August 4, 2026  // Memorial of Saint John Vianney, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 14:22-36 Reflect on the Word // Sitting down in my family room, hot coffee in one hand, my Bible in the other, I was finally taking some necessary time with God. But within minutes, my mind started to wander: mentally composing an email, thinking about my twins’ upcoming graduation, wondering how I would get to two baseball games in one afternoon, and reviewing the budget (or lack thereof). Beneath it all was a constant hum of anxiety. Although I knew prayer would help, I kept putting it off until life felt more manageable—but that season never came. In today’s Gospel, Jesus takes a different approach. Surrounded by needs and demands, He makes time for prayer first. Between miracles, He dismisses the crowds, sends the Apostles ahead of Him, and goes “up on the mountain by himself to pray” (Matthew 14:23). What a stunning realization: If Jesus, the Son of God, needed prayer, how much more do I? The Gospel then turns to Peter, who walks steadily on water when his eyes remain on Jesus, but begins to sink when he notices the storm. I often do the same, letting life’s pressures capture my attention rather than keeping my gaze fixed on Christ. When Jesus asks Peter why he doubted, it isn’t a rebuke but an invitation to trust in the power of prayer. Too often, I doubt that time with Him is worth protecting or that He can handle the very things that distract me during prayer. The truth is, my sisters, that all of us experience “storms” in our lives—not always crises but the steady accumulation of responsibilities, worries, and challenges that slowly pull our attention away from Christ. Will we keep our eyes on Jesus amid life’s competing demands? Today’s Gospel reminds us that prayer keeps our focus where it belongs. The winds and waves of life are real but so is the One Who says, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid” (Matthew 14:27). Relate to the Lord // Make a plan for prayer today. Where can you block out twenty minutes to be with the Lord?

July 4, 2026 // Saturday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time // Independence Day [In the Dioceses of the United States] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 9:14–17 Reflect on the Word //  This birthday was different. Familiar joy didn’t bubble up; instead I felt uncertainty, bittersweetness, even a pang of regret. Were my forties all they could have been? Why didn’t I feel I had anything to show for the last ten years? As I turn fifty, instead of a house full of six children, my nest is quickly emptying. How I spend my time and what I focus on are all new. Facing a new decade brings a whole new experience of life. Roles that once fit comfortably no longer do. And I can’t help but wonder: Who am I? Who am I becoming? It can be tempting to ignore the tension, to keep stretching myself to fit what has always been. But Jesus reminds me in today’s Gospel that new wine cannot be poured into old wineskins. If it is, both are lost: “the skins burst, the wine spills out, and the skins are ruined” (Matthew 9:17). Instead, new wine requires “fresh wineskins”—space that can expand, stretch, and hold what is being created. The image of the wineskins reminds us that new seasons are not meant to be forced into old patterns, identities, or expectations. The tension does not indicate failure, nor is it something to resist. Rather, we are invited to take the next step into a new season of life. While many women feel this most acutely in midlife, this truth is not limited to that season. A young woman finding her voice, a new bride adjusting to her vocation, or someone beginning again after loss—all experience moments when the old wineskins no longer fit the new wine. Today’s Gospel reminds us that in every season, God is always doing something new, inviting us forward, not backward. My sister, Jesus does not ask us to preserve what has already been stretched beyond its limits. Instead, He invites us to trust the new life unfolding within us. Let us not cling to who we have been, but become who we are being made to be—trusting that God will provide the space, grace, and courage we need to receive all that is new. Relate to the Lord // What new thing is God doing in this season? Ask for the grace to receive all that He has for you.

June 10, 2026 // Wednesday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: 1 Kings 18:20–39 Reflect on the Word //  The silence of the church beckoned me to fix my gaze on the miracle taking place before me. As I knelt, the priest whispered prayers of consecration to the Father as the Son took the form of bread and wine right before me. Jesus was there—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.  How am I so blessed to be Catholic? What a gift to be a beloved daughter of God through Baptism! And yet, do I fully live this reality in my daily life? Or do I “straddle” my faith with a divided heart? Long after Mass, I continued to reflect upon my desire to belong fully to God and my conflicting tendency to choose comfort and ease, especially when life presents challenges. How often do I scroll instead of pray when I feel restless or uncertain? Why do I avoid the discomfort of waiting when I know God has a purpose for it? In today’s First Reading, Elijah asks the people, “How long will you straddle the issue? If the LORD is God, follow him; if Baal, follow him” (1 Kings 18:21). They, too, live in that middle space, belonging to God but also wanting to stay comfortable. In this passage, I heard God gently pointing out how much I rely on comfort. Not in big, obvious ways, but in subtle habits that keep me from Him—scrolling when distracted, shopping for a quick sense of satisfaction, or turning to food when feeling lonely or sad. While we may not think of these as idols, they do take His place. They are what we turn to first. And like the idol of Baal, they never really answer when we call on them. Perhaps today, my sister, Elijah’s question is our invitation to stop living with divided hearts, to stop choosing what numbs us, and to stop trying to escape what is uncomfortable or painful. Instead, let us choose God more fully in every small decision that we make: what we reach for, how we spend our time, how we respond to the circumstances of ordinary life. Relate to the Lord // Visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament today or this week. He is truly present and waiting for you there.

May 11, 2026 // Monday of the Sixth Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 15:26-16:4 Reflect on the Word // It all happened one right after the other: job loss, illness, the loss of a loved one. It didn’t seem possible, and it certainly didn’t seem fair. I remember the day when the tears wouldn’t stop, when anger and hurt rose up so strongly I couldn’t contain them. All I wanted was normalcy. Calm. Peace. How much crushing and pressing can my heart bear, Lord? And what am I supposed to do with it all? I had no choice but to surrender—not easily, but simply. I accepted and embraced this cross, because what else was I supposed to do? Nothing happens in this world by mistake. As I surrendered, I waited for and trusted the Lord to come to my aid. In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to His friends just before He is betrayed. He does not hide the truth: suffering will come, the world will oppose them, and their hearts will be tested. Then, He offers them a promised gift—His Holy Spirit. “When the Advocate comes whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth [. . .] he will testify to me” (John 15:26). Jesus is not only speaking to the Apostles. He is speaking to us too. My sister, life on earth is hard. We will experience loss and disappointment, pain and heartache. There will be days of sorrow and moments of anger. And while our first instinct may be to run in the opposite direction and wish it all away, Jesus invites us to stay: “I have told you this so that you may not fall away” (John 16:1). Through His Holy Spirit, He promises never to abandon us and to always bring us comfort and help. When we reach those tipping points, let us not forget Jesus’ promise. Let us lean in closer and trust that the Holy Spirit will settle the unsettled parts of our hearts with His grace, peace, and love. Relate to the Lord // Ask the Holy Spirit for the grace you need today. 

April 15, 2026 // Wednesday of the Second Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 5:17-26 Reflect on the Word // I am sitting in a cage—one fit for an animal, not a person. The key is in my hand, yet I remain afraid. This cell has become safe; no one can hurt me here. Inside this interior prison, I avoid being myself if it might lead to rejection. But I know this is not who God created me to be. In my holy imagination, I see Jesus walking toward me. Although metal bars separate us, I can feel the radiance of His love. Please come out. He invites. You don’t belong in there. I know He has the power to unlock the door—or vanish the cage altogether—but He doesn’t. He respects my freedom. This prison is my choice. I take one deep breath of courage. I am not powerless. I place the key in the lock and turn it. The gate swings open, and I step onto soft grass. His hand is extended, but instead of cautiously taking it, I run to embrace Him, no longer afraid. In today’s First Reading, the Apostles are imprisoned for proclaiming Jesus, but during the night an angel opens the door, and they are led, not to a safe hiding place, but back into the temple with a clear command: “Go and tell the people everything about this life” (Acts 5:20). Freedom is given, but it requires courage. They must choose to trust the Lord and step into the light. How often do our own prisons feel safer than being who God created us to be? Behind bars, the risk of rejection is low. Yet there is no room for love inside a cage. When we lock ourselves in, we also lock others out. Today’s First Reading, my sister, is not only about the Apostles. It is about us. God opens doors, but He does not force us through them. He invites us in freedom to witness His love. The key is in our hands. The door may already be open. It’s up to us: Will we remain hidden or step out to share “about this life”? Relate to the Lord // What doors or bars are between you and the Lord’s love? Tell Him about it.

March 23, 2026 // Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent // Optional Memorial of Saint Toribio de Mogrovejo, bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 8:1-11 Reflect on the Word // I sit in the sand, next to the ocean. Waves come in, calm and steady. In my place of prayer, I see Jesus also sitting on the shore. I stand and slowly make my way toward Him, and as I come closer, I notice Him writing in the sand “with his finger” (John 8:6). When He finally lifts His head and looks up at me, the intensity of His gaze crashes into me like a giant wave. With piercing love, He sees past my outward appearance and into the depths of my heart, where my brokenness resides. He knows the childhood trauma. He sees the shame of believing I am unloved and unaccepted. He recognizes the patterns of perfectionism and striving. He sees every wound, every sin, every struggle. Yet, He does not accuse. He does not throw stones. Instead, He rises and reaches for my hand. His radiant smile displays His unconditional love. In that moment, He forgives, pardons, and saves. He embraces me with love, wiping away my tears. All of us are in need of God’s mercy. Whether we identify in today’s Gospel with the woman caught in sin or the self-righteous ready to criticize and judge (see John 8:1-11), we have all experienced moments that have distanced us from Christ. But when we turn back to Him, seeking His mercy and reconciliation, particularly in the Sacrament of Confession, we are restored. As Jesus and I walk the shore, hand in hand, I feel the power of His merciful love flowing through me. An ocean wave rushes over our feet, and it reminds me of the cleansing waters of Baptism—the moment I first became a daughter of the Father. And I am warmed by the reality that I am no longer condemned but redeemed. “Go, and from now on do not sin any more” (John 8: 11). My sister, Jesus came to walk with us, to be in friendship with us. Ultimately, He came to save us, so we could spend eternity with Him. Let’s not delay; let’s open our hearts to His mercy and allow eternity to begin today. Relate to the Lord // Take a walk with Jesus today. Lean into His friendship.

February 28, 2026  // Saturday of the First Week of Lent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 5:43-48 Reflect on the Word // Throughout my faith journey, God has slowly revealed to me the traditional beauty of the Catholic faith. When I discovered a parish that offered a more reverent liturgy, it was a clear next step. I tried to stay active in my former parish because many of my friends were there. But keeping one foot in each place was exhausting, and I knew I had to choose the parish where I encountered Jesus most intimately in the Sacred Liturgy. Slowly, however, friendships from my old parish that I thought were strong felt strained. I tried to keep in touch, but invitations stopped, and I found myself on the outside. While their lives looked full, lively—sunny even—I felt alone. Did I make the right decision? Then Sunday came, and with it, clarity, through the beauty of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. As I imagined myself at the Foot of the Cross, the Lord brought to mind these words from today’s Gospel: “But I say to you, love your enemies [ . . . ] for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust” (Matthew 5:44-45). Were these friends now my enemies? Of course not. Did they hurt me? Yes. Jesus understands rejection more than anyone. He was shunned by those He grew up with in Nazareth. Many people turned away when His teachings were too hard. Even His Apostles abandoned Him when He needed them most. Throughout life, my sister, we will encounter rejection from friends, classmates, coworkers, even family. Each time, we are invited to respond not with justice, but with supernatural charity, so “that [we] may be children of [our] heavenly Father” (Matthew 5:45). Each day, the sun rises on the good and the bad things of life, inviting us to love no matter the cost. It may be hard and it may not ease the pain, but it is an act of trust in a God Whose mercy is deeper than our wounds. Relate to the Lord // Share your heart with Jesus today in a few moments of honest, conversational prayer.

February 12, 2026 // Thursday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 7:24-30  Reflect on the Word // I found myself alone with Jesus in the adoration chapel. Just me and Him. The silence was filled with His presence, and I felt enveloped in His embrace. I walked up to the Blessed Sacrament, as close as I could get, and I gazed at my beautiful Lord. I imagined touching His hem, anointing His head, and falling “at his feet,” much like the woman from Tyre in today’s Gospel (Mark 7:25). Amid tears, I poured out my heartfelt longings to Him. I surrendered my prayers and petitions: my husband’s job, my children’s growing pains, my own physical sufferings. During my time of prayer, my conversation with Jesus moved to remorse and contrition for the times I have been distant from Him: when I have relied more on my weakness than His strength, when I have been too prideful to seek His help, when I have waited for perfect conditions to come to Him. I wonder how long it took for the Tyrian woman to approach Jesus for help. Did she rely on herself to help her daughter? Did she think she could endure it alone? At some point, she recognized her littleness and His greatness. In humility, she came to Jesus with a cry for help. He engaged with her and responded with compassion. As I continued to sit at Jesus’ feet in that adoration chapel, a wave of gratitude washed over me. How am I so blessed? How am I, so unworthy, called by name and welcomed into a Love that knows no bounds? With Jesus, we don’t need to show up perfectly. We just need to come to Him, just as we are: real, raw, open, and honest. There is nothing we need to do to gain His attention or earn His love. We already have it to the brim and overflowing. Jesus healed this Gentile woman’s daughter simply because she came to Him and asked with true faith and an honest heart. What does He desire to do for us if only we would approach Him in prayer? Relate to the Lord // How will you come to Jesus today, just as you are?

December 19, 2025 // Friday of the Third Week of Advent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 1:5-25 Reflect on the Word // When I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I expected daily medication to improve it. Instead, it slowly turned into the autoimmune disease Hashimoto's. I tried to do everything right, but I still gained weight, felt chronically fatigued, and battled brain fog and inflammation. For years, I prayed for healing and relief, and wondered why God didn’t answer my prayers. In the waiting, however, I slowly accepted the cross God asked me to bear. It wasn’t easy, but the longer I waited, the closer I felt to the Lord. During Advent, God invites us to actively contemplate waiting for the coming of His Son, Jesus. The darkness of night, illuminated by candlelight from the Advent wreath, recalls the Jewish people’s long anticipation of the Messiah. In all of their stories, everything that happened in the midst of waiting, pointed toward the Savior. Today’s Gospel Reading is no different. Zechariah and Elizabeth “were righteous in the eyes of God” (Luke 1:6), yet God still sent them a burdensome cross. Like me, when answers to their prayers didn’t come, they must have wondered why. But notice the angel Gabriel’s first words to Zechariah: “Do not be afraid [. . .] because your prayer has been heard” (Luke 1:13). God heard their pleas, saw their tears, and, in time, answered their prayers in a way they never could have imagined. And all the while, they remained close to Him. Yes, Elizabeth’s long barrenness and the couple’s subsequent suffering were part of God’s unfolding plan of salvation—just as her miraculous pregnancy was too. Their story gives us comfort in the midst of our own struggles. God doesn’t ask us to ignore our sufferings but to bring them to Him in prayer, trusting that He will answer us in His time, beyond our imagination. “And you will have joy and gladness” (Luke 1:14). This is Advent hope! That in the waiting, we may remain close to God and see how everything that happens in the meantime leads to Him, Who is the greatest answer to every prayer. Relate to the Lord // Share your sufferings with Jesus today and renew your trust in Him to answer you in His perfect timing.

November 21, 2025 // Memorial of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 19:45-48 Reflect on the Word // I stood in the fitting room, trying on new clothes. Item after item, they all fit a little snug. How did I get here . . . again? I felt embarrassed and ashamed. Returning home from that dreaded shopping trip, I went for a walk. As I made my way around the lake, I listened to a podcast of testimonials from women in Overeaters Anonymous. In their stories, I related to the lack of control, the obsession, the comfort seeking. They put words to my experience. I knew my struggle with food stemmed from woundedness and pain, but that day, I realized it was also a sin of intemperance. And I needed Jesus “to drive out” (Luke 19:45) what was defiling my body, as well as my mind, my spirit, and so many aspects of my daily life. In the gentlest way, Jesus called me out for my bad habits, and at the same time, He invited me into something new, something better. In today’s Gospel, we see Jesus driving out “those who were selling things” (Luke 19:45) in the temple. He disbands this activity, because it was distracting the pilgrims, defiling the holiness of the temple, and disrupting the purpose of that sacred place: union with God. Likewise, each of us is a temple of the Holy Spirit, and the deepest part of our soul is reserved for intimacy with God. However, when poor habits, such as overconsuming food or alcohol, excessive shopping, mindless scrolling, habitual gossip, or other forms of self-indulgence, settle into our temples, we tarnish the space that is meant for God alone. My dear sister, if something is tarnishing your soul, allow the Lord to drive it out, so your “house of prayer” (Luke 19:46) may be cleansed and restored to the cherished space for God it was created to be. Run to the Sacrament of Confession, where your sins or attachments can be relinquished. And hang on to His every word in prayer, for He wants nothing to interfere with your union with Him (see Luke 19:48). Relate to the Lord // Take a walk with the Lord today. Ask Him to help you make space for union with Him.

October 9, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Denis, Bishop and Martyr, and his Companions, Martyrs // Optional Memorial of Saint John Leonardi, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:5-13 Reflect on the Word //  The stress of moving was overwhelming: purging and packing, painters and handymen, outrageous demands from our buyers. As a result, insomnia, anxiety, and chronic pain surged throughout my body. Days before we were scheduled to move, I got so sick, I was bedridden. Where are You? I prayed. Why don’t You want to help me? I related to the friend knocking on the door in today’s Gospel. Only I was begging God for help in the midst of moving and for hope and healing from health issues that this move was aggravating. And just like in the Gospel, God made me wait. He allowed me to be persistent in prayer (in the case of my health issues, for years). Not to be cruel or to punish me—that is not how God works. But to invite me to fully depend on Him—to help me recognize my self-reliance pales in comparison to His grace and strength. As I approached our new home, it was as if the Lord finally opened the door to my knocking. And as I walked through the doorway, my prayers were answered, almost immediately. The insomnia disappeared, the pain throughout my body eased, and my heart found peace—and this was only the beginning of the healing I began to experience. My dear sister, Jesus loves when we pray to Him, and He never tires of hearing from us. He wants us to come to Him with our every need: “[A]sk and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Luke 11:9). Whatever we are praying for today, He invites us to be persistent. He may not answer our prayers right away, because what we may be asking for is a snake instead of a fish (see Luke 11:11). But as we persevere in prayer, our hearts will soften to His ways and conform to His will. So that one day, when we ask, we will receive; when we seek, we will find; and when we knock, the Lord will, indeed, open the door for us. Relate to the Lord // Where do you need to persevere in prayer? Ask again today.   

September 1, 2025 // Monday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 4:16-30 Reflect on the Word //  My family was in the midst of immense, simultaneous hardship—from unemployment and family stress to health issues and the passing of my father-in-law. It was all too much to bear. During prayer, I begged God for a reprieve from the pain and suffering. But it did not come. As time went on and the hardship continued, my begging turned into rage against God and the difficult circumstances He was allowing. Similar to the response of the Nazareans in today’s Gospel, I was “filled with fury” when Jesus’ response was not what I wanted to hear (Luke 4:28). My heart closed off to His divine will, to His grace to endure, to the possible good that could come from such pain. Slowly, through the grace of God, I recognized that my resistance to the Lord was making my situation worse. By not accepting God’s will, I was not living in cooperation with “the Spirit of the Lord” working in my life (Luke 4:18). Instead, I was obstructing and protesting His movements, His grace, His ways of purification. In today’s Gospel, Jesus fulfills the Old Testament prophecy that proclaims Him as Messiah and Lord. Jesus came to save us, because we need saving. This life is too hard to bear on our own, but Jesus came to bear it with us on His Cross. Thus, Jesus came “to bring glad tidings to the poor [. . .] to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord” (Luke 4:18). And we are the poor to whom He brings glad tidings. We are the oppressed captives that He sets free. And when we turn inward and focus on our will, He restores our sight to see His. Today, my dear sister, as we pray with this Gospel passage, let us surrender our resistance, rise above our circumstances, and allow God’s grace to deepen our trust in Him. For He uses all things, even the hardships, for our greater good. Relate to the Lord // Do you relate to your heart being closed off to God’s will? Today, be honest with the Lord about what you truly feel and think.  

July 21, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Lawrence of Brindisi, Priest and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Responsorial Psalm: Exodus 15:1bc-2, 3-4, 5-6 Reflect on the Word // As I close my eyes in prayer, I imagine my heart as a garden with plots of land at various levels of growth. From tiny seedlings ready to sprout to lush blooms, the vibrant color and sweet fragrance reveal God’s glory and splendor. “He is my God, I praise him” (Exodus 15:2). As I look around, I notice one part of the garden remains barren without any growth. Sorrow fills my heart, because I know why nothing is blooming here. For years, no matter how much effort I exuded or what I did to keep up, it never seemed to be enough. As fatigue, chronic illness, and feelings of unworthiness left me frustrated, weeds slowly choked out my self-worth and the potential for flourishing. Turning to Jesus, I want to surrender my self-reliance to Him, but I have tried so many times before; I fear I just don’t know how. In response, Jesus leads me to another part of the garden. He smiles as sheer delight spreads across my face when we come to a field of sunflowers. They have always been my favorite flower. Sunflowers are strong and sturdy, bright and beautiful. They maintain the posture of prayer, always facing the light of the sun. It is a posture God desires each of His beloved daughters to take, keeping our gaze on the Son no matter what. As Jesus and I walk among the towering sunflowers, I am overcome by emotion. I have never felt so cared for. Today’s Responsorial Psalm reminds me that I don’t need to rely on myself, and nor should you, my sister. Because “my strength and my courage is the LORD, and he has been my savior” (Exodus 15:2). And because of this we can trust Him to gently tend the most vulnerable parts of us. And when we do, we will grow and flourish. We will stand strong and steady, as we fix our gaze on the Gardener of our hearts. Relate to the Lord // Ask Jesus to show you around the garden of your heart today. What do you see?

June 11, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Barnabas, Apostle Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Acts 11:21b-26; 13:1-3 Reflect on the Word // I sat at my computer, staring with surprise at the message I just received. “We have an opening at our organization. Are you interested in applying?” I was not looking for work. But the timing could not have been more perfect. Unemployment and financial stress plagued our family, but I assumed my husband would find work again any day now. Instead, God called me to serve our family in a brand new way. I interviewed for and got the job, and I re-entered the workforce after twenty-one years of being a stay-at-home mom. It was quite an adjustment and quite a learning curve. I came home exhausted everyday, and I stressed over when I would have time to go to the grocery store and clean my house. For months, I felt unqualified and overwhelmed by impostor syndrome. While I did not understand this part of His plan for me, I “remain[ed] faithful to the Lord in firmness of heart” (Acts 11:23). It took me over a year to feel comfortable and confident in my work. And there are still days when I long to be a stay-at-home mom. But I am certain that the Lord’s invitation to try something new was about so much more than finances. He desired me to come into my own, to contribute my God-given skills and talents to meaningful work outside of the comfort zone of home. I have grown to trust Him more every day with the truth that I am set apart “for the work to which [God has] called [me]” (Acts 13:2). Today’s First Reading reminds me not to be surprised by the places God takes me. Nor should you be, my dear sister. Because when we are open to His will, and when we live our lives “filled with the Holy Spirit and faith” (Acts 11:24), God will lead us down paths that may be unexpected but are so clearly part of His plan. We may not be able to articulate why, but we certainly know in our hearts that we have been set apart for His work in this world. Relate to the Lord // Ask for the grace to respond to His call in your work today.  

May 7, 2025 // Wednesday of the Third Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 6:35-40 Reflect on the Word // As I enter the chapel, I immediately notice that I’m not alone. The Presence of another is so real, so palpable, filling the entire space and enveloping me in tender compassion. I kneel down before Jesus, truly present in the Holy Eucharist, displayed in the beautiful gold monstrance upon the altar. I feel His gaze upon me, and I imagine His smile. He has been waiting for me. Life has been overwhelming, and I have relied too much on my own strength. I am ashamed that I waited so long to come to Jesus with my struggles. But I am here now, and He reminds me, “I will not reject anyone who comes to me” (John 6:37). Jesus’ love meets me in my need and melts away my weariness and discouragement. He wraps me in His strong yet gentle embrace, and I feel safe enough to collapse into His arms. As I rest in the Lord, I reflect upon all that brought me to this exhausted state: keeping up with my kids, pressures at work, and too many to-dos on my list. All of it caused me to find my fill in other things—like repeated detours to the local coffee shop in order to be comforted and recharged—that only left me empty. And I ignored the only One Who truly satisfies. In today’s Gospel, Jesus reminds us, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst” (John 6:35). My dear sister, Jesus desires to still our hearts, fill our emptiness, and replace our anxiety with His peace. As we pray with today’s Gospel, we remember that the Father has entrusted us to the care of Jesus, and He will not let us out of His sight (see John 6:39). Especially during hectic seasons, we are invited by the Lord to turn to Him first, in order to find refuge, rest, security, and reassurance in the only One Who fills our hearts to the brim. Relate to the Lord // Take a deep breath and rest in the Lord. Right now, right where you are.  

March 21, 2025 // Friday of the Second Week of Lent Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Matthew 21:33-43, 45-46 Reflect on the Word // Standing in the Florida heat, my grade school class picked teams for a thrilling game of kickball basketball. As each classmate was chosen to be on one team or another, I waited, hoping that I would be selected next. But I wasn’t picked. Not until the very end. A feeling of rejection washed over me. It was the first time I remember being self-conscious about my size. Over the past year, I gained some weight. In part because I was an awkward pre-teenager. But also because my home life was falling apart, and I turned to food for comfort. I knew I wasn’t the fastest runner, but I used to love running around the neighborhood with my friends. It made me feel alive and free. Now, all I felt was stuck, isolated, and alone in my grief. The game was close, and I was up to kick. As the pitcher released the ball, I ran up to it and kicked it with all of my might. And I kicked it far, so very far. I ran around the bases, back home, and scored as my team cheered for me. We ended up winning the game, and I was part of the victory. But the real victory had nothing to do with the game. It was about so much more than that. In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a parable that foretells what would inevitably happen to Him. Jesus was rejected in the most real sense of the word, even by His closest friends. But He reminds us that “[t]he stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; by the Lord has this been done, and it is wonderful in our eyes” (Matthew 21:42). As we pray with this passage, Jesus reminds us of His promise to take our rejection, pain, and shame, and make it foundational to our redemption. Just like Christ’s rejection resulted in resurrection, if we unite our suffering to His—meeting Him in that place of rejection—ours will too. That day, playing kickball basketball, the Lord did this for me, and because of it I became part of His fruit-bearing vineyard. Sister, He wants this for you too. When we offer those rejected parts of our lives to Him, we will be amazed by the fruit His redemption will bear in us. Relate to the Lord // Have you experienced the sting of rejection? Turn your heart to Jesus rejected on the Cross and offer Him your pain.  

February 14, 2025 // Memorial of Saints Cyril, Monk, and Methodius, Bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 7:31-37 Reflect on the Word // Entering the solitude of the confessional, the noise of the outside world disappeared. While I knew the priest was waiting for me, it was not his presence that I sensed; it was Someone else’s. As I knelt down, and before I could even utter the words, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” tears began to flow. Not again. I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t cry, even sob, during the Sacrament of Confession. It was a difficult season. One in which I was trying hard to hold it all together for everyone else. Month after month, it was only in the safety of the confessional that I could be honest about my struggle. As I bared my soul and confessed my sins, Jesus opened all those places in my heart that were closed off to the hope of being healed. He opened my lack of faith. He opened the places filled with worry and anxiety. He opened my resistance to love. With each admission, it was as if Jesus was whispering in my ear, “‘Ephphatha!’ (that is, ‘Be opened!’)” (Mark 7:34). And immediately, all those places in my heart, where I was holding everything in, where I was closed off to love, were finally open enough for Him to enter, touch the pain, and heal my wounds. Sister, Jesus longs to open the locked up parts of your heart too. Like He did in the Gospel for the man, He wants to take you “off by [yourself]” (Mark 7:33) in order to personally commune with you and heal you with His embrace. If you close your eyes, can you imagine His tender gaze toward you? With an outstretched arm drawing you in, can you hear Him whisper, “Ephphatha”? Jesus especially longs to meet you in the Sacraments, where we encounter Him in the most intimate way possible. There, He will touch each closed-off part of your heart and open it to a fresh outpouring of His love and grace. All He asks is that you are open to His desire to meet you in your need and heal you according to His will. Relate to the Lord // Imagine His tender gaze toward you. What does He look like? How does it feel?