How can we know the way? // John 14:5 Today is my wedding day. I’m thinking of the little girl who enthusiastically belted the classic “I Love You, Lord” at her First Communion Mass when she was eight years old, still a mix of nerves and excitement from receiving the Lord in the Eucharist for the very first time. I’m thinking of the teenager in youth group who listened intently to each and every dating talk, wondering how love could ever be possible for me when I held so much pain from my parent’s broken marriage. I’m thinking of the college student who discerned religious life because the thought of giving my heart to someone in marriage was just too risky, and I really, really wanted the Lord to call me to something less scary (praise the Lord for good and holy spiritual directors!) I’m thinking of the young adult who returned home from yet another exceptionally disappointing date and sarcastically told the Lord: “If you want me to get married, someone is going to have to FALL. OUT. OF. THE. SKY!!” And I’m thinking of the same girl who met her husband a few months later, shortly after he discerned out of the seminary where he’d been for the past six years (so, basically he fell out of the sky!). If you’re anything like me, or the Apostles in today’s Gospel, maybe the Lord has called you to something, and you have absolutely no idea how you’ll get there. It doesn’t seem feasible, and you’re discouraged by the lack of possibility in your life. Maybe you don’t even have the desire, but you know what He’s told you, and you desire to be faithful even though it’s scary. Dear sister, with everything in me, I want to remind you that Jesus is the way. He is preparing a place for you in His House and using His grace to get you there. The life He has planned for you on this earth is His love story to you, bringing you closer to His Heart every step of the way. I know this because today is my wedding day, and He has done the impossible. Today, there is no fear in love. Today, I can see the fruit of suffering that drew me deeper into relationship with Him. Today, I’m singing the same song I did one May so many years ago: I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship You. Oh, my soul, rejoice! Jesus is the way. Give your heart to Him today.

For this is love, that we walk according to his commandments. // 1 John 1:6 There aren’t many things I would consider myself to have mastered in my twenty-four years of life, but I know one thing for sure: I am very good at being a middle child. If any stereotypes come to mind, I’ve probably lived up to them. For example, in early childhood, I tasked myself with the seemingly dire job of constantly keeping the peace, ensuring fairness, and being completely independent so as to not rely on anyone. And it worked . . . until it didn’t. I spent the first few years of my adult life crippled by anxiety, tethered down by the weight of my own expectations which were sorely complemented by my reluctance to ask for help. I was lonely, burned out, attributed my spiritual desolation to being “just a season,” and wondered where the Lord was in all my perfectly laid-out plans. It wasn’t until my friend, Beth Davis, invited me to take up a regular Holy Hour (and referred me to an amazing Catholic therapist) that I began to uncover the freedom the Lord has been offering me all along. I didn’t need to keep the peace with Peace Himself. I didn’t need to ensure justice with Justice Himself. I didn’t need to figure everything out on my own; I needed to follow Him. Through this dedicated time with Him, week after week, I began to surrender my preconceived notions and to grow in my desire to follow His will for my life. His love wasn’t asking me to perform or earn my place—He simply invited me into an abundant life, guided by His holy will. Because that’s what love does: It heals. It sets free. It restores us to life. This freedom is for you, too, dear friend. Visit Him in Adoration today. [bctt tweet="Love heals. It sets free. It restores us to life. // Kelsey Dassance" 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

“Stretch out your hand.” // Luke 6:10 "How are you?" Something along the lines of “Oh, I’m fine!” has been my natural response for as long as I can remember. Before I even think about the question, I find myself assuring someone that I’m great, never better, nothing to see here, business as usual. Because it would take too much time to get into it, and talking about it could hurt, and it would be better to just move on, right? If you’re anything like me, you may have also found yourself avoiding moments of vulnerability in an effort to maintain what you think is peace, only to end up feeling isolated, discouraged, and stuck. Jesus shows us another way. In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks the man with the withered hand to stretch out his hand. Surely, this physical affliction weighed heavily on this man and was more than likely something he’d rather keep hidden. But he moves in faith and shows Jesus his fragility. There, in that moment of utter vulnerability and trust, the man is healed. His life begins anew. This new life is available to you and me, friend. When we’re honest with the Lord (and trusted friends, family, counselors, etc.), we make ourselves available for deep healing and restoration. We don’t have to be afraid of our brokenness or frailty. We can bring it to the Light. Pray with me today: Lord, open my heart. Allow me to flourish in Your new life. Give me the courage to be vulnerable and ask for Your healing. Jesus, I trust in You. [bctt tweet="Bring it to the Light. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. // 1 Corinthians 2:2 Wow, I feel like I just went on a really great date, I thought to myself as I was driving away from the convent. I wasn’t discerning—just getting to know the Sisters of Life who were brand-new to the Diocese of Phoenix and feeling giddy and excited about our newfound friendship. As I continued to get to know them, this feeling persisted. They were joyful, hilarious, and such pleasant company that I always left feeling better than before I got there. It only took a few conversations to figure out how all of our interactions were so positive: it all came back to the Lord. Each exchange bore noticeable fruit in my life because they were all centered around Jesus Christ and how He is working in our lives, in the good times and bad. They sowed seeds of hope and magnanimity in my heart, as opposed to discouragement or dread that is so often the residue of worldly conversations. Now I strive to carry the same hope that Saint Paul expressed in today’s reading: “to know nothing except Jesus Christ, and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2). Jesus Christ dying and rising from the dead changes everything about our lives. When we accept this truth, we realize that miracles are real. That God is in control. That hope cannot be defeated. And when we live from this Truth, how can we not rejoice in everything He has done? Today, dear sister, I invite you to call a friend and talk about what the Lord has done in your lives. See how it changes things. [bctt tweet="Jesus Christ dying and rising from the dead changes everything about our lives. // Kelsey Dassance " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

For men this is impossible, but for God all things are possible. // Matthew 19:26 At twenty-two years old, I hadn’t thought much about tithing. I knew it was something the Church asked us to do, but I considered myself in a self-imposed “grace period” as I just finished college, had too many student loans, and was already overwhelmed with figuring out my finances as a young adult. But one day, as I was relaying my anxiety about paying for another car repair, the price of rent (hello, first apartment!) and figuring out how to buy groceries and not buy coffee every single day, a trusted friend asked me, "Have you been tithing at all?" My excuses piled up as the ice in the coffee I had just purchased melted on my desk. It felt financially impossible, but with every excuse, I felt more and more convicted that the Lord would alway provide and I need to move in faith and make a sacrifice. I began with a very small monthly donation to a religious order. Within weeks, I began to feel a peace and freedom that I’d never experienced and began to witness how much the Lord can do with my meager offering. I was grasping for security and comfort, but as soon as I began surrendering control to the Lord, the impossible seemed more possible. Now, one year later, I look back on this particular instance as a reason to always trust Him. When the Lord asks something of us, it can seem scary or uncomfortable, especially when we have to make a change. But our Faith reminds us over and over again that His will is for our good: He won’t ask us for anything that doesn’t bring us closer to Him and His will. He is worth what He asks for. What sacrifice is He asking you to make today? [bctt tweet="He is worth what He asks for. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Seek what is above. // Colossians 3:1 I knelt in the confessional and rattled off the same sins I had confessed the week before: gossip, cursing, sarcasm . . . you know how it goes. Each week I left with the same resolution: to just be a better person, and promptly returned a week or two later to confess the same sins. As I hit my knees and prayed Father, forgive me, I felt so discouraged by the fact that I couldn’t seem to master these sins that continually bore bad fruit in my relationships, thoughts, and hindered my ability to love others and receive their love well. It wasn’t until the priest who heard my Confession asked, “Have you asked the Lord to help you?” that I realized I’d been doing it all wrong. I wanted to master my sin on my own, and when I didn’t, I would go to Him and ask for forgiveness. But sister, Christ has already defeated sin and death, and He wants to help us to do the same. It’s our relationship with Him that will serve as a catalyst for our sanctity. Without Him, we are helpless. But because of Him, we will be raised to glory (Colossians 3:1-5). I am still far from perfect, and you are too. But we both serve a God Who is not going to give up on us—Who desires good things for our lives—and will see us through to His heavenly banquet. If you’re struggling with a particular sin, you’re not alone, and you can’t fight it alone. Go to Him. Ask Him to lead you to freedom. [bctt tweet="We serve a God Who is not going to give up on us. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds.” // Luke 11:10 I sat in a conference hall surrounded by thousands of other young adults when I got the news. It was Christmas break, I was a junior in college, and I didn’t get the prestigious internship I’d been interviewing for for the last few months. What am I going to do now? Most summer positions had already been filled, and the weight of rejection felt heavy on my heart. I felt helpless, so I mustered up a quick Jesus, I trust in You, which felt more like a last-resort than a courageous prayer, and began to slowly place my fears and anxieties at the foot of the Cross. A few weeks later, I came across a posting for a summer internship in Phoenix, Arizona. As I looked out my window and saw the piles of snow that surrounded me in Michigan, I thought, Hmm. That could be nice. Several weeks later, I was making plans to spend the summer in the desert, in a state that I couldn’t previously pick out on a map, in a time-zone where I knew virtually no one. That summer, I met Jenna Guizar and Beth Davis, who made Arizona feel like home with their sweet friendship, prayerful encouragement, and joyful company. I returned to Michigan to finish my senior year, bidding farewell to my brief Arizona life. But as providence would have it, by the time Christmas break rolled around again, I was making plans to permanently move to Arizona and work full-time for Blessed is She. I don’t know where you are in your life right now, but I do know this: the Lord has a good plan for you, and it’s better than you could dream. It may seem like you’ve hit yet another dead end and have nothing else to give, and that’s okay. Our Father is the most generous giver. He has everything that you need. He knows every beat of your heart, every dream in your life, every burden you carry. He wants to carry it all and make something beautiful. He can, and He will. Pray with me? Jesus, I trust in You. listen to today’s devotion

“For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” // Matthew 6:21 The first time I can recall thinking to myself, Wow, I really need to get my life together was at age fifteen when I attended my very first discernment retreat. The sweet Dominican Sister shared a quote from Saint Catherine of Siena: “Love transforms one into what one loves.” Immediately, I began thinking, Well, shoot. What do I love? Surely, I didn’t want to be transformed into a reality TV star or any popstar I listened to on my iPod touch. I wanted to be a Saint. I wanted to live with single-hearted devotion to Jesus and His Church. But how could I do that when there were so many distractions in my young life? Today’s Gospel has the answer. Jesus instructs us to store up treasures in Heaven, to give our hearts to a lasting love, and stake our lives on His faithfulness. When we keep our eyes fixed on Him, we become like Him. When we become like Him, we spread His light in the world. We become Saints. You know as well as I do that there is so much temptation in the world to be and do so many things for the false promise of fulfillment. But sister, Jesus is the only way. Earthly treasures will not satisfy. Wherever you find yourself looking today, whether it be for a quick distraction or real affirmation, turn your gaze back to Him. Give your heart to the One Who loves you and be transformed by His unending love. We don’t have to catch His attention, He is already looking at us. We don’t have to earn His love, it’s freely given. Let Him satisfy your deepest longing. [bctt tweet="Give your heart to a lasting love. // Kelsey Dassance " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way? // John 14:5 I’ve always held a special affection for Thomas the Apostle. Sure, he gets a bad rap for being the most obvious doubter, but the sentiments of his heart have always felt familiar to me. How can we know? Throughout my life and faith journey, I’ve wrestled with my own doubts and perhaps you have too. The same questions that stirred Thomas’ heart have visited my own more frequently than I’d like to admit, especially in moments of suffering, confusion, or hesitancy. How can I know that no matter what, the Lord knows the way? That He is always good? That He is forever faithful? I’m grateful for Thomas’ honest curiosity in the presence of the Lord, which elicited a response of great consolation: "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6). Jesus responded to Thomas in the same way He responds to you and me: with His whole heart and His whole life. He doesn’t assure us of the next steps or give us immediate answers to all our curiosities, but leaves us with the promise of His constant fidelity. Time and time again, despite our doubts and questioning, the Lord continues to call us. Thomas’ frequent queries did not disqualify him from drawing close to the Lord, so close as to touch His very wounds, and neither do ours. He is everything. He will never leave. We have everything we need. Do you feel the weight of doubt or wondering on your heart today? Share it with the Lord. Be bold in your curiosity and listen for His faithful response. [bctt tweet="We have everything we need. // Kelsey Dassance " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted. // Psalm 34:18 I rolled my eyes at the sound of a text message coming to my phone. In the midst of heartache and grief, I had no desire to talk to anyone. To talk would require me to be vulnerable, and I didn’t want to get into it. It was easier to isolate myself and figure it out. But much to my surprise (and delight!) the message on my phone was from a dear priest friend, and it simply read: I’m sitting in this with you, friend. As these words lit up my screen, relief flooded my heart. I wasn’t alone—not because I sought out comfort or companionship—but because my heart was seen, known, and loved. This priest, whose fatherhood over the years has radically changed my life, was the voice of the Lord to me on that day. I knew that I wasn’t alone—that the Lord was so close—that He had seen it all and was content to comfort me. As the days carried on, the burden of my heartache lessened, but the presence of the Lord never faded. He was close to my heart, sitting there with me, patiently waiting to console me. His love was never rushed, but present in every circumstance. My friend, if you carry a burden on your heart today, be consoled by the Lord’s presence. He sees what you’re carrying and He will sit with you patiently, loving you at every moment. [bctt tweet="He sees what you’re carrying. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful." // Luke 6:36 Some of my favorite things that I’ve learned from my dad—like how to lead with integrity, how to hit a softball, and how to rock a Vanilla Ice song on karaoke—I picked up on by simply observing him live his life. From a young age, my desire to imitate my dad’s quirks and character traits came from a place of deep love and admiration for who he was and who I wanted to be as his daughter: a person who reflects the best parts of him (and could hit just as many home runs, obviously). Now, as I read today’s Gospel, the desire I held as a little girl is stirred up again in my heart: I want to imitate the life of my Heavenly Father. Throughout Scripture, we receive countless examples of the Lord showing His people mercy, especially when none is deserved. When actions do not merit His love, He pours out in more abundance. It’s Who He is—and it’s who He asks us to be. It can be easy to see today’s Gospel as a cliche “treat others how you want to be treated” message, but the Lord’s instruction is anything but regular—it’s radical. He calls us to love as He loves, to be merciful as He is merciful, and to give others grace where it hasn’t been earned. He’s not asking us to give anything we haven’t already received, dear sister. He’s asking us to reflect what He’s already shown us. Let’s follow His lead. [bctt tweet="Follow His lead. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

She came and fell at his feet. // Mark 7:25 The overhead light in my car flashed off as an indication that I had been sitting motionless in my driveway for too long. I waited for a spark of hope to motivate me to gather my things and go inside, but the feelings of defeat persisted. My family half-way across the country was going through a difficult time and, even though we’d endured hardship many times before, I had never felt so helpless. I racked my brain for things I could do, ways to diffuse the situation, any action that would grant me the illusion of control or assistance, but I came up empty-handed. I lived too far away, and the situation was so far out of my control that I could only endure it—not fix it. As I look back on this season, I can relate the heaviness of my heart to what I imagine the mother in today’s Gospel was experiencing. She had watched her daughter endure terrible suffering through the unclean spirit and in her helplessness and desperation, she brought her petition to the feet of Jesus. I wish I could say I did the same, but surrender has been a hard-fought battle. In moments of suffering, my natural response is to regain control, to hold on tighter to my ideals, and to figure out how to make things go my way and lessen the burden of those around me. (Spoiler alert: it never works.) Today’s Gospel challenges me to consider a different response: one that doesn’t toil or control, but lays everything down at the feet of Our Lord and makes room for His providence. Sister, what would our lives look like if we trusted the Lord to provide for our every need? How much peace would we have if we truly believed that the Lord is in control? He knows our hearts, He knows our problems, and He’s the only One Who can save us. Let’s allow Him to work a miracle in our lives, even if that miracle begins in our hearts. [bctt tweet="Lay everything down. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"Love never fails." // 1 Corinthians 13:4 My heart sank in my chest as I heard the words that felt all too familiar: I don’t love you anymore. As I made my way to my car, fighting back tears that would surely come as soon as I closed the door of my ‘04 Chevy Impala, my mind recited the litany of similar sentiments I had heard so many times before: I’m leaving. You’re not worth it. I don’t want to settle. My history reminded me of the countless times that I’d been left wondering what more I could have done. Should I have been funnier? Run a couple of extra miles? Should I have just simply been a better friend/daughter/girlfriend etc? My heavy heart begged the question: am I worth loving? In today’s readings, Saint Paul appeals to us the greatest call of our lives: to love. But my dear sister, we can never do so until we recognize how deeply loved we are. The love of Christ, freely given at every moment, is not merely a consolation prize for when our human experiences leave us desolate: it is the very meaning of our existence. Each one of us was willed into existence by a loving Father Who has no intention of walking out. No matter how your human experience has shaped your idea of love, I want to encourage you to accept today’s reading as a free gift given to you by your Heavenly Father. As you go back and reflect on the words of Saint Paul, do so with the knowledge that He Who is Love willed you into existence, which means that you are worthy of receiving the truest form of love. And He never fails. [bctt tweet="He never fails. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

For ever I will sing the goodness of the Lord. // Psalm 89:2 Lord, You are just going to have to take care of everything, I thought as I boarded my flight to Dallas on hot Phoenix afternoon. We were about to kick off the Blessed is She Southern Revival tour and almost nothing had gone as planned. Logistics piled up, speakers and coworkers had fallen ill, leaving most responsibilities to me, and I anticipated the next eleven days on the road would be the most challenging of my career. In a very real sense, I had no idea what I was doing . . . and I trusted the Lord just enough to see Him work in incredible ways. As we traveled through Texas and Louisiana to host six Revival nights for over twelve hundred women, I saw women encounter Jesus through the Blessed Sacrament, worship Him with total abandonment, and encounter the safety and freedom of God the Father. Lives were changed during those nights—and mine was no exception. I look back on those nights as a testament to the Father’s goodness and His promise to always provide for us. In a situation where I felt completely helpless and unqualified, He filled in every gap. I gave what I could, and He showed up in glory. This memory is a moment of consolation for me any time I wonder if the Lord is still good. When I think back on those eleven days, I am confident that I will sing of His glory forever. Is there a time in your life, dear sister, when the Lord came through for you? Ask Him to remind you of that today. [bctt tweet="He filled in every gap. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves." // Psalm 34:19 “I know you’re faking it,” my coach said as I sat on the sidelines at the soccer practice I had begged my parents to let me skip. I was around ten years old, uncomfortable in my own body, and I was, indeed, faking the injury that allowed me to sit out of practice that day. I’m not proud of it, but my lack of coordination and athleticism gave me plenty of instances to make an injury believable, and my lack of confidence convinced me that I was better off on the sidelines. I didn’t want to run behind my teammates that I couldn’t keep up with. I didn’t want to be picked last for the scrimmage . . . again. I didn’t want to exhaust myself trying to be good at what came so naturally to everyone else. Now, as a twenty-three-year-old who isn’t any better at soccer, I still remember how the little girl with grass-stained knees felt that day: overlooked and utterly alone. A few months ago, the familiar feelings of insecurity and shame swelled up in my heart while revisiting this memory. I decided to invite the Lord into this story. Soon after, I wasn’t met by a coach who I had disappointed or a team who would be better without me, but a Father Who knew my heart. In this moment of prayer, I sat on the sidelines with the Lord as He wrapped His arms around me and gently whispered, “I know where it hurts.” While it may seem easier to bring only our physical ailments to the Lord—He will always go deeper. He cares about every beat of our hearts and He knows every wound, even those we may try to keep hidden. We don’t have to justify our wounds to be healed. We just have let Him in. Sister, if your heart is wounded today—whether it be from childhood, false beliefs about yourself, or a recent event, I want to invite you to encounter the Lord in your own story. He is so close to the brokenhearted, and He will surely heal you, even years later. [bctt tweet="Let Him in. // Kelsey Dassance" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I’ve learned more than a few things from my dear friend, Beth Davis, so when she told me she was finally convinced on the most effective path to holiness, I was intrigued. “Spiritual childhood!” she exclaimed. The idea of being a child in the spiritual life had always seemed “cute” to me, but not practical. I took pride in being self-sufficient, and I’ve pretty much considered myself an adult since my twelfth birthday (sorry, Mom and Dad). Being “childlike” had no positive connotations in my mind, and up until a few months ago, I considered the term a synonym for immaturity. But as I heard Beth testify to this path to holiness as one free of shame and condemnation, full of life and wonder, and as Saint Therese of Lisieux would say, “[An] elevator of humble confidence” (source), I began to open my heart to the possibility of becoming a child again. In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the Father, “Although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike” (Matthew 11:25). If you’re like me, you may have had an experience or two that forced you to grow up quickly or convinced you that it’s all up to you and you have to take care of yourself. But Jesus reminds us of the grace that is available to us when we appear childlike to the Father. When we lay down our complexities and plans, we are free to live based on the truth that we love Him and He loves us in return. Not everything in life is simple, but we have a tendency to make things more difficult than they need to be with our self-reliance (preaching to myself here!). Our childlike dependency can not only free us from the burden of "I need to take care of everything myself," but it reveals the heart of the Father and His willingness to provide for us in every circumstance. Today, let’s resolve to rest in the arms of Our Father, knowing that He will take care of everything. P.S. In case you needed a reminder, you are a good daughter. P.P.S. Readings from Optional Memorial of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, Virgin [bctt tweet="He will take care of everything. // Kelsey Dassance " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion