"When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your . . . relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment. Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you.” // Luke 14:12-14 It was a Pinterest-perfect party: a Splish-Splash Birthday Bash that my daughter had requested for her fourth birthday (or had I pushed the theme on her?). I’d spent all night and into the morning stressing over the flip-flop cake I’d baked, getting adequate photo documentation for social media, and anticipating the other moms’ reactions. I was utterly exhausted before the first guest arrived, with virtually no energy left to attend to my daughter—whose value and dignity we were supposed to be celebrating. In my insecurity and pride, I had made the entire thing about me. I’d expended myself for appearances’ sake, hoping to get what I wanted in return. Feelings of satisfaction from the admiration of wealthy friends. Cheap affirmations of staged perfection from my social media posts. I had tragically dismissed the far greater importance of my daughter, who in her childlike poverty could give only her love and delight in return. We’re constantly tempted—in every area of our lives—to act in self-interest. The desires for convenient comfort or self-satisfaction often lurk as underlying motives. Even seemingly charitable actions can become pride-filled rather than love-infused when motivated by approval, admiration, or fear of rejection. To combat these temptations, the Lord invites us to self-forgetfulness. Not because we’re not good, but in fact because we’re too valuable to reduce each other to a bartering tool for superficial status. When you’re tempted to compromise Godly values for superficial gain . . . When you’re distracted by worries about how you’re coming across . . . When you find yourself seeking self-preservation instead of self-gift . . . Stop and pray this simple prayer: Lord, help these other souls focus on You more than they focus on me. And give me the grace to focus on You more than I focus on them. [bctt tweet="The Lord invites us to self-forgetfulness. // Megan Hjelmstad" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Brothers and sisters: We always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and powerfully bring to fulfillment every good purpose and every effort of faith. // 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12 Foot propped up on a pillow, gauze wrappings gently tucked around my big toe, I tried to stay still while my foot throbbed. In a sudden and traumatic accident involving my left big toe nail and my refrigerator door, I somehow managed to severely injure myself one Saturday evening. In my tear-filled haze, I typed out a message to my family group-chat asking for prayers. My mom and sister were responsive as usual, and they offered to send me some care-package items. I also decided to post a few stories over on Instagram. I had been taking a social media slow-down break, but wanted to let my friends know about my toe incident and ask for prayers. And boy, did they deliver. I received numerous well-wishes, prayers, hopes for healing, sympathy, and shared stories. It was an outpouring of love and support. The messages were non-stop. People checked in throughout the week just to ask how I was doing. How many times have I thought to ask for prayers regarding something going on in my life, but changed my mind, not wanting to burden others? And similarly, how often do I become cynical when others offer their thoughts and prayers but feel it’s done without sincerity? But sister, throughout Scripture, we are told to pray for one another—for strength, for encouragement, for reminders, for solidarity. Those genuine offers of thoughts, prayers, and love gave me encouragement while I was healing from my injury. And I am so grateful. Sister, when you see a prayer request, how do you pray for that person? Write their names down in your prayer journal, close your eyes and pray a Hail Mary, add them to your weekly intentions for Holy Hour, offer a decade of your Rosary to that person. Prayer is powerful; do it for one another. [bctt tweet="Prayer is powerful; do it for one another. // @substance_soul " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”// Luke 14:11 The church was nearly silent, other than the soft rustling of their long habits as they knelt. Identical white veils swayed delicately down their backs. Dark-colored rosary beads hung at their sides. I edged closer to them. They were beautiful. A row of serene faces, some etched with the loveliest laugh lines, others with penetrating eyes that gazed lovingly at the large Crucifix above the altar. Peace emanated from each of them. These Sisters gave their entire lives to the Lord by answering the call to a life of prayer and humble service, a life without prestige in the worldly sense. Each agreed with joy to take the lowest place. They took vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. On their wedding day, they danced with the Bridegroom. They were women with distinct personalities and varying gifts, sharing a charism of love. Women, who through their glorious witness, extend an invitation to each of us to live our blessed vocations for the Lord. To find peace wherever Christ calls us. In the quiet moments of life, unrecognized by the world, that is where we find His boundless love. That is where peace is ever-present. That is where we become who we are. I saw it within the Sisters. The fullness of a life poured out for the love of Christ and neighbor. Awaiting the day when His Holy Face smiles upon us. His wounded hand reaches out. His voice calls us to the table of the King. [bctt tweet="His wounded hand reaches out. // Leana Bowler" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. // Luke 6:12 I fall in and out of the habit of intentionally waking up to pray before the rest of the household is awake. As a mother and a wife, I know my prayer can also be active through the work of my hands when I’m unable to enter into a quieter form of prayer. Washing dishes, folding laundry, packing lunches, preparing dinner, braiding hair, sweeping the floors, and reuniting tiny lego pieces that belong to a masterpiece that has since been disassembled are forms of prayer that I can offer up. These forms of prayer are good and worthy, but for me personally, what is most fruitful is when I enter into silence. “Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God” (Luke 6:12). When I step away from my routine of chores and only focus on Jesus, I feel renewed. Even when the environment I return to is a controlled mess, the time I spend in quiet prayer fills me with calm and joy. In today’s Gospel we read that before choosing His disciples, Jesus spends time in prayer. The King of Kings could have very well chosen to be fed grapes, have servants fan Him, demand someone else to name the apostles, and yet He goes up the mountain to pray. I, too, have to get out of my routine and go pray. I have to enter into the chamber of my heart that is only reserved for Jesus and me—a place of intimacy that I don’t draw from often enough because I convince myself that active prayer is sufficient. I can only be strengthened by Him in my vocation when I am listening for Him. The silence draws me to Him in a way that my active prayer doesn’t. Sister, the work you do with your hands is a good prayer to offer to the Lord. Sometimes we need more than that though. Today, take some time to enter into silent prayer. If it's something you haven’t done before, ask Jesus to show you how. [bctt tweet="Enter into silent prayer. // Mytae Carrasco Wallace" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

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 Last year I bought my husband a tee shirt that says “Everyone makes fun of Catholics . . . until they need an exorcism.” It’s funny because it’s true. Yet priests are not the only ones called to fight evil. As baptized Catholics, we, too, are called to spiritual battle. While the majority of us won’t experience demonic possession, we will definitely experience a fight for our souls. Mostly this fight comes in the form of various temptations to turn away from God. In one of his General Audiences, Pope Francis spoke about fighting evil and temptation. He said, “We know from experience that Christian life is always subject to temptation, especially to the temptation to separate oneself from God, from his will, from communion with him, to fall again into the snares of worldly seductions. . . . [Baptism] gives us strength for this daily struggle, even for the battle against the devil who, as Saint Peter says, tries to devour us, to destroy us like a lion” (Pope Francis, St. Peter's Square, April 25, 2018). Baptism was our initiation into the battle, but Saint Paul lays out the continuous battle plan: “[F]or our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens. 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 6:12-13). At first glance, we may think it’s overly dramatic, but the news headlines point to evil in our world. It is time for us to stop being indifferent bystanders. We are called to not only fight for our own souls, but for the souls God has placed in our care, whether family, friends, or strangers. But first we need to fortify our own soul with prayer, the Sacraments, and Scripture. God knows that we live in evil times, therefore He provides an abundance of grace and opportunities for us to strengthen our souls and help us to lead others to the mercy of Christ. Who can you encourage today? [bctt tweet="He provides an abundance of grace. // Bobbi Rol " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

[B]e obedient to your human masters with fear and trembling, in sincerity of heart, as to Christ, not only when being watched, as currying favor, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, willingly serving the Lord and not men. // Ephesians 6:5-7 “Ugh! I just cannot get it right!” Crumpling yet another piece of paper, I tossed my latest drawing towards the recycle pile. I glanced over at my younger sister; even at age five, her talent far outshone mine. And I gave up. Clearly, I wasn’t ever going to be good at art. My perfectionist streak has reared its ugly head many times in my life, and one way I find it cripples me is in tactile activities I know there’s a strong chance of me not being great at. I consider a new hobby or activity, realize the work and talent called for, and often give up before I begin. It’s truly a mental block that prevents me from moving forward on things that have the possibility of being fun, yet I shy away from even starting. Today’s reading from Ephesians 6:1-9 might feel like it doesn’t apply to you: children, fathers, slaves, masters. Though we might not fit into those categories, even in our modern world, we’re still born into or placed in scenarios or realities that we don’t feel we deserve. My struggle with perfectionism limits what I can mentally tackle; it’s something I have to fight against in order to thrive. Yours could be a different mental health struggle. Maybe you grew up in a broken home or perhaps your husband or child has passed away. In spite of whatever unfair things we face, by the grace of God, we can suffer well. Our mindset must be to serve our loving Father, doing His will by striving for excellence and doing so for His glory. We can overcome because He will not leave us in our broken places. And even though the hand we’ve been dealt might lead to suffering on earth, ultimately it can pave our way to Heaven when offered back to Him. One of my favorite prayers when I’m feeling overwhelmed by suffering is the Litany of the Sacred Heart. Pray it with me today. [bctt tweet="He will not leave us in our broken places. // Sarah Ortiz" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ. // Ephesians 5:21 I used to bristle at the scripture found in the first selection for today's reading. As a young woman, I would sit in the pew wondering how the priest was going to justify the words of Saint Paul who told men and women how to act and treat one another. The word "subordinate" was used not just once, but three times. What about the words respect or love? “Why doesn’t he expressly write that I deserve respect?” I would fume. And then I met a man, fell in love, got married, and started a family. In the last two decades together and as our family has matured, the words have taken upon a new meaning. Although they all have things in common with one another, our daughters are different from our sons in many ways, and my husband and I interact with them differently as a result. All of my children need both love and respect, but the boys seem to receive love in a special manner through the respect I give them. When I show the girls love in their own ways, they feel valued, cherished, and respected. My children also are learning that there is uniqueness in interacting with mom and dad. They have grown to realize that disrespecting their father is the quickest means to gaining a punishment, whereas the way to break my heart is to make me feel unloved. Saint Paul didn’t tell men to disrespect their wives or tell women to stop loving their husbands. Rather, he merely turned to focus on the interaction towards love and respect in differential ways because we are different. And different is good. There is a special beauty that is to be found in living a life where we put the needs of another first as a real expression of love and respect for that person. In the most simple way, we are subordinate to one another when we open the door for a stranger or allow someone to pass ahead of us in line. We are choosing to let someone else go first or to be first. Being subordinate in other more difficult ways, holding our tongue when we want to rant or listening when we want to respond in anger, really can require a heavy dose of God’s grace. However, offering ourselves freely as a gift in the moment can itself be a true expression not just of love of neighbor but of love of God. [bctt tweet="Put the needs of another first. // @maryruthhackett" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

He is like a tree planted near running water, that yields its fruit in due season. // Psalm 1:1-3 “You’re trying to do too much.” This blunt but much needed sentiment from a dear friend snapped me out of my busyness and back to reality. On the brink of burnout, I was holding tightly to my self-imposed responsibility to do all the things, as soon as possible. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you’re overwhelmed by the responsibilities of motherhood, or performance at work, keeping in touch with people you love, or finishing all your schoolwork and because of that, you’re stretching yourself too thin. If this is you, dear sister, today’s Responsorial Psalm is for you. As children of God, we know that all good things will be brought to fruition in His time (even if we feel the pressure to do ALL.THE.THINGS.). We can give our best, and He will do the rest. We are taken care of. In times of busyness and overwhelm, we can be tempted to keep going, keep stretching until we see the fruit, but the Lord is working on His time, not ours. He is holding it all together and will bring all things together in His time. We don’t have to do all the things. Take a few moments today to meditate upon this Psalm, realizing Who God is, who He is calling you to be, and just how dear you are to His Heart. Then, do what you can, and surrender the rest to Him. He is with you. [bctt tweet="He is holding it all together. // Kelsey Dassance " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'” // Luke 18:13 I remember a cold night when I was pacing the floors with a small baby who needed movement from me—and only me—in order to keep her from screaming all night long. My body ached from exhaustion; my head felt thick and muddy from so many hours awake. I couldn’t think much or form complete thoughts. The idea of tomorrow, or the future, seemed so far away and impossible. There was only exhaustion and screaming babies for as far as my mind’s eye could see. The only prayer I could muster was, “Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.” I swear I could not concentrate long enough to say a Hail Mary. There was nothing I felt I could offer God. My body was attached to a very small miserable person so many hours of the day I didn’t have time to eat or sweep the floor. My mind was useless; I could not compose heartfelt prayers or contemplate theological ideas that I studied in college. I was humbled by my inability to do practically anything else other than take care of my child. Jesus reminds us today that humility is the entire point of faith. We can be closest to God through humility, when circumstances leave us feeling at sea, when we have nothing to offer, and no action to take other than crying out to the Lord. Instead of trying to “figure out” your life in prayer today, simply ask God for His mercy in whatever circumstance you need help in. [bctt tweet="Ask God for His mercy. // Christy Isinger" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift. // Ephesians 4:7 The eyes of all the little faces on our various icons of the Saints gazed out at me during my afternoon prayer time. My homeschooled children and I were taking time for silent prayer at the end of lessons on our first day of school. The morning had gone more smoothly than I had expected, for my children’s delight in learning and miraculous patience for me had taken precedence over the occasional frustrations. We had even eaten lunch earlier than usual. I prayed in thanksgiving to the Lord for the graces I had received that morning, I felt the weight of the Lord’s call to me. The weight of raising and educating the little ones entrusted to me. The weight of writing devotions and articles which share His love with those who read them. The weight of editing others’ writing to help them to proclaim truth in a clear, open way. I glanced from the icons of one Saint to another, to find one off whom I could model my work, those dear, familiar Saints who had drawn me into a friendship of devotion to them. But all their faces seemed to respond to me: you have to live out your call to serve the Lord as yourself. Saint Paul writes in the First Reading about the various roles we are called to in the Body of Christ—our individual calls to holiness, but also our unity as a church built up in love in Christ (see Ephesians 4:7-16). Sister, the Lord has a special call for you, and He gives us each the grace we need to live out this call, be it to patiently raise our children, to bring His light to our workplaces, or to discover our vocation. On this Feast of Pope Saint John Paul II who truly lived out this call in the Body of Christ, ask him and all the Saints to pray for you to know your call and to allow grace to help you live it. [bctt tweet="Bring His light. // Susanna Spencer" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

[L]ive in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love. // Ephesians 4:1-2 “They weren’t asking anything of me. They didn’t want anything from me. They were bringing me in with friendship, and they didn’t ask anything from me.” It was those words, paraphrased here, but spoken by a broken man who was being healed and restored by Jesus Christ, that stayed with me. In the telling of his conversion story, he had shared many thoughts, details, and experiences that I wanted to think through and consider, but in quiet moments, those were the words that came back to me. How funny that the most striking part of his story has almost nothing to do with him. He had met a group of Catholic Christians who lived in a manner worthy of the call we have received (see Ephesians 4:1). As he talked about them, their humility, gentleness, patience, and love shone through and ultimately led me to some deep personal reflection. Do I live as these modern Christians? Do I live as the ancient ones? Am I drawing people to Christ? Am I bearing with them with love? Ultimately God will be the judge, but I plan to bring this Scripture into my examination of conscience and remember to thank the Lord for the community whom He has blessed me with. Take some time today and ask yourself these questions too. [bctt tweet="Love shone through. // Bonnie Engstrom " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” // Luke 12:49 The Readings today are vivid in promise and imagery. Saint Paul’s prayer bespeaks the promise: “May [God] grant you in accord with the riches of his glory to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner self” (Ephesians 3:16). And Jesus expresses His longing love in vivid imagery, “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” (Luke 12:49). But I wonder if sometimes we might want a break from the absolute nature and intensity of the Gospel. We may especially want a break when Jesus says He brings tension and outright conflict: “From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three” (Luke 12:52). Many of us have what people call the “nesting instinct.” I can hardly help it. Other Sisters have teasingly called me ‘grandma.’ I don’t mind because it’s true that I love being in and creating spaces where people feel nurtured and have what they need. I relish helping people feel loved, appreciated, and honored. In practice, though, I’ve had to do a lot of reflection and growth precisely here. What does it mean to create a hospitable, loving environment when truth-in-charity means having a tough conversation to establish better boundaries? When I hear Saint Paul reference Jesus’ promise to renew and strengthen our innermost self, I think of how this impacts my closest relationships. Those are the people who will feel the impact most directly when I allow the Lord to help me conform my heart to His way of mercy and love. This kind of transformation can indeed create the precise division and conflict I naturally avoid. So what is the counterbalance? I don’t think there is one. The call is to lean in. Sister, each time we lean into Christ Who is Truth, we quickly rediscover the intense imperative to listen and live in humility. The more we allow ourselves to be evangelized by the beauty of the Gospel, the more we realize how little we know and how much we need mercy. Sister, may Jesus Who is meek and humble of heart make our hearts more and more like His. [bctt tweet="Be evangelized by the beauty of the Gospel. // Sister Maria Kim Bui" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

To me, the very least of all the holy ones, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the inscrutable riches of Christ. // Ephesians 3:8 “I have a wife and a family who depend on me. I can’t just get up and be a missionary somewhere. That would be irresponsible!” I sat in my living room, staring through the screen and at the young husband, who was a participant at a virtual young adult leaders gathering on Catholic Social Teaching where I was presenting. His ache for justice and activism was unmistakable. Before I could share suggestions about what he, and all of the attendees, could do and say to be living in solidarity with others, I looked at the crucifix in my hand. I had a flashback to a stunning gothic Catholic cathedral that I visited while on a pilgrimage in France. As a friend and I stood next to each other, breathlessly in awe of the cathedral, she turned to me and said, “Beauty changes your posture.” She was right. We went from schlepping our way to the cathedral steps and kicking the stones at our feet, to straightening our backs and lifting our heads to see every detail that our eyes could find. In the same way, the beauty of God’s unmerited grace changes our posture. Instead of focusing on what we can’t do, through the grace of God, we do what He enables us to. God knows our vocation, temperaments, social skills, attitude, and abilities. He has given each of us a unique voice, personality, or way to express His grace that He’s given to us to “preach the inscrutable riches in Christ.” International stages, thousands of followers, and public platforms are a few avenues in which the Gospel is preached, but it is lived out in the ordinary way you love your family, speak charitably to strangers, interact with opposing thinkers, and invite unbelievers to believe. When we focus on what others are doing or not doing instead of our own path, we are leaving the grace of God dormant within us. The grace of God is given to you to preach the inscrutable riches of Christ through your words and actions, your business and your studies, your intentional time with friends and your unexpected encounters with strangers, your prayers and your sacrifices. Invite the Holy Spirit to reveal this to you. [bctt tweet="God’s unmerited grace changes our posture. // @chikasworld" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the proclamation might be completed. // 2 Timothy 4:17 Walking across a dark campus following my evening class, I walked into the student union’s courtyard for fellowship hour before a praise and worship night as nervous as a college freshman would be frantically trying to recognize someone. While trying to catch my breath after hauling around my oversized backpack, I slipped into one of the chairs in the back while pulling out my phone making sure I wasn’t late to avoid any stares as I tried to find a seat. Between navigating classes and trying to find good community at a new campus, I was exhausted, ready to zip myself back into my little bubble. Maybe tonight I’ll meet someone who gets me? As unsure as I was to keep coming back because of the bubble I had enclosed myself in, I kept trying. And I did get to know some of the FOCUS missionaries and other students on my campus who invited me to not only be part of their wonderful community, but also to a deeper and more intimate prayer life, the very lifeline of my relationship with the Lord. I have felt a change in what I actually want in life, a new desire to bring about the glory of God so “the proclamation might be completed” through my witness to His Kingdom. The vocation of a student is hard, and finding Christ in the ordinary moments of student life can seem even harder. Yet, the Lord was guiding my every step, He continued to pave the way before me and used this Catholic ministry on my campus to teach me how to make my vocation as a student an offering to Him and proclamation of His Belovedness to everyone I encounter on campus. Today’s reading invites us to make our current season/vocation an offering to Him to proclaim His goodness and glory in its fullness. No matter how ordinary our daily tasks may seem, the Lord squeezes every last drop to use it for our good and His glory. Offer your everything to Him and keep saying yes to Him, sweet sister. Be assured that He is using all that you give Him so the “proclamation might be completed” through your current calling to build up His Kingdom. Fiat, my Jesus. [bctt tweet="He is using all that you give. // Jacky Hernandez" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The Lord made us, we belong to him. // Psalm 100:3 It was a hotly contested election season and all I received from this well-intended friend was forwards. Forwarded emails like it was 2002 and it was a chain email that begged to be sent along. But instead of chain emails, these were political calls to action. Goodness knows who she had donated to to get on this list, but the emails were legion and my patience quite paltry. One day, I had reached my limit. I texted AND emailed, Look, I just need a break from the opinions. I know you think the solutions to our problems are political but I’m just not that into it. Thanks for not sending these anymore. Her grain silos were filled with talking head commentators who had just the correct angle and just the correct answer. She had stocked up on every favorite show to watch and re-share. She felt that she belonged to her political party. But today’s Gospel and even the Responsorial Psalm teach us otherwise. I can’t claim some moral higher ground that because I wasn’t into politics, I was holier. But watching her marinate in every political outrage du jour brought me to facing what I had filled my grain silos with. Was I storing up treasure for myself? Did I act as though I belonged to Him? Yes and no are my simple, honest answers. What’s taking up your time, sister? Who would the world think you belong to? Take a quiet, long look at yourself and your life. Resolve to invite God in to help you make the changes to conform your life to His will today. [bctt tweet="Invite God in. // Nell O'Leary" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Moses’ hands, however, grew tired; so they took a rock and put it under him and he sat on it. Meanwhile Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side and one on the other, so that his hands remained steady until sunset. // Exodus 17:12 Swaying on my crutches in the parking lot, a stack of books balanced on one arm while stuffing things into my backpack, I heard someone approach. I turned to see the concerned smile of our pastor. “Can I carry something?” he offered. The obvious answer was yes—but my automatic response came sailing out: “No, I’ve got it—I’m good, thanks!” I had missed the bottom step on my way out the door early Corpus Christi Sunday morning. Pushing the pain aside through a busy day of Masses, pedaling the organ as best I could, and coordinating the Corpus Christi procession, I finally admitted something was wrong. An x-ray landed me in a boot, on crutches, carrying everything I needed in a backpack since I couldn’t use my hands . . . and telling the priest that I didn’t need his help. He raised his eyebrows, and I had to laugh. I need someone’s help many more times each day than I’m willing to admit. But in my own mind, I am Capable with a Capital C. I have everything under control. Today’s reading from Joshua depicts Moses, in whom God’s power moves so forcefully that he can affect the outcome of a battle with his hands. Hands up? The Israelites are winning. Hands down? They’re losing. It’s a great situation for Israel, except for one thing: even Moses got tired sometimes. Aaron and Hur bring him a rock to sit on, and they stand, one on each side, and hold up his arms. As long as they are there to support him, Israel’s victory is assured. We aren’t meant to do it alone. God made us to need Him. It’s not about proving how capable we are, but in recognizing on Whom we depend for help . . . and sometimes, in being willing to accept God’s help from a fellow human being. The Liturgy of the Hours begins each Office with this prayer: God, come to my assistance. Lord, make haste to help me. Try praying this short acclamation the next time you’re overwhelmed and then pay attention to how His help shows up. [bctt tweet="We aren’t meant to do it alone. // Abbey Dupuy " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Do not worry about how or what your defense will be or about what you are to say. For the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say.” // Luke 12:11-12 “I just don’t know what to say to her,” said the young man standing in front of me. We were at a conference chatting after a talk and he shared that his best friend had recently been hospitalized due to her mental health challenges. “I don’t know how to encourage her. I feel like I’m just fumbling around,” he continued, looking disheartened. I told him to tuck Luke 12:11-12 deep into his heart:“[Do not worry] about what you are to say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say.” Relying on this verse in difficult conversations has changed my life. How often do you approach a hard conversation, arrive at a day when you know a friend needs to hear the truth, or anticipate a moment when you need to use words to set up a firm boundary with someone—and you have no idea what to say or how to say it? This verse of Scripture can be a buoy in those moments of our lives. I have had countless conversations with women who pour their hearts out to me, desperately seeking encouragement, support, and direction, and I have not had a clue how to respond in some instances. So I have prayed fervently in my heart, Come, Holy Spirit. Teach me what to say in this moment. When we do this, we lean into the power of the Holy Spirit. We consciously choose to rely on Him rather than ourselves to encourage and enliven hearts. Perhaps you are facing a break-up or tough conversation with the person you’re dating. Perhaps there will be challenging family conversations leading up to the holidays. Maybe it is a conversation you need to have with one of your children, or a moment when you are certain God has placed you in another person’s path so they can hear the truth from your mouth. Do not depend on yourself to find the words—ask the Holy Spirit to give them to you. You may be incredibly surprised at the words you find to speak. [bctt tweet="Lean into the power of the Holy Spirit. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion