I see Him in the most unlikely of places now. He appears in my peripheral vision as I pray, when a bird appears suddenly on my windowsill. My heart stirs in an unusual way when I see the sunset and realize that He created the world with such intention. A smile comes to my mouth and my eyes when the clerk at the checkout line in the grocery store tells me to have a blessed day, and really seems to mean it. Allowing more white space in my calendar invites stillness, which can be terrifying for many of us. It can be a bit uncomfortable starting the morning having so much unstructured time to fill as you look at all the blank space on the page. Many of us have too much on our plates and can’t begin to imagine what 30 minutes of quiet would be like, let alone eight hours. But, this is the place I found myself after moving to a new town once the children left for college. God is Everywhere Following our first move early in our marriage, I dug in my heels and allowed bitterness to burrow its way deeply into the crevices of my heart. A lot of statements with the word "never" played in a loop in my mind. “I will never make friends.” “This will never feel like home.” “I will never like living here.” Yet, God worked to slowly prove me wrong. I did make friends, our house became my home, and I cried and cried when I had to move again. Are Our Eyes—and Schedules—Open? What I discovered over the course of the next five moves is that God is present everywhere. We know this, and yet, how often do we live like we believe this truth? I know a lot of us are busy by virtue of our vocations as mothers, wives, daughters, and friends. But, how many of our activities are crammed into the already-full planners entertaining us as we subtly move further and further away from recognizing God in our day-to-day lives? [bctt tweet="God is present everywhere. We know this, and yet, how often do we live like we believe this truth? #BISblog //" via="no"] A Scavenger Hunt for God Turning your day into a scavenger hunt for God makes every minute an adventure. It can help you face the empty spans of time with hope rather than dread, or your busyness with peace rather than anxiety. While God does not hide Himself from us, our multi-tasking minds make it difficult for us to find Him. When my mind is playing a loop of the track I laid down full of “nevers” and “not going to happens,” it is nearly impossible for me to recognize God in my needy neighbor who inevitably stops me at my mailbox as I am hurrying out the door, late for my next appointment. I meet her in a rush of excuses and apologies, get in my car, and drive away with a undefined feeling that maybe I should have handled the conversation differently. Not liking the uncomfortable emotion, I listen to my favorite uplifting playlist to distract me from the questions that bubble up in silence. Taking Notice Our minds have the delightful way of beginning to notice what we are looking for. This season, I started to notice a certain color was coming back in fashion. Within days, I began seeing this shade of rust everywhere I looked. People were wearing rust, designers added rust accents to the rooms featured on decorating blogs. I stopped my scroll each time I saw rust on an Instagram post. What would happen if you started looking for God in the same way you hunt for this season hottest shoes? He Makes this Life Exciting Conducting a scavenger hunt for God makes life more interesting. God is present in so many parts of our day that, in the past, we might have been too distracted to notice. Waking up wondering where He is going to show up today adds a little bit of excitement to an otherwise ordinary day. This shift in your frame of reference can happen no matter how busy your schedule. Is He going to be in a phone call? Will He show up in the lightning in a late season storm? Will He be in the answer to a long forgotten prayer? Being on the lookout ensures you will not miss Him. The Transformation After I started my scavenger hunt, the conversations with my neighbor transformed. I began to notice the loneliness in her voice and see the relief in her eyes as we talked. When I was in a hurry, instead of avoiding her, I took the extra minutes to schedule a coffee visit for later in the week. It is amazing the places you find God in your day when you are on the look out for Him. [bctt tweet="A Scavenger Hunt for God #BISblog //" via="no"] Katie Kibbe is a cradle Catholic, raised in Catholic schools in Houston. After getting married, she and her husband moved a lot, which allowed her to experience life in a way that she had not quite planned. To celebrate their 25th anniversary and empty nest, they moved to yet another new state. With two children (one in college and another in law school) and their Jesus-loving dog, they enjoy challenging themselves to try new things outdoors. Katie is the author of Abide: Resting in the Unfailing Love of God. She loves tea with steamed milk, a long walk outdoors, and deep conversations about Jesus. You can find out more about her here.

In her deep anguish, Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying: Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head. -1 Samuel 1:10-11   In the midst of infertility, I found myself on my knees praying the words that Hannah prayed centuries before, though I skipped the part about the razor. I was twenty-six and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was promising. But still, I meant it. The truth of it shook me right there on my knees, on a worn bedroom carpet, my teary eyes gazing at the pattern of the quilt on my bed. I remember that I shuddered a bit before standing up. I had made an irrevocable vow, and I knew it. Keeping My Promise When my son was born about a year later, I was intentional about understanding and owning my beliefs in order to pass Truth on to him, and I found that faith was much bigger and more colorful than I’d been taught. Once I met Jesus, I was all-in on gaining relationship with Him and on raising my son up to God, just as I’d promised. My mother knew my son was special from the start. She had a gift of prophecy that was sometimes eerily correct and sometimes laughably wrong. But she always thought my son would live a big life, and that he’d tell lots of people about God. She never said what form that role might take, but it was something I believed as my son grew to be a four-year-old who built Bible scenes with blocks and figurines and made plans to open a free store for anyone who needed help. Once, during quiet prayer with my husband, my son answered a question aloud that my husband had been silently asking God in his mind with complete understanding and specificity. God was talking and my son was listening. Did I Fulfill My Vow? Like Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, my son grew in wisdom, age, and grace. After high school, he started at the small Catholic college where my husband works and which had become a spiritual home. We rejoiced at the goodness of God. Surely I had completed the work of my vow. I raised my son up to God the best I could and then delivered him into the hands of Jesus and His Mother on the campus of that special school where he’d find the work of his hands. My work was done, my promise fulfilled. I was wrong. Not My Plan, But His Merciful Love In the second year of college, things fell apart for my beloved son in a way I could never have anticipated. It affected his life and ours in every way you can imagine. The months that followed were a rollercoaster of concern, contingency, worry, and questioning. On my knees, I cried out to God, literally sobbing, yelling, and what my Irish ancestors would call keening. There was begging and negotiating and helping and misunderstanding and there was no peace. We were missing each other completely as our once-close relationship soured. I was at the end of my faith, begging God to finally help, to intercede, to rescue us. I had done my part and I was angry that God was not doing His. His Beloved Son Things are different now by the grace of God. My son is standing on his own, but this child’s road is not at all what I thought it would be. You might be wondering where the bravery is in this story that’s so filled with agony, dashed hopes, hysterics, and pain. During each one of those terrible days that stretched through almost two years of suffering, I knew that what God was calling me to was to let go of my son, finally and completely in submission and trust to His will. And I couldn’t do it. I’d often say that if my son ran off a cliff, then I’d go over with him, because how can you ever separate yourself from your child, even when he’s begging you to do it? Even when it’s God’s most primary call on your life? God's Not the Babysitter As my son prepared to move out on his own last month, I’d imagine myself in prayer at the door of the Father’s house with my baby boy in my arms. I had a list of instructions as you’d have for a babysitter and as Jesus stretched out His arms, I’d shrink back and say, “Oh, please, please don’t drop him. Don’t let him fall." And God couldn’t promise me that my son wouldn’t fall. But He did promise that he’d never ever be alone. It wasn’t enough for me. I held him tighter. As I continued in prayer, God reminded me that my son had a big mission and that everything that had happened, though it’s so hard to believe at times, was part of that plan. In order for my son to live the life he was called to live, I had to let him go. There was no choice in the matter. My Son's Mother In my mind’s eye, Mary, the Mother of God, was standing behind her Son. Jesus pointed to her and said that Mary would mother my son as her own. She’d hold him in her protection, feed him what he most needed to take in, cleanse him from the pain of the past, teach him the things he needed to learn, and show him how to walk on his own two feet. She’d be his mother as he grew into the calling that God had for him. In my prayer, I sighed and wrapped up my precious baby boy who holds my heart and my hopes and dreams. I kissed him on the forehead, looked into his eyes, and handed him to God, who loves him even more than I do, and I walked out the door. I gave my son to the Lord for all of his days, just as I promised I would all those years ago. Entrusting my child to Jesus through Mary was the hardest and bravest thing I’ve ever done. Any mothers of adult children out there? How has this reality played out in your own life and motherhood? [bctt tweet="Entrusting Our Children to God as They Grow #BISblog //" via="no"] Written by Kerry Campbell. You can find out more about her here.

I think I watched too many episodes of Friends and Golden Girls in my formative years. I grew up with this idea that when I was an adult, I’d have this amazing, core group of friends. Maybe we wouldn’t live in the Village in New York or in a swanky 50+ community outside Miami, but we’d be ride or die. There’d be the quirky one, the funny one, and the one who’s everybody’s mom (that’s me). We’d always be there for each other through life’s ups and downs, eating cheesecake and drinking copious amounts of coffee. Well, besides the copious amounts of coffee, the friendships I’ve formed in my adulthood don't look much like my younger self envisioned. Why is that? What exactly is so hard about making, being, and keeping friends as adult women? Is It Just Me? I was curious if other women felt like I do. So I created a series of questions on my Instagram Stories. Most of my followers are women in their 30s and 40s, so I thought it would be a good place to start. Here are the questions I asked and the answers I found: Would you say you have “a lot” of friends? // 24% of women responded that they had a ton of friends, while 76% said they didn’t have many. Do you have more acquaintances or real, true “heart friends?” // 74% of women said that they had more acquaintances. Only 26% said they considered the majority of their friendships to be “heart friends.” (Aha! Maybe it isn’t just me after all.) Do you have a woman you would consider to be your “best friend?” // The results were pretty split with 60% saying yes, they did have a best friend, and 40% saying they did not. Digging Deeper The next questions I asked were a little more freestyle. What amazed me, though, were the similarities I found among the answers. What do you find difficult about making and keeping friends as adults? Over and over again, one word was repeated: time. There’s not enough of it, scheduling is a nightmare, and we all have so many other obligations filling our calendars. How is it possible to give enough time to our families, our significant others, our jobs, and our friends? It can be so difficult to invest enough time to really get to know people. Another difficulty mentioned was in actually meeting people. Whether because of the military lifestyle, living in a rural area, or the more online-orientation of our current lifestyles, it’s harder to actually meet people face-to-face. Some said that it’s difficult to make and keep friends when we fear rejection, especially if we’ve been hurt in previous friend relationships. Others noted that our lives change so much in our 20s and 30s (getting married, having babies, moving, etc.), it can be hard to stay attached to friends we had in other seasons of life. Some pointed out that it might be challenging to find friends as adults with similar values and commitment to faith that we have. But it’s not all doom and gloom! What makes you happiest about your adult friendships? Authenticity and transparency were the key focus here. We have such a desire to be seen, known, and loved in all areas of our life, but certainly with those women with whom we choose to share our time and truth. We love being able to share the silly along with the serious. And we want to encounter women just as they are, accept and love them, and have that gift returned to us. We have realized that we don’t only need to be friends with women our own ages! In fact, when we widen our circles, we gain so much from the wisdom of our older friends and the outlook of our younger friends. We love praying with and for one another. We feel more comfortable with increased vulnerability and an overall lack of drama. And we are blessed by those friends who have become more like family over the years. The Influence of Social Media on Having Friends as Adults We live in a world where we can be “friends” with people we’ve never actually met and total strangers can “follow” us online. Whether we want to admit it or not, we use “likes” to validate us and measure our worth against others we don’t even know. In decades past, our grandmothers wrote letters and our moms paid for long-distance phone calls. But us? We write pithy Facebook statuses, make videos for Instagram stories, and try to present the best of ourselves to the world by filling square upon square of curated images for the ‘gram. We tweet and re-tweet, pop into each other’s DM boxes, and tag in statuses and pictures, being real-life encouragers in a very virtual world. That’s not to say we can’t form excellent relationships through the internet. I mean, welcome to Blessed is She, right? What a hypocrite I’d be if I said that wonderful relationships couldn’t be formed in an online ministry. Even here, though, what is the purpose? To draw us closer in our relationship with God and with each other in real life! So, Now What? This is all well and good, but what are we supposed to do now? How can we take this reassurance that our experience of friendship—whatever that may be—is totally normal? How can we deepen our friendships? Regardless of whether or not we are currently satisfied with our experience of friendship, one thing is certain. Just as women grow and change through ages and stages, so do our friendships. As we move forward from here, let’s ask ourselves a couple questions and really, honestly, think about our answers with no judgment, only grace. Am I praying for my friends? The ones I have, and the ones I desire? The ones I know well and those I’d like to know better? Am I being the friend I would like to have? Do I make my friends a priority? Am I open to friendship with women in different seasons of life? Do I treat people as acquaintances or truly let them into my heart? In the Company of Good People “What a great favor God does to those He places in the company of good people.” -St. Teresa of Avila. So whether you are a Rachel, a Monica, or a Phoebe… Whether you view the world like a Sophia, a Rose, a Dorothy, or a Blanche (well, maybe not a Blanche)... Or if, instead, we model ourselves after the saintly friendships of Mary and Elizabeth, Perpetua and Felicity, Basil and Gregory, Louis and Zelie, John Paul and Teresa... My dearest hope for all of us in our friendships is that we find people with whom we can be ourselves. May we be seen, known, and loved for who we truly are. Authentically, transparently, without fear of rejection, and full of love for those of all ages and stages. May we find (or make) the time to invest in real and true friendships of the heart. And wherever we are, may we continue to find ourselves in the company of good people. What's been your experience of making and keepings friends as adults? [bctt tweet="What’s So Hard About Making, Being, and Keeping Friends as Adults? #BISblog //" via="no"]

Our daughter often falls asleep on the drive home from Mass. Sadly, she is not the kind of toddler who can be transferred from car to bed once she has fallen asleep. Wanting her to get her nap for our own sanity’s sake, my husband and I often find ourselves sitting in the driveway after Mass for an hour or so, waiting for the toddler to wake up. This particular Sunday, we were whispering our frustrations and struggles, wrestling with that timeless cliche, “Why is this so hard?” Six months prior, we had packed up our cramped apartment, loaded up the kid and the dogs, and moved to a brand new city in a brand new state for two amazing jobs. The move was a very clear answer to prayer after years of struggling in a small town “desert” with no family and few friends. Confident in our discernment, we were grateful and joyous to enter a new “Promised Land” era for our family. Half a year had passed since then, and we still found ourselves scrimping and scraping to fulfill all of our professional and personal responsibilities. We could not help but reflect on the Biblical description of the Promised Land as a place “flowing with milk and honey.” At first we thought this area of our life should have a little more sweetness—and maybe even more passive receptivity in accepting God’s gifts—than what we were currently experiencing. Then, my background as a High School Scripture teacher came in handy, flickering on a light in our dark confusion. Reliance on God is Always Necessary The book of Joshua tells the story of the Israelites' long-awaited entrance to the Promised Land. After hundreds of years of slavery, and almost half a century in the desert as penance for their lack of faith, the Israelites finally encounter paradise. A novice Scripture reader might be tempted to expect this story to play out the same way my husband and I were unconsciously viewing our own situation: as a bit of a handout, a gift dulled out as a retribution for all the years of hardship before. But that is not what happens in the story. God led the Israelites to the Promised Land, and then they are faced with the task of conquering it. This land is “flowing with milk and honey.” Its location is great for trade, and different regions all have their own source of natural wealth. It is such a valuable location in the eyes of man that multiple nations are already well established within its borders. Cities are well built and fortified. Armies and powerful kings stand at the helm of every region. Despite all this, God tells the Israelites, “this land I give you,” and tasks them with an undertaking that is only possible if they continue to rely on God. God Works Miracles Spearheading this conquest, Joshua leads the Israelites into situations of immense danger and guaranteed failure. They face giants, cities with multiple walls, armies that outnumber them immensely. Yet the Israelites win these impossible victories. It’s no cakewalk; the Israelites have to deal with all the difficult conditions a human could face, including ridicule and exhaustion. But they continue to rely on the promise of God. They get up, fight in faith, and win for themselves a new homeland. Here, Too Just as I finished sharing all this with my husband, the little one in the back seat rejoined the conscious. My husband and I resolved to read the book of Joshua together to help inspire us to better face our daily difficulties. A few days later, I received a copy of the Blessed is She Lent Journal, Here, Too and had to smile at the goodness of the Holy Spirit. This year, our community as a whole will be reflecting on all the different places we encounter God. Drawing on physical places in Scripture and linking them with beautiful spiritual metaphors, the writers gently sway the soul with their words, connect the Word of God with experiences that hit close to home. They share reflections of time spent in the desert, at home, on the road, in the storm, on the mountain, in the garden, and at the tomb. We are invited to reflect deeply on the ways in which God encounters His children in these places. No matter where you are in life (spiritually or physically), God wants to encounter, strengthen, and love you right there. Just like He did with the Israelites. The question all of us must answer for ourselves is: are we ready? [bctt tweet="Unexpected Challenges of the Promised Land #BISblog //" username="grace_swap"]

For my own eyes have seen the salvation. // Luke 2:30 Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Mariana Pimiento of Big Apple Catholic. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

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I was on the phone with a friend, talking about living with anxiety and getting ready to go back to school. She admitted, “I’m scared I can’t do it. I won’t be able to balance school, work, and being social, all while trying to keep my anxiety in check.” I responded, “Well you can’t.” Cue awkward silence. I kept going, “Wait, wait, wait. Let me explain. I don’t mean you can’t do it at all. I mean you can’t do it alone. No one can.” Does It Really Take a Village? We’ve all heard the saying, “It takes a village.” But how often do we actually rely on that village? In the old days, everyone in the village had his or her job. The baker baked her loaves of bread; the butcher supplied the meat for supper. The officer kept the peace; the seamstress wove clothes; the doctor took care of every cough, sneeze, and ailment. Everyone had a role. It didn’t matter if I was a terrible baker because that wasn’t my job. My job was to do something else. I relied on everyone around me to do their respective jobs and do them well, just as they relied on me to do so. Unrealistic Expectations We do not expect a surgeon to spend eight hours in the operating room in solitude. We do not expect one person to put out a fire. A quarterback doesn’t walk on to the field alone. No one in the villages of the past, nor in occupations today, was or is expected to do it alone. So why do we feel the need to do the hardest things by ourselves? We live in a world where there is a stigma on asking for help, yet there is no prize in doing anything alone. Afraid to Ask for Help I am often scared to ask for help. I feel like I am supposed to be this smart, capable, have-it-all-together super-woman. If I were to ask for help with homework or with dinner, I would be disappointing the person I am asking. This, in fact, is not the case. But I learned that the hard way. Reaching Out There is a reason I was talking to my friend about anxiety, just two years prior I had been in the same position. For about eight months, I tried to tough it out and figure it out on my own. Go on more runs, visit Adoration more frequently, keep up with my school work and tests. It wasn't working. When I would talk to my mom about it, she more than once gently suggested I visit the on-campus counseling center. I held out for months, afraid of what might happen in counseling but more afraid of what my family, classmates, and closest friends would think if they found out. I finally did go, and have been for two years now. I had to learn to ask for help, to lean on those around me. First it was just my mom. Then it was my mom and my counselor. Eventually, I told my closest and oldest friends, still scared they would judge me, think negatively me, or no longer want to be my friend because I had finally admitted that I could not do it all on my own. Their responses quelled all those fears. Rather than judge me, they supported me. Rather than think negatively of me, they cheered that I had accepted help when I needed it. A Village Takes Time Your village doesn’t have to be the whole village immediately. It can be just one person. And when you’re ready, invite one more person in. Jesus said “I will be with you until the end of the age,” (Matthew 28:19-20). Sometimes I don’t always see or feel or hear Him nearby. It’s taken me awhile to figure out, in those moments, just exactly where He is. He’s in all the people around me: my roommate when I’m having a difficult time with a new concept from class, my sister offering to get coffee when I just need to get out of the house and let my mind reset. It takes practice, humility, and sometimes vulnerability to actually lean on your village. So ask for help editing your resume. Text the neighbor for help with your kids after school. Seek professional counseling if you think you might need it. Be open with where you are at currently and what you need help and support in. Because no one is asking you to do it alone. Who is in your village? How do you lean on them vulnerably for support? [bctt tweet="Where Is Your Village? #BISblog //" via="no"] Renee Setter is a Nursing student at Benedictine College, pursuing her heart’s desire to care for the mind, body, and soul of each person she comes across, one clinical at a time. She is a lover of all things Christmas, coffee, and Gilmore Girls. You can often find her reading or knitting on a rainy day.

Honoring the Sacred Heart in the world is a practice of both/and. We have interior work to do, which naturally permeates to the external, and back again. Already this week we have examined the ways that we might conform our hearts to the Sacred Heart through imitation and prayer, animated and nurtured by God’s deep love for us. The other half of this devotion is active...

Recently, I was listening to a homily by Fr. Mike Schmitz in which he recounts a comment he heard by a choir member one morning at Mass. She leaned over and, looking out at the gathered community, whispered to her neighbor: “I see dead people.†You know what she means...

There are two striking touch points that Pope St. John Paul II includes in this excerpt which I find comforting: encounter and the heart. Pope Francis has been describing a "culture of encounter" since the beginning of his papacy in 2013—the idea that we are changed by engaging our Faith in the world and the people in it. He says, “Whenever we encounter another person in love, we discover something new about God.†We know this to be true in our own experience, whether we can relate to these discoveries in terms of our best friends, or those whose opinions and perspectives challenge us most deeply. If we’re lucky, these attributes can be true of the same people...

Before I met my husband, I was so annoyed by people with boyfriends. They spent all their time together, talking nonstop, always considering what the other person wanted or thought. It was confusing, though. Because while I was annoyed by it and thought they were a little odd, I couldn’t help but want what they had! As much as these relationships were foreign to me, I was jealous of the connection I saw. Fast forward 20+ years and I found myself in a very similar position. This time, though, it wasn’t a human relationship I was jealous for. It was a relationship with Jesus. Questions I was asking myself the same questions that haunted me as a young woman. How was it that my friends and colleagues had these amazing relationships that seemed so distant to me? What did they do that I so obviously didn’t that made these relationships possible? Was there something wrong with me? But on the other hand...didn’t it seem weird how close they were? They talked to Jesus all the time! And then, weirdest of all, they told me how Jesus talked to them! How was that even possible? Once again, I found myself jealous of something I didn’t understand, yet wanted desperately. Growing In the past year or so, I’ve been on quite a journey of growth. I knew that, for my emotional sake and the sake of my faith, I needed to figure out what this was all about. The more I’ve opened up to others, the more I have found that my questions aren’t uncommon. A lot of my friends want to know the same thing. I have grown up. I am comfortable in Catholicism. But the Person of Jesus escapes me. Does that mean my faith isn’t as strong as it should be? Is it not as good as this friend’s or that mentor's? Does God not love me as much as He does these other people? The answers I am only beginning to uncover as I continue on my faith journey are rocking me. And I have a priest whose name I never even knew to thank for it. Shine In September of 2019, I attended the Shine retreat in Nashville. I was there with some friends and with my mom and, while I didn’t know exactly what God would do in that weekend, I remember having a feeling of unsure expectation. Something was coming, but what would it be? Would it even be for me? Or would one of these women I loved be touched in a meaningful way? The talks that weekend all centered around light. The light that is Jesus shines into our darkness and cannot be overcome. Jesus wants to be and to bring that light in each of our lives, regardless of the darkness we carry. Time and again, these beautiful women who spoke said phrases like… “God said to me in prayer…” “Then, Jesus told me…” “I heard the Spirit say to me…” I have to be honest, those comments tore me apart. There were those same questions I had been asking myself for ages, rearing their ugly heads again. What was wrong with me that God didn’t talk to me? What did these women have that I didn’t? I wanted Jesus, so where was He?! Confession Midway through the Saturday of the retreat, we were offered the opportunity to go to Confession. Naturally, I took it! Hundreds of retreatants lined up in the beautiful cathedral, praying the Rosary together as we waited our turn to unburden ourselves. Scattered around the church were about 15 wonderful young priests, ready and waiting in persona Christi to offer us forgiveness and renewal. When my turn came, I sat down in the pew next to a young priest. We began and he gave me space to confess my sins. What came pouring out of my mouth, though, instead of the litany of wrongs I had done, were all of these questions I had been asking myself all weekend! And that wonderful man just let me go. He listened, nodded, even commented that he had asked himself some of the same questions before! And when I had exhausted all of my energy and longing, he quietly said something I will never forget. It is good that you want this deeper relationship with Jesus. There is a special grace in the wanting. But your relationship with Him won’t and shouldn’t look like anybody else’s relationship with Him. He wants to love you in a way that is unique to you.   Revelation Truly, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. God does want a relationship with me! And He knows me well enough and loves me so completely that the relationship we have is supposed to look different than everyone else’s. So maybe He does speak to others so that they can discern His voice. He also knows I would think I’d lost my mind if He did that to me. Maybe He shares Himself in big, ostentatious ways with people who have big, ostentatious faiths. But He also knows that my faith is like a slow burn, quietly unassuming, but always there. He knows that He needs to approach my heart quietly and subtly. Yes, sisters, this was my experience, but the message is for all of us. And I don’t want you to forget it, so I’ll say it again. God does want a relationship with you! And He knows you well enough and loves you so completely that the relationship you have together is supposed to look different than everyone else’s relationship with Him. And if you don’t feel that relationship yet? Lean in. There is grace in the wanting. A Prayer Here's a prayer I wrote in my journal that day. It’s one that I continue to sit with every time I feel lonely or lost; every time I meet Jesus in Adoration. Jesus, I want a real relationship with you. Help me to put aside my pride and jealousy of what others have. Let the love You shower on me bring me peace and joy. Let it form in me a new identity, secure in who I am to You and through You. And, from there, make clear my mission in this world and help me accomplish it. Amen.   Can you relate to this kind of longing? How has Jesus brought you closer to Him in unique ways? [bctt tweet="Grace in the Wanting: Searching for a Unique + Intimate Relationship with Jesus #BISblog //" via="no"]

“The world will be saved by beauty,†we hear. These words consoled Dorothy Day, which tell us a great deal about the needs of the human spirit. In her houses of hospitality in New York City during the Great Depression and beyond, she witnessed the ugliness of poverty and addiction on a daily basis. She knew what it meant to long for and to be filled by beauty...

In the musical Wicked, the popular Galinda gives a makeover to her nerdy, offbeat roommate. Galinda presents herself as the fortunate, intelligent friend who, out of the kindness of her heart, deigns to help the less fortunate, the less informed, the lesser. I laugh at Galinda’s presumptuous vanity. But when I minister to others, sometimes I unwittingly adopt that very attitude. It’s easy to simplify my interactions, imagining myself as an angelic messenger bringing light into the darkness. I have to remind myself that, in God’s eyes, I am a beggar sharing with another beggar. And perhaps that other beggar has something important to share with me as well. Those I serve owe me nothing, yet they often bless me in ways I didn’t realize I needed. God provides opportunities to receive His blessing through others in both formal and informal ministries. By recognizing that those I serve are my equals, I allow God’s love to flow freely. [bctt tweet="When I serve someone else, I am a beggar sharing with another beggar. And perhaps that other beggar has something important to share with me as well. #BISblog //" via="no"] Being Served During Informal Ministry Sometimes the Holy Spirit nudges me to say an encouraging word, lend a hand, or give a gift to someone in my community, such as a grocery store queue acquaintance or a member of my small group. With friends, it’s easy to see how giving and receiving often come full circle, and it’s easy to feel like we are all equals. But I have difficulty when I am called to serve someone whose circumstance is far outside my own experience, such as someone panhandling on a street corner. I can get stuck in “Galinda mode,” feeding my pride with each act of service. I Am Poor Like All the Poor A few years ago at a sandwich shop, an older gentleman with frizzled grey hair and smelly clothes asked me for change. I bought him lunch. While we ate outside the sandwich shop, a tall bald man marched up to us and offered to pray with us. My lunchtime companion shrugged, then asked the street missionary to pray for his estranged children and for recovery from an addiction. They turned to me, and I asked them to pray for a loved one who was sick. We stood and held hands, a triangle of people with very different lives, and prayed for each other, asking God to bless each situation and each heart. While I often find myself with a surplus of material blessings to share, I need grace and prayer as much as anyone else. Now, I try to keep my heart open when I serve in a spontaneous informal capacity. Being Served During Formal Ministry In formal ministry, I may represent a parish or diocese, a medical facility, or a professional organization. Strictly defined roles, structured encounters, and behavioral boundaries are important. To protect the ones I serve, I must follow the rules and principles established in Safe Environment training (or its equivalent within the professional entity). It is unethical to accept expensive gifts, elaborate favors, or emotional support from a ministry participant, patient, client, or professional contact. Even so, there are appropriate ways to receive God’s blessings through those I serve. They inspire me, challenge me, and share their wonderful personalities with me. Bringing Light As a Speech Therapist, I often see patients and families in vulnerable moments. They are navigating life with a disability in a world that doesn’t make it easy. Their perseverance motivates me to get through tough days; I am challenged to grow in patience, charity, and self-love. In this regard, there is little I can offer my patients. I can only receive their wisdom and draw strength from their example. Often, my patients do small but extraordinary things to make me smile. During feeding therapy, my patients have offered me slimy bites of strange concoctions. During language therapy, sometimes they talk excitedly about their passions, the plot of their new favorite movie, or an exciting event at work or school. Sometimes, patients give creative compliments or tell funny jokes. On days when I have closed myself off, moments like these crack my heart open, letting the light in. Redefining “The Least of These” Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. -Matthew 25:40 So often I imagine the ones I serve as “the least of these.” After all, often I serve someone who seems “less fortunate” than me—materially, medically, or in some other way. Society views those who need help as “lesser.” But Jesus doesn’t. He calls me to let go of my pride and to treat those I serve as my equals. We are, all of us, “the least of these.” When I acknowledge my own weaknesses and allow those I serve to serve me in their own way if they choose, everyone’s experience is richer. When I am open to receiving God’s blessings through those I serve, I value their dignity as whole persons, and I can truly delight in them. Whether I am serving others spontaneously and informally or in a professional or formal setting, God calls me to be both a conduit and a recipient of His grace and love. How are you both a servant and a recipient of service in your own life? [bctt tweet="To Serve and Be Served #BISblog //" via="no"] Kiki Hayden is a freelance writer and bilingual Speech Therapist living in Texas. She is a Byzantine Catholic. Here is more about how God has changed her life through speech therapy. You can find out more about her here.

There is a park I love and hate to take my kids to when it gets really hot. It is half awesome slides, half splash pad. As you can imagine, this is wildly popular among the families in our community, so it is always packed. I love it because my kids have a blast. I hate it because it is mentally exhausting to watch little ones up, down, and around all of the play equipment. Because, ultimately, I am afraid of them being separated and the accompanying feeling of fear that quickly follows until I can find them again...

Two things washed over me as I listened to the lyrics of Matt Maher’s song, Garden...

For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with the wisdom of human eloquence, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its meaning. // 1 Corinthians 1:17 Download these beautiful free wallpapers from Jazmin De Guzman from today's readings. Let His word dwell in us richly, sisters. Remember, Members, you get this 8x10 digital download for free! Head to the shop for your download. Download your F R E E wallpapers right here --->>> Phone wallpaper Desktop wallpaper

Upon becoming a new dad, a friend of mine described the experience of bringing a new baby into a room as inviting all occupants to a "baby campfire." I instantly knew what he meant. Instinctively, we know to gather, to see with new eyes, and allow ourselves to become transfixed on the thing of beauty before us...