“And this is the testimony: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.” // 1 John 5:11 Thank You, Father, for Your gift of Eternal Life. Through the sanctifying waters of Baptism, You have given me a New Life: Eternal Life is in Christ Jesus, my Lord. As we set off into this New Year of 2023, give me the Grace to remember my identity before you. On the day of my baptism, You witnessed the birth of Christ’s life in me. Help me to perceive the supernatural reality that when You look at me, you see Christ. I find profound rest in Your words of Truth: “You are My beloved daughter, with you I am well pleased” (see Mark 1:11). How is it that I can forget the indwelling of the Holy Trinity within my distracted heart? May Your presence be my joy and strength! And while I may inadvertently overlook Your choice to dwell within me, I remain grateful for Your faithful presence throughout every moment of my life. I am poor. You are rich. I am weak. You are strong. I am unworthy. You are worthy. And I am loved unconditionally. My imperfections do not hinder Your repeated choice of me. Nothing can separate me from Your love. Nothing! Continue to purify my heart. Guide me to a deeper discovery and delight in the warmth of Your unwavering presence. My heart is Your home. I look forward to the life of the world to come (see Nicene Creed). What a joy it will be to see each other face-to-face. Maybe then I will start to comprehend the endless heights and depths of Your love.

"Can anything good come from Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see." // John 1:46 My teenage son wanted to DIY a costume last year. Usually I’m all in for a good homemade costume; they’re fun and inexpensive. What is there not to like? Plenty in this case, I can assure you. Knowing my son’s temperament, slight perfectionism, and inclination to frustration, I was more than hesitant about this project. Even with my hesitation, I wanted to support my son’s idea and his determination. We gathered supplies and set up the sewing machine so he could begin. My son sat at the table, I stood over his shoulder, talking: “First you’re going to need to adjust this setting . . . . The lever is there. . .” until I realized that just telling him the steps was not nearly as effective as showing him. “How about I show you first?” I offered instead—wondering why I’d agreed to this. Showing my son how the machine worked was much more effective than merely telling him what to do. He could watch my hands guide the fabric and see the machine in action, learning from my example better than if I’d only spoken to him. And to my surprise, he brought his idea to fruition with only a little frustration involved. There’s something special about seeing that makes an incredible difference in our experiences. There’s also something about a personal encounter that makes seeing lead to believing. Imagine if Philip didn’t bother with Nathanael after he expressed his disbelief (attitude?). Or imagine if Philip lived in our time and only used his social media accounts to talk about Jesus, never extending an invitation to “come and see.” I have to wonder if Nathanael would have met Jesus at all. Sister, our interactions matter as much as our words matter. Both need to proclaim the truth about God’s love. Who in your life is like Nathanael? Pray for the Holy Spirit to work through your life, so that through you others may know the love of Christ.

Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi, where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come, and you will see.” // John 1:38-39 I paused for an instant, my thumb hovering over the screen time warning on my phone. A hundred thoughts and justifications raced through my mind before I finally shifted my finger with great effort to close the app instead of ignoring the limit. Instantly, my mind and body exhaled with relief. What were you looking for? The Lord nudged my heart with the question. What did you really want? To escape myself, I answered honestly. I didn’t really know what I was looking for, but I knew what I was running from: discomfort, demands, guilt . . . and most of all, fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being needed. Fear of not being loved. Well that escalated quickly, I thought wryly. Lord, what’s Your answer to my desire to escape? I’m right here, He whispered into my heart, loving you. Waiting to remind you of who you are to Me. With renewed conviction I picked up my Bible and followed the Lord into His Holy Word. The peace of His truth flooded me, far better than the temporary relief of escape. When Jesus asked the disciples what they were looking for, they didn’t quite know how to answer. Instead they replied, “Where are you staying?” With a simple invitation, Jesus showed rather than told them. “Follow Me,” He said, so that they’d know exactly where to find Him that day and the next—and where to lead others to Him, too. Christ’s question and invitation extend to you, too. What are you looking for? Like the disciples, we’re often unsure how to answer—too caught up in a pattern of avoiding, hiding, and escaping. Yet the Lord knows what we can’t articulate: in every circumstance, we’re looking for real love, and we can only find it fully in Him. In response to our uncertainty, He shows us where we can always find Him: in the Eucharist, in Holy Scripture, in the healing Sacrament of Confession, waiting to fulfill. Today, probe beneath the surface of your desires. What are you really looking for? Christ is waiting to provide it and ready to show you just where to find Him.

See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the Children of God. // 1 John 3:1 I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a little teary eyed as my eighth graders looked at me with gratitude one afternoon. I’d just allowed them to spend an entire religion period spouting off their frustration with a variety of circumstances they’d been experiencing over the past few months. I listened patiently, responding with what I hoped was understanding, love, and maybe logic here and there. As I dismissed them to lunch, several of the students came up and said, “Sister, this was awesome. It feels like no one ever really listens to us.” Misery, angst, awkwardness, confusion, rebelliousness, and so many other things could be aptly applied to my darling middle school students on any given day. After nine and half years of teaching middle schoolers, I’ve learned the only answer to any of those things, the only thing that can free them from the anxiety, confusion, and awkwardness of adolescence is knowing their true identity: they are the Father’s beloved ones. I teach my students a lot of doctrine, dogma, and theology throughout the course of a year. In the end, though, I don’t care if they remember who presided over the Council of Trent, or if they can define Hypostatic Union, or if they know how many years Israel was in exile. If they remember one thing, I hope and pray it’s this: they are loved infinitely, personally, uniquely, and individually by the God Who created them and holds them in existence by His very love for them. I hope and pray that for you, too, sister. This knowledge is not something that only middle schoolers need. We need it too. Every day we need to be reminded that our identity and worth can be found only by dwelling in the gaze of the Father Who has bestowed immeasurable love upon us that we may be called His children, that we shall be like him (see 1 John 3:2). Sister, in this Christmas season, embrace your identity as the Father’s daughter because everyone who has this hope based on Him makes himself pure, as He is pure (see 1 John 3:3).

And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ. // Ephesians 4:11-12* Walking down the bike path, I noticed two geese flying south with one another. The V-formation is a vital part of the way geese journey together. The significance is multi-layered: they create an uplift for one another to help one another fly further to reach their destination, and they fly in front of one another when they are hurt or sick. What I found most interesting watching these two geese on the bike path was that although they were just a pair, they were still flying in a V-formation! They were set on journeying with one another, creating uplift for one another, and reaching their final destination together as soon as they could. In that moment, I witnessed an incredible testament to how important the quality of our friendships are over the quantity of friendships we have. Best-friend Saint feast days are a beautiful joy in our Faith. There are very few of them, but today, we celebrate the faith of Saints Basil and Gregory who were best friends and set on proclaiming the truth of the Faith together to the masses in the 300s. They dedicated their lives to the service of the Church, and their closeness (as well as disagreements they had!) are an amazing testament to two souls flying side-by-side, set on reaching Heaven together. Today, I invite you to think of one friend whom you would love to be canonized alongside and share a feast day with—someone who flies with you on this journey to uplift you, to support you, to reach Heaven with you. Saints Basil and Gregory, pray for us! * from readings for the Memorial of Saints Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen, Bishops and Doctors of the Church

When eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. // Luke 2:21 Another wave of fatigue hit me as I stood beside the baptismal font, watching the priest pour water over the head of my first-born child. She was only eight days old, and I had not yet recovered from an intense birth experience. But I was there, presenting her to the Lord and giving her the greatest gift I could: adoption into new life as a child of God. This was made possible because the Son, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, while retaining His divine nature, had received His human nature from a woman. Today is the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God, a day on which the Church commemorates the truth that when God became a Man, a human became the Mother of God, providing His human body and nature and bearing God within her very womb. When her first-born Son was eight days old, He was carried to the synagogue, and, through His circumcision, He entered into the Old Covenant as a human. He shed His first blood on our behalf and began to model for us the life of self-gift to God and others that we are meant to live. The Second Reading tells us: "When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons" (Galatians 4:4-5). We see from the life of Christ and from His Mother the God-bearer that to bear God into the world, we are called to lives of dedication to God. Not just a one-time offering at our Baptism, but a continual offering of every moment of every day. We are to offer ourselves again and again. Sister, on this the first day of the calendar year, ask the Blessed Mother to help you become more like her. Ask her to pray for you to have the grace to know how you are called to bear God into the world and to joyfully accept His call.

What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. // John 1:3 Someone in my family told me a few years ago that she goes to Mass on the last day of the year every year, and she thanks God for her life and for all that happened that year. Certainly, not everything that happens throughout any year is all good and easy, but she still shows up and begins one year by finishing the last one—all with a "thank you." Whether it was a good year or a more difficult one, His light shines, and she reaches out for it. Hearing this made me want to reach out too. I even felt like her sharing this with me was a way of Jesus’ light reaching out for me, just how Easter Vigil Mass usually begins in darkness. From there, one person holding a lit candle lights the candle of the person next to them, lighting the next—a succession until the entire church is shining brightly. I don't know what kind of year it has been for you. Maybe you've had some of your best days this year or maybe you've had some really challenging ones. Maybe you're finally enjoying what you hoped for and worked towards for years, or maybe you're starting over again. In any case, the light of Christ is here for you—and your circumstances, and your hopes, and your worries. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1:3). Keep coming back to this. Let's reach out for His light in this New Year, and let’s share that light with those around us. [bctt tweet="Let's reach out for His light in this New Year. // Annie Deddens " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Blessed are those who fear the Lord and walk in his ways. // Psalm 128:1 When I was growing up, my dad was the headmaster at the private school my siblings and I attended. One year, he gave each of us a wallet-sized copy of his school picture and wrote a message on the back. “To Rach,” my dad wrote to me, “my favorite 4th grade Swenson.” My dad loved me for me, and I was Rachel, a Swenson, in the 4th grade. I was seen and loved by my father. The readings and responsorial today show the importance of fatherhood: We should honor our father and care for him in his old age. We should fear the Lord and walk in His ways. The Gospel offers the perfect tie-in of the Heavenly Father to that of Our Lord’s earthly father in Saint Joseph cooperating with the Father’s will by getting Jesus to safety after His birth. For those of us blessed to be seen and loved by good earthly fathers, we have a foretaste of Heaven. We have experienced a taste of the love that God our Good Father pours out. The gift of God the Father’s love, however, is that it is available to each of us, in equal measure. We are all seen and loved for who we are—for who you are—by our Heavenly Father. The Father pours out His healing, all-knowing love into you. God the Father, help me to experience Your love for me. Help me to know I am seen and loved unconditionally by You. Amen. [bctt tweet="The Father pours out His healing, all-knowing love into you. // Rachel Balducci " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Beloved: The way we may be sure that we know Jesus is to keep his commandments. // 1 John 2:3 One of the traps of sin is that it blindfolds us. The deeper we are entrenched in sin, the more likely we are to commit more sin, to make excuses, to despair of God’s mercy, and, ironically, to judge others more harshly for their faults. It changes our vision. The darkness of sin is contrasted with Jesus, the Light of the World. By the light of His grace and truth, we are able to really see. Today’s First Reading and Gospel relate to this spiritual seeing. Saint John (see 1 John 2:3-11) speaks about light vs. darkness in relation to God’s commands. When we follow the law of God, we are “in the light” and thus are able to see Him more clearly and respond to the plans He has for us. In the Gospel (Luke 2:22-35), we meet Saint Simeon, a man who had spent years watching for the Messiah. He had been promised that he would not “see” death until he “saw” the Promised One. Simeon was faithful to the Lord, which means he was able to recognize Him as a tiny Babe. Simeon’s whole heart was bathed in the light of following God’s law, so God was able to speak through him. When we keep God’s commands and have eyes for Him, as Simeon did, we are able to see clearly. This not only influences our interior life; it transforms the way we see others. As Saint John proclaimed, we cannot be in the light yet hate our brother. Spiritually seeing by the light shifts the way we treat others. Today, ask the Holy Spirit to remove any blindfolds of sin and show you where He wants His glorious light to shine in your soul. Tell Him about what feels dark in your life and ask Him to bring the light of His Truth. And let’s get to the Sacrament of Confession this week so that we can be cleansed of sin and renew our commitment to following God’s laws. Then, with unimpaired spiritual seeing, let us watch for Him everywhere. [bctt tweet="He wants His glorious light to shine in your soul. // Olivia Spears" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Had not the LORD been with us—When men rose up against us, then would they have swallowed us alive. // Psalm 124:1-3 I love the unique quiet after Christmas. The hustle slows down, and the New Year awaits us in only a few days, with new life and fresh starts in the air. A year ago today, I felt this joy more deeply than I ever have. My adult brothers and I were back together in our childhood home with my oldest brother newly engaged. I spent time with my grandmother, whom I had struggled being apart from during college. I eagerly looked to the New Year, when I’d start my senior year and live in my first apartment. Right after New Years’ Eve, this joy rapidly shifted with the sudden loss of my grandmother and other rising health concerns in my family. For weeks, it was one piece of bad news after another, and I only felt the fragility of the lives around me. It was all unexpectedly soon after just celebrating Jesus’ new life at Christmas. In today’s Gospel, I imagine the stress of Joseph and Mary frantically leaving the danger of Herod. I always wonder if they cried together or tried to make each other laugh to help ease the fear, like my family did. The praises of the shepherds and Magi were gone, and now this vulnerable family of three was moving blindly through a time of unrest. As the Psalmist writes, “had not the Lord been with us” when grief surrounded my family, our loss would have swallowed our trust and joy. When nothing felt steady this past winter, I clung to the simple Christmas message: God is with us. Almost a year later, this unexplainable peace still anchors me, as I cling to nothing but His presence near my still aching and healing heart. Entering the dark night with no time to prepare, the Holy Family had nothing to cling to but their Baby Emmanuel, truly “God with us.” We rarely feel prepared for the suffering we face, but He is always prepared to journey by our side, present and steady as our Prince of Peace. How is your peace, sister? [bctt tweet="Cling to nothing but His presence. // Aubrey Major " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

We are writing this so that our joy may be complete. // 1 John 1:4 The kids wore coats over their pajamas, and each had their favorite blanket in one hand. The younger ones bounced with excitement, but even the middle-schoolers smiled in anticipation. My husband and I handed out cups of hot chocolate, brimming with gooey marshmallows under tight lids that were topped with stickers. Each one shared their sticker. “Cool, cool. The Three Wise Men,” said my preteen son. “Oooooh! I have Mary and Baby Jesus with a STAR!” said my youngest daughter. We laughed and made our way to the already warm van. With Christmas music playing, we began our annual drive around town, looking at our neighbors’ Christmas lights. We pointed out our favorites, sipped our cocoa, and sang along. And my joy was complete. My husband, our kids, and I were not just driving around and looking at lights. We were celebrating the birth of Baby Jesus, the Good News that He has come and the great gift of sharing our faith. What the Father made clear to my husband and I, we have been able to pass on to our children (see 1 John 1:3). Sharing the Gospel with them, and sharing life in Christ with them is JOYFUL. Saint John the Apostle’s feast day is today, and in his first epistle, he wrote, “We are writing this [the Gospel] so that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:4). Life is not to be lived alone, not now and not the afterlife. As we celebrate the Season of Christmas, remember Saint John’s words—our joy is complete in knowing Christ and sharing Him with others. [bctt tweet="Life is not to be lived alone. // Bonnie Engstrom " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

But he, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. // Acts 7:55 Lest you think Christianity is simply the once a year adoration of a Baby born in a manger surrounded by cuddly farm animals, the Church gives us the strong reminder of the demand of Christianity by making the feast of the martyrdom of Saint Stephen the day after the celebration of Christ’s birth. Saint Stephen is the first martyr of the Church. He was stoned shortly after the death of Jesus for his bold proclamation of the Gospel. Those who did not like his words did not simply walk away, ignore, or socially castigate Stephen. Instead they picked up large rocks and formed a mob in order to kill him, all for speaking the words with which the Holy Spirit filled his soul and mind. Saint Stephen knew and believed that Jesus Christ, that Baby born in a manger, was indeed the Savior of the World. A Savior Who came to bring freedom from sin, eternal life, and intimacy with God to each and every person on earth. Saint Stephen could not just live his life basking in knowing Christ while He walked on earth, he had to share the love and power of Christ even if it meant death. That is the power faith in Christ can have on the human heart. The celebration of Christmas does not end in Bethlehem, but in sharing the transforming message of the Gospel to everyone in our lives, no matter the cost. As we celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas, in what small way can you share the Gospel with those in your life? [bctt tweet="Share the Gospel. // Christy Isinger " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

For Zion’s sake I will not be silent, for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet, until her vindication shines forth like the dawn and her victory like a burning torch. // Isaiah 62:1 Silent night, holy night . . . . We sang the Christmas carols in hushed tones, as though to belt them out would break the peaceful joy of Christ’s birth. This unusually warm Minnesota Christmas Day meant we weren’t huddled around the fire for after-dinner music, but actually milling about with our mugs of cider and hot cocoa on the back patio. My extended family singing, curling fingers over mismatched Santa mugs, and gazing up at the stars looked like the perfect holiday. Except it wasn’t. Is any family’s? My nausea with our first pregnancy meant I was off-key more than on, I still hadn’t figured out how to tell my husband that I had blown the gift budget for our first Christmas together, and my sisters were annoyed at me for some unknowable reason. Perhaps this Christmas as we celebrate the birth of Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, we, too, should just let our voices cry out, sing out, like the prophet Isaiah who won’t be silent. Our imperfect voices, our messy families, our joyful hope at His coming. I encourage you, dear sister, to set aside your expectations for your own perfection and turn your heart to worship Jesus’ perfection instead. It is not our victory of achieving a picture-perfect life that needs to try and shine, but rather, His victory over sin and death. Let Him shine forth like the dawn over your life. Merry Christmas! [bctt tweet="Let Him shine forth like the dawn over your life. // Nell O'Leary " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

In the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace. // Luke 1:78-79 Today is Christmas Eve. The Advent season of waiting and preparation is almost over. Tomorrow we celebrate the coming of Jesus into the world, into our homes, into our hearts. Today’s Gospel reading is the beautiful Benedictus prayer of Saint Zechariah. Struck dumb when he questioned the Angel Gabriel’s announcement of Saint Elizabeth’s pregnancy, Zechariah makes the most of his first words after nine months. The first half of the prayer praises God and honors the past, the second half looks to the future and specifically the part that newborn Saint John the Baptist will play in Jesus’ redemption of mankind. As I look back at the last twenty years of Advents in our home, I’m struck by how important our Advent and Christmas traditions have been in creating our family culture. Practices like the Advent wreath, Straw for Baby Jesus, the Jesse Tree, and the Christmas Novena all do for our family what Zechariah does for his family in this prayer. Zechariah teaches about the greatness of God and the importance of the heroes of the past, and he challenges baby John the Baptist to go forward to serve God and make the world a better place. Those are exactly the lessons I want to impart to my children in the midst of the beautiful hubbub of candy and gifts and Christmas movie marathons. Today, in our home, we will look forward to blasting carols and hanging stockings and decorating our Christmas tree. We will wrap gifts and set the table and prepare food for tomorrow’s feast. We’ll also look back: observing today’s recommended fasting and abstinence with a special meat-free dinner, and praying the last day of the Christmas Novena and the Jesse Tree devotion and the Christmas Anticipation prayer. And, like Zechariah did for baby John the Baptist, the very last thing we’ll do before we go to bed tonight is put our Baby Jesus into the manger and sing to Him, like we’ve done for many years in the past and will do for many years to come. [bctt tweet="Praise God. Honor the past. Look to the future. // Kendra Tierney " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

When the time arrived for Elizabeth to have her child she gave birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy toward her, and they rejoiced with her. // Luke 1:57-58 A dear friend of mine got married in her late thirties after nearly two prolonged decades of waiting and searching for a Catholic spouse. She was in her forties when she gave birth to her first-born son. There was so much rejoicing in God’s faithfulness at both her wedding and baby showers. Now my friend was probably quite a bit younger than Saint Elizabeth, who conceived John in her old age after years of barrenness, but the barren women of the Bible can be such beautiful companions during times of waiting in our lives. As we come to the end of Advent, the Gospel today recounts the birth of Saint John the Baptist. His birth was not only both a mercy and joy to Saint Elizabeth, but it was also a cause of great celebration for her neighbors and relatives. Can you imagine the baby showers and meal trains those women might have planned for her? These hidden women of the Gospel were probably each carrying their own suffering; they may have been waiting for God to answer the prayers in the silence of their own hearts. I wonder if they received a renewal of hope as they rejoiced with Elizabeth? Or were some of them too overwhelmed and not quite ready to celebrate with her? The feminine heart is sensitive and complex—and we must hold space for those who grieve in the midst of joyful news. In God’s perfect time, hopefully we will be able to see with clarity that when God blesses one of us, it can become a blessing to all of us. We have a God Who wants to fill our hearts with joy. We have a God Who provides for us on His timeline. We have a God Who stretches our hearts in love during the times of waiting. We have a God Who fulfills His promises in the most surprising ways. And isn’t this what Christmas is all about? As we prepare to welcome the Baby Jesus into our hearts this Christmas, let us lean into the goodness, faithfulness, and generosity of our Heavenly Father. And as Jesus comes to us in the Eucharist at Christmas Mass, let every heart prepare Him room! [bctt tweet="We have a God Who wants to fill our hearts with joy. // Rose Coleman " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I prayed for this child, and the LORD granted my request. // 1 Samuel 1:27 Last June I found myself in thick discernment and thick midsummer Florida humidity. I had just ended my time as a FOCUS missionary and traveled from Massachusetts to south Florida for a retreat in hopes of finding some sort of answer as to what to do next. All I wanted was clarity about what was next, but fear and anxiety over my options grew each day. The first day of retreat, I headed to spiritual direction and aired my grievances and frustrations. I spluttered, “I know He’s made a covenant with me. . . . I am just getting frustrated that I do not see it.” She paused and looked at me with tremendous kindness and gentleness and asked me, “How are you holding up your end of the covenant?” You could hear a pin drop in the room. Her words silenced me and, in that moment, I was gifted with clarity greater than insights into my next job prospect. I was the one not holding my end of the covenant. Despite frequenting the sacraments, praying, seeking counsel, I was still holding one thing back: my heart. "That is all He wants. Perhaps take the chance and give Him all of it on this retreat." I knew she was right. I needed to be re-rooted before being re-routed. Sometimes in the midst of confusion and anxiety we can fall into the trap of demanding answers and demanding clarity from Our Lord. We can even pray to all the novenas in the world for answers, but if we are not giving our entire hearts to Him first, we may end up even more frustrated and witness our anxiety growing. In today’s readings, Hannah gives her whole heart to Our Lord, offering petitions with freedom, confidence, and joy. She does not hold back her heart’s desire, but does so knowing that it will require giving her own heart to Him. Where is He inviting you to give all of your heart back to Him today? [bctt tweet="I needed to be re-rooted before being re-routed. // Mariana Pimiento" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come . . . let me see you, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and you are lovely. // Song of Songs 2:13-14 My husband comes home for lunch every day; it’s like a little mini-date for us. A few days ago we sat together on the couch, cozied up, facing our “reading chairs.” We have two reading chairs, one for him and one for me, cushy and comfy, with matching reading lamps situated right next to the fireplace. We have spent countless hours there, quietly reading or saying the Rosary together in the evenings. It’s a little bit of Heaven in my living room. He said, “Pretty soon we’ll be sipping hot tea by the fire and reading and saying our prayers.” We talked about which books we wanted to read this winter, about our prayer intentions, and I thought, Has any woman ever had it so good? For years—decades, sisters—I had printed out the above verses from Songs and had them taped under my keyboard at work. I read them often, nearly wore out that page in my bible: “Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come . . . You have ravished my heart” (Song of Songs 4:9). How I longed to be so loved. The truth is, I have always been so loved, always. It simply took the love of my husband to help me to see it most fully. His has been the most healing love I have ever known. It penetrates most deeply into my heart. I sometimes have to fight against disbelieving it. Like when I put on a lot of weight in illness and lamented this before him, his reply was, “There’s simply more of you to love.” I can scarce believe him. I did a lot of stupid, often self-deprecating things just trying to get loved when I was younger. What a relief it is to understand, the problem wasn’t that I was asking for too much. No, I was asking way too little. Would you allow God to be your true lover, to give you His passionate love as a Christmas present this year? Would you allow Him to speak to your heart of just how enraptured He is with you, His beautiful one? [bctt tweet="I was asking way too little. // Liz Kelly " username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion