His plan is perfect, and His grace is more than enough to help you through each day’s challenges towards a life of holiness.

“I am the light of the world, says the Lord; whoever follows me will have the light of life.” //John 8:12 Her soft whimpers interrupt the quiet of the night. I hold her close and sing hymns, swaying gently until she settles. Sleep does not come easy for this little one. Night after night, she seeks comfort in my arms, restless until she hears the familiar hum of my voice. Moonlight spills through the window, and she presses her cheek to mine, stirring and then drifting to sleep. In these hidden moments, with bleary eyes and a contented heart, I heed the call of the Lord—the call to love whomever is before me. I serve, wearily and joyfully, much like Saint Martha of today’s Gospel. Welcoming the Lord and offering Him my works, my worries, and my love. Throughout the day and night, I follow Him, sometimes with stumbling steps and sometimes with steady ones. I follow Him as I soothe my crying baby, as I cook for my family, and as I greet my neighbor. I follow Him as I pray, “Lord everything I have is Yours,” and by His mercy the seemingly mundane is made holy. Sister, Jesus invites us to follow Him every moment of our day; no matter what we are doing, He is calling us to Him. I encourage you to simply recognize the Lord’s call throughout your day. What is He calling you to offer? Who is He calling you to love? When is He calling you to prayer? Seek Him and find comfort in His familiar voice. He is the Light of the World. Follow Him and have the light of life. 

“You shall not have other gods besides me. You shall not carve idols for yourselves [. . .] For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God.” // Exodus 20:3-4a, 5b Creak, silence, creak, creak. Despite my best attempt not to make even the slightest noise, the stairs under my feet groan, weary from years of life passing up and down them. My three children are miraculously still sleeping, and I practically hold my breath trying not to disturb their slumber. My feet step off the last carpeted stair to the cold floor below. I tiptoe to the kitchen. Mug, cream, sugar, hot coffee. I glance at the clock: 6:33 a.m. I walk into the living room, draw back the curtains, and cozy up on the couch with a blanket. A rare moment of quiet solitude.  I am jealous for you. Feeling a bit taken aback, I say good morning to the Lord. I thank Him for a new day, for the opportunity to begin it with Him. Again, I feel Him press upon my heart: I am jealous for you. There is no denying His closeness, His tender pursuit. Later that morning I head to Confession at my Parish. After waiting in line and receiving the Sacrament, I make my way to the chapel, sure to be busy with other Confession goers. As I step inside, I realize it is empty. How can this be? I think. My eyes welling with tears, I kneel deeply before the Blessed Sacrament, and He reveals His desire to be with me, personally and intimately.  We live in a world where the worship of idols is normal and celebrated. What idols have we carved—perhaps overuse of social media, our phones or other technology, food, relationships—what keeps us from relationship with and worship of God? How are we spending this one precious life we have been gifted?  Sister, the Lord is jealous for you. Today let us ask the Lover of our souls to, ever so gently, reveal what we need to let go of for love of Him. Grant us the grace, oh Lord. Amen. 

“But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear.” // Matthew 13:16 We shuffled into the pew as quietly as possible and sat near a friend. She is single, praying for a spouse, and hoping for children. My husband candidly passed our son over to her, and she happily took him in her arms as we all sat down to hear the First Reading. We have spoken so many times about her dreams and desires—which look very much like my current blessings— that my heart tuned in to hers. I felt empathy for her and wished so much that she could also be blessed in this way one day soon. But I must also admit, I felt uncomfortable: my two great blessings beside me were highlighting what another woman longs for but does not yet possess. Why do I get to have these blessings? I understand the disciples questioning our Lord in today’s Gospel. Why are they spoken to plainly but the crowd only gets parables?  His answer ends with a further affirmation of their blessedness: “But blessed are your eyes because they see and your ears because they hear” (Matthew 13:16; emphasis added). They must have been humbled by that declaration of truth. Because truly, although it was perhaps uncomfortable for them to admit, they could not deny that they were blessed to see and hear what the prophets had longed for.  Sister, would you take a moment now and focus on a blessing that the Lord has given to you? Whether it was a clear answer to a tough prayer, a difficult situation transformed into something joyful, or simply some flowers from a friend on a gloomy day, name a blessing. Own it; it is yours, given to you by your Heavenly Father who loves you.  We cannot deny our blessings, even if they may make for awkward moments. When I accept my blessedness, I give testimony to the Lord’s faithfulness and mercy. Because I have also been that woman in the pew. I have sat with both the longing and the blessing. And in all seasons, He has been faithful and generous.

But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. // Matthew 13:9. When I look around our world right now, the world in which I’m raising five kids, I do not see a lot of rich soil. It would be a generous description of our culture to describe it as “rocky” when it comes to how hospitable it is to faith at all, and the Catholic faith in particular. Yet I see my main job as a mom trying to raise Catholic kids into Catholic adults as providing them with rich soil in which their own faith can take root.  I need to remind myself often that rich soil can look like a lot of different things, especially to different people. Most importantly however, rich soil can be enriched through simplicity. The good, true, and the beautiful are so powerful in the minds and hearts of our children that even when they are presented in what seem to be basic and simple ways, the impact is felt upon their souls.  The beauty of our parish church, the red light glowing beside the tabernacle, or the small statue of Mary are little signs of the power of beauty. Providing my children with the truth that God loves them and made them for a purpose over and over again throughout their lives imprints truth onto their hearts. When my children see the goodness that is shown when I serve my husband in small ways, making him lunch, getting up in the middle of the night with another sick child, or running a dreaded errand, they see what goodness looks like in the everyday.  I know this may sound overly simplistic, especially when we look at the world full of ugliness that surrounds us. But preparing rich soil for the souls of children, whether our own or those dear to us, is done every day and in simple ways. Rich soil is cultivated over time and can’t be artificially replicated, or else it will only be a sandy path: easy to walk upon, but impossible in which to grow deep roots.   How can we perform a small act of service today to help rich soil develop in the lives of our children, our community, and our society at large?

“Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” // Matthew 20:28 As a mother, I can relate to the mother of James and John. It’s not hard to find myself trying to shove my kids to the front of the line, so to speak—to defend them when they are slighted, to want them to be well-liked or have approval from others, to want them to have the best piece of the pie. I could imagine if Our Lord were standing before me, I might ask the same thing as this mother of two Apostles . . . and earnestly! The heart of a mother is fierce and protective, and wants the good for her children. In this regard, none of these things are objectively bad. It is good to want the good, and we should. But we should want a greater good even more. For Our Lord came to serve and to give Himself as a ransom for many.  Sister, just like Saints James and John, we are called to live in the footsteps of this same Lord—to love as He loved, to share this love with the ones we love most, and in sharing it, help them to love in the same way. In this spirit we can see so clearly that this type of love is a love of self-giving, self-denial, and even suffering. And if we love with our lives, then we choose to live with self-giving, self-denial, and even suffering. It’s hard to sort out how to get there when our natural fallen human state is so readily focused on self. But, with the help of grace, we can always just start, and in the simplest ways. If I can make a small sacrifice for another, then I will be more apt to make a slightly bigger one, and when a bigger one follows, I will be ready for that, and on and on all the way to the Cross. Jesus, help me to start small, knowing that nothing is small for You.

“The Lord himself will fight for you; you only have to keep still.” // Exodus 14:14 When my nephew wakes up, sometimes his first words to my sister are “Bye, bye?” (translation: “Are we going somewhere in the car today?”) This delightful toddler is not even two years old, and yet prefers leaving the house to go on simple outings. It can be comical to observe the preferences of such a little boy. I have similar tendencies. I have always loved going on adventures, exploring new places, and learning through travel. People have accused me of a disordered greed for experiences, so this is something I often bring to prayer. The Father has given and taken away travel throughout my adult life, most recently during the Coronavirus lockdowns and travel restrictions. My March 2020 flight to Molokai, Hawaii, was suddenly canceled along with my Saint Damien of Molokai pilgrimage. In June 2020, the pandemic completely shut down my Camino de Santiago pilgrimage through Spain. Covid stilled all of my travel plans for the foreseeable future, and it was difficult for me to understand God’s will in the midst of that disappointment. In my confusion, this Scripture verse made its way to the forefront of my prayer: “The Lord himself will fight for you; you only have to keep still” (Exodus 14:14). As the Father invited me to even deeper surrender and trust, I deliberately tried to keep still in the Heart of the Trinity. I intentionally spent time each day before the Blessed Sacrament.  The stillness allowed me to listen, be attentive, and remain recollected. The Father led me to further vocational clarity about the contemplative life He was calling me to. My desires came into sharp focus and I moved forward with bold courage. During that time of stillness, the Lord Himself was fighting for me and was preparing to give me the greatest gift. We may only understand pieces right now, but let’s remain confident that the Lord does great things when we are still. Let us pray for the grace to remain peacefully within the Heart of the Trinity, confident that the Lord is fighting for everything we need.

But the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. // Romans 8:26  I did not think I would fall back so quickly into my old ways, but there I sat on a Thursday morning with hot, silent tears going down my face in embarrassment and frustration.  Really . . . Again? I thought to myself, wiping another tear. I had just come off a silent retreat, and it did not take very long to lose my peace and find myself falling into sinful ways again. I figured I would come down shining and renewed like Moses coming down glowing from Mount Sinai, but instead came back . . . grumpy. Wondering where I had gone wrong in losing my peace from the retreat, I anxiously ran through all the options to retrace my steps. Maybe I needed to redo the meditations or scour my journal, pray another Rosary, or just force myself to get it together or simply give up.  As I sat with my tears of frustration rolling down my face, I heard a whisper in my heart: “Ask the Holy Spirit to pray with you and pray for you. He is rooting for you.” These words silenced me, and it was then I remembered Saint Paul’s own words to the Romans from today’s Second Reading (see Romans 8:26-27). I realized then I was clothed in self-sufficiency instead of supplication and had forgotten the very graces I had received on the retreat.  Sister, for many of us it’s time to shed the self-reliant garment we have been wearing for years—the one that turns us inward and, in blinding us from reality, makes us think we can and should do this on our own. Let the Spirit come to the aid of your weakness. Let Him gently show you the ways in which He desires to provide for you and in you. He has not been sent to stand on the sidelines of your heart judging, but to fight the fight within you. Will you let Him show you where He wants to intercede with and for you today?