February 6, 2025 // Memorial of Saints Paul Miki and Companions, Martyrs Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading/Psalm/Gospel: Mark 6:7-13 Reflect on the Word // The newly ordained bishop greeted me at the youth event I was speaking at, and I joyfully asked him, “Do you still smell like oil?” He laughed and said, “Probably! They sure doused me with it!” Do you love the smell of holy oils as much as I do? What a gift it is as Catholics to have symbols like oil that make tangible the work of Jesus—even more of a gift is when we can go back to Scripture and see our Sacraments alive in the Gospels.    In today’s Gospel, we find the Twelve anointing with oil after being sent out by Jesus: “The Twelve drove out many demons, and they anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them” (Mark 6:13).  Sit for a moment within this scene today, entering prayerfully into Israel in Jesus’ time. Join the Twelve on their missionary journeys, watching them anoint people with oil, watching people being healed, watching an early form of the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick we hold sacred today. Imagine the smell of the oils. See the hope in the midst of suffering on the faces of the ones being anointed. Take a moment to meditate on the beauty of our Church, that the work carried out by the Twelve is still being carried out today by priests and bishops. There are men who have been anointed with oil themselves in ordination who are in homes, hospitals, churches, and more anointing others today, in this very moment, the very way Jesus taught.  Our sacramental life today echoes what Jesus showed the Twelve to do, and it is a beautiful thing to stop and meditate on the gift that it is to be a Catholic, to have seven Sacraments that have brought a richness and depth to our lives of faith for thousands of years.  Relate to the Lord // Thank God for the gift of the Sacraments!

He listened to Paul speaking, who looked intently at him, saw that he had the faith to be healed. // Acts 14:9 I was walking across the plaza at my university when a young woman approached me and began to speak to me about her group project that I was not a part of. She thought I was Samantha, and I am not Samantha. Once, on an airplane as I walked down the aisle, a man removed his headphones to ask if I am Heather, the former babysitter of his daughters. I am not Heather. I have been mistaken for another woman more times than I can count throughout my life. I have always hoped that it wasn’t that each of us resembled one another, but that these people recognized Christ in each of our faces. I have always wondered if it weren’t our appearances that looked similar, but our joy, our light, and Christ alive within us that did.  Today’s First Reading (see Acts 14:5-18) speaks of Paul looking intently at a crippled man and clearly seeing faith in his face . . . the faith to be healed. When the people I encounter today look intently at me, would they see faith? I am inspired to think about whether or not I live with a countenance of faith—one of hope, one of joy, and one of light. We are people of light lost in a sea of very sour faces, and sometimes—if I am truly honest with myself—I join in far too frequently with a sour countenance about anything and everything, with a face that reflects complaints, frustration, or annoyance with others.   What story is your countenance telling today? Is it the story of the Gospel, of the deep peace that a life in Christ can bring? Even in the midst of life’s difficulties, would those who look intently at you see a face full of hope, a face that reflects a heart set on Christ? Would they see a face that reflects the peace and joy so needed in our homes, schools, workplaces, and families?  Today, may we be women who radiate a countenance of faith, hope, and joy in a world full of sour faces.

Lent starts February 14, and so does the RESCUED Blessed is She Lent devotional. This year, you’ll be receiving an excerpt from the Lent devotional every day in your inbox (in lieu of our regular daily devo). We want to pray with one heart and one mind as the BIS sisterhood. If you prefer to have the book, purchase the 2024 Blessed is She Lent devotional RESCUED right here. Right upon purchase, you’ll receive a link to come into the free Blessed is She app to walk through the Lenten season with us in daily live prayer, small groups, and more. Together let’s look to the Lamb of God who came to rescue each one of us.   Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while. // Mark 6:31 My young son was joyfully pointing to a nearby screen that was showing images of scenic vistas in Europe. We were sitting together in the mall food court eating Chipotle on a quiet weekday afternoon, and it was a very peaceful moment. As a mother of small children, these moments are not easy to come by. Life can often feel like I am riding on a bucking bronco from one chaotic moment to the next. As we sat eating our lunch together, the Lord gently nudged my heart . . . Enjoy the rest that is available to you in this brief but beautiful moment. So I intentionally leaned into it—the quiet, the peace, the heart of the Lord. It wasn’t long, but I made it a rest.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus invites the Apostles: “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). They were so busy serving others they didn’t even have time to eat (sound familiar?). Jesus knows what they need is true rest, a rest that will refresh their souls so they can continue to love and serve.  What does Jesus’ invitation to you look like in the everyday for you, as you love and serve others in your work, your vocation, or your community? Notice Jesus does not say, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and scroll on your phones. Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and listen to a podcast. Come away by yourself to a deserted place and think about your to-do list.”  Instead Christ makes this same invitation to you: “Come away by yourself to a deserted place and rest a while.”  Sister, I challenge you to find a way to do this every day this upcoming week. Perhaps you have time to “come away and rest” for an hour every day. Perhaps you only have five-minute moments in between waves of chaos to enter into the stillness of His presence within you. Whatever amount of time you take, slow down in true quiet, be at true peace, and rest in His Heart. Even for a moment, you will find the refreshment you are seeking.

Abraham prostrated himself and laughed as he said to himself, “Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old?” // Genesis 17:17 I closed the back cover of the encyclical and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A few dozen pages of writing by Pope Saint John Paul II were mulling over in my mind, and I felt God nudging my soul in a way He hadn’t before. I had just earned my degree in broadcast journalism, yet as I closed the small book I felt God calling me to share the message of Mulieris Dignitatem (On the Dignity and Vocation of Women) with women in a way I did not yet understand.  I had to laugh as I asked the Lord, “I have spent tens of thousands of dollars on a journalism degree so you could call me to do something entirely different with my life? Seriously?” If you want God to laugh, tell Him your plans. Sometimes He tells us His plans, and we laugh right along with Him.  Have you ever laughed (anywhere between a good chuckle and absolute hysterics) when the Lord revealed a plan, a new path, or a plot twist in the story of His plan for you that seemed so unlikely or ridiculous there was no other response you could give? Sometimes we laugh out of disbelief, at times out of joy, and at times because what God has revealed just seems too good to be true. Abraham laughs at God’s plan, and Sarah goes on to laugh also (see Genesis 18:12) at her own disbelief at what the Lord has spoken. Sister, today I invite you to imagine yourself sitting with the Lord, laughing with joy over His plan for your life. Imagine yourself smiling together as you look back at specific moments of disbelief, the plot twists, and the surprises in your journey of faith and trust He has carried you through. Sit with Him and trust in His faithfulness for the future with a carefree, child-like sense of joy.  Laugh with delight in our God today, knowing He is always making all things work together for good.

“But because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” // John 15:19 It was 2008, and I was working as a hostess at a restaurant called “California Pizza Kitchen.” At the time, I wore a purity ring as a physical sign of my commitment to a chaste life as a single woman. One evening during a slow shift, a co-worker asked, “What is that ring about?” When I explained to him the meaning, he laughed and responded, “That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.” If you have been following Jesus with fervor for any amount of time, you know great ridicule can accompany this choice—some minor, some major. Following Christ today can certainly come along with being mocked, ostracized, or shamed. He told us this would be so. Jesus addresses the disciples very pointedly in today’s Gospel, and most of these men went on to be persecuted to the point of gruesome death for the cause of Christ. How deeply convicting it is to reflect on all who have gone before us who endured far more than being shamed—they endured torture, imprisonment, and death. I wonder how often the disciples recalled His words: “But because . . . I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you” (John 15:19). I do wonder if, as they were persecuted, they recalled a look of compassion on Christ’s face when He spoke these words. Only He knew what they would endure for Him once Pentecost had come and gone. It is all the more moving to sit with the reality that the level of persecution the disciples faced is happening today. There are followers of Jesus being tortured and killed. What sacred opportunities we have in the moments when we are mocked for our faith in these small ways—in our workplaces, classrooms, families, and communities—to remember those persecuted to the point of martyrdom today. We are given opportunities to cry out to God for our brothers and sisters in Christ that they would find deep, lasting hope that eternity spent beholding Him Who is seated on the throne will be more than worth it all.

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

Hezekiah became the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amos, Amos the father of Josiah. // Matthew 1:10 The radiant, beautiful Sister was standing at the podium on a Blessed is She retreat with her heart wide open. She was giving one of the most beautiful talks I’ve ever heard on a retreat in which she shared about a few specific women in her family line who had said a very courageous yes to life. Each of those yeses were part of the reason she could stand there and give that talk to us on that day. She highlighted a few of the tremendous sacrifices they had made and the way they had laid down their dreams and lives for the good of their children. It was breathtaking. The genealogy of Jesus that we reflect upon today is a familiar Gospel—we may sit through it at Mass amazed at its length or fascinated by the unique male names. Wouldn’t it be incredibly moving if, even just once, we could hear the names of all the women? Certainly, not in the current cultural way that says “if we recognize one person, we have to recognize everybody,” but in a way that gives us pause to remember—there is another layer to this story that resounds with the yeses, the sacrifices, the laying down of the lives of dozens of women so a Savior could be born unto us. That is the beauty of genealogical lines: there are an untold number of women who poured out in the beauty of motherhood so that you could sit where you are in this very moment. It is not often, if ever, that we stop to think of them and say a prayer of thanksgiving for them. Today, I invite you to do just this. [bctt tweet="There is another layer to this story that resounds with the yeses, the sacrifices, the laying down of the lives of dozens of women so a Savior could be born unto us.. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

All the people were hanging on His words // Luke 19:48 Have you ever felt like someone was simply out to disturb your peace? Have you ever known a soul so dead-set on making your life miserable, frustrating you to no end, causing drama in your life—for seemingly no reason at all? I had a co-worker once who perfectly fit this description in my life. For most of us, it is difficult to forget this person if they are a part of the past and strenuous to deal with if they are part of the present. Now imagine being so close to Christ that this person’s attempts to bring you down were utterly futile because you constantly chose to hang on the words of Jesus. This is akin to what transpires in today’s Gospel. The chief priests, scribes, and leaders are totally unable to accomplish what they wish to do because the people are “hanging on his words” (Luke 19:48). So when it comes to your interactions with this person, choose words of Christ to hang onto so this person cannot accomplish what they have set out to do. Let the words of Christ be an immovable anchor for your soul. Here are more of Christ’s words to hang onto when others set out to bring us down: “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). “Has no one condemned you? . . . Neither do I condemn you” (John 8:11). “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). In these trying relationships that may be a part of your life today, hang onto the words of Christ with such fervor that those who set out to steal your joy, destroy your peace, or make your life miserable simply cannot. [bctt tweet="Let the words of Christ be an immovable anchor for your soul. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

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

We too believe and therefore speak, knowing that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus. // 2 Corinthians 4:13-14 Being a Catholic in our culture today can be painfully discouraging, which is why when I enter through the doors of our church and the priest is wearing red vestments, it is a great consolation to my soul. In the throes of a very sick culture, I sit in my pew and look long and hard at those red vestments signifying that today’s Mass commemorates a saint who was a martyr, and I let that physical representation of the blood of the martyrs teach me about what it means to give it all over for Christ. Today we celebrate the incomprehensible zeal of Saint James, the brother of John and often called “the greater,” but most of all the martyr who had courage and love for Jesus rooted so deeply within his heart that he was willing to be beheaded for the Kingdom. In the First Reading today, Saint Paul outlines the hardship that the faithful in Corinth faced in spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ. He writes about how they were afflicted (in every way), perplexed, persecuted, and struck down. These hardships sound akin to the reality many of us face in our families, workplaces, schools, and friend groups as we stand for the truth of the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church in the year 2022. To stand for Christ, for the Church, and for life in a culture that is hostile, at best, to the name of Jesus can be very challenging. And yet, our beloved martyrs teach us how to stand anyway because they knew the consolation that comes in this: “The one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus.” That is what the martyrs lived for. That is what we are living for: the Resurrection. May we look at the red vestments and never forget it. Saint James, beautiful, holy martyr, pray for us who need the zeal and courage to carry on. [bctt tweet="We are living for the Resurrection. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory through Christ Jesus will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little. // 1 Peter 5:10 The Sister in her blue habit turned to me, handed me her phone, and said, “Sister wants to speak with you.” I was speaking at a parish event taking place in their convent for a few days, and the Sister I was staying with was having an evening chat with another Sister from her order who lived in a different state. I held the phone up to my ear. “The devil is looking to devour you,” she said to me on the other end, very matter-of-factly. “You must pray and resist him at every turn.” If I hadn’t been deeply involved with faith for a very long time, I would have been both stunned and horrified that this was all she wanted to say to me. But without even looking at me, she knew. She knew that I was in a time of deep spiritual warfare and spiritual anguish as I was doing the work of God evangelizing the world wherever He called me to go. Out of that conversation with Sister came a renewed resolve to pray for protection as I responded to the Lord’s call on my life. Today, Saint Peter shares four beautiful words that God will do for us: restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish us as we follow Him boldly in a daily spiritual battle. Today, I invite you to make that a prayer that flows from this Scripture, “God of all grace, restore me, confirm me, strengthen me, and establish me.” Say it out loud as you carry out your duties of this day. Say it out loud, with confidence that God hears you, protects you, and wants to help you remain firm in Him. [bctt tweet="God hears you. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

If you hold back your foot on the sabbath from following your own pursuits on my holy day; If you call the sabbath a delight, and the LORD’s holy day honorable. // Isaiah 58:13 I will not soon forget the day I realized my husband and I see the structure of the week entirely differently in our minds. My husband is from Europe, so in his mind, the week begins on Monday—this is derived from the calendar he has followed from his youth. I am from the United States, so based on the calendar I have always followed, the week begins on Sunday. Interestingly, the Church thinks of it both ways, as both the first day of the week when God first created the world in the book of Genesis, but also the eighth day when Christ ushered in the new creation through His Resurrection (Catechism of the Catholic Church § 2174). Do you see Sunday as the first day of your week or the final day of your week? Whether you see it as the first or the last day of the week, God commands us to keep it holy. In transparency, this is one of the commandments I break most often. With my husband not working, and available to care for our sons by himself, I can often treat Sunday as a time when I can finally accomplish some tasks because I want to be productive. In doing this, I act directly against the commandment and many other points in Scripture where we are instructed to intentionally keep a holy day of rest. Today’s First Reading brings it into an entirely new light: much of the work I do on Sundays is “following my own pursuits” of productivity. For far too long, I saw the accomplishments of tasks as necessary, but when convicted by the Lord, I had to reevaluate. I need to rearrange my heart and improve in this area. Sunday should be a time of spiritual refreshment and renewal for the week ahead. We find instruction to keep a holy day of rest throughout the entirety of Scripture, but are we actually, intentionally implementing this into our lives? How are you refreshing your spirit, revitalizing your soul, and “holding back your foot” to honor the day of the Lord? Sunday should not just be another day of the week—we are to call it a "delight." How are you delighting in the sabbath? [bctt tweet="Honor the day of the Lord. // Emily Wilson Hussem" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” // Mark 2:17 I struggle to love people whose actions disgust me. Do you? When I think about these people, many of whom are public figures in our culture, whose evil behavior, actions, and words are truly appalling as a Catholic, it is hard to think about them sitting at a table with Jesus looking at them lovingly. It is easy to imagine the people I know who are fully devoted to Jesus sitting at table with Him, having wonderful conversations and a wonderful time. But it is difficult to imagine Him laughing, talking, and eating with those who carry out and promote so many things that stand in direct opposition to Him. As I read today's Gospel, it dawns on me that the Pharisees likely felt this way when they saw Jesus eating with the sinners and tax collectors. The Gospel today gives me new eyes to see the way Jesus loves and the ways He is calling me to love. It is not easy—it challenges and convicts me. Jesus loves each one of us with infinite love—we are all sinners in need of His healing, care, and mercy. And so, I read today's Gospel a few times, and I sit in imaginative prayer. I imagine those people whose actions disgust me sitting with Him. As I watch the scene, He turns and looks over His shoulder to say to me, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do, Emily. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” I imagine Him laughing with them and loving them because He loves them just as much as He loves me. It challenges me deeply again. It propels me to try to love the same way He does—because the goal of my life is to be just like Him. How does it challenge you? [bctt tweet="We are all sinners in need of His healing, care, and mercy. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

His mother said in reply, “No. He will be called John.” // Luke 1:60 For much of my late teenage years and early twenties, I was not very good at speaking up for myself. Actually, I was very bad at doing so. After being bullied in college, I internalized the belief that I was a burden, an annoyance, and an inconvenience for people, and in a way, I shut down. I lost the will to speak up, and rarely asserted what I wanted. Not only did I believe that I was an annoyance, I also did not see how assertiveness and holiness could coexist within me as a woman. Elizabeth’s example in today’s Gospel has been a powerful lesson for me. She only says six words, “No. He will be called John,” but reveals her heart, strength, and faith in those six words. She could have chosen to remain quiet and let the people name her son as they wished, but she did not. She was convicted—she spoke up. Over time, I realized I could not spend my life letting people walk all over me, so I began to ask the Lord to reveal to me what it means to be a woman who is holy yet strong, faithful yet assertive. I asked the Lord to show me when He wants me to speak up and when He wants me to remain quiet. He has faithfully shown me the way, and if you struggle to speak up or stand up for yourself in a holy way—today I pray that Elizabeth's example resonates in your heart. May the Lord give us all the boldness we need to say, "No," when we need to, the courage to be obedient to Him no matter what others may think, and the grace to allow His strength and holiness to coexist within each one of us. [bctt tweet="Allow His strength and holiness to coexist. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

I often wonder what the voices of the Saints sounded like. What did Saint Maximilian Kolbe’s voice sound like when he stepped forward in Auschwitz and said he would take Franciszek Gajowniczek’s place? What did Saint Gianna Beretta Molla’s voice sound like when she told her husband she was certain she was in labor with their first child? What did Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross’ voice sound like when she gave her brilliant symposia on the necessity of the feminine genius in education? What did Saint José Sánchez del Río's voice sound like when he cried out "¡Viva Cristo Rey!" as he was being martyred for his faith? What did Saint Josephine Bakhita’s voice sound like as she made her final vows to the Canossian Sisters in peace after a life of slavery and torture? Thinking about their voices makes me pause to think of their humanity. Have you considered the sounds of their voices, the expressions on their faces, the desires of their hearts? They were not superhuman; they were people just like you and me who poured out radical love throughout their radically holy lives. On the feast of All Saints, I wonder what their voices sound like today. These Saints and countless others have joined their voices together in the most beautiful song ever heard, worshipping at the throne of the King of Kings, singing “Holy, holy, holy” for all eternity. It is a sound I hope to hear one day, and the Saints have given us a roadmap to do just that. They have given us a roadmap to Heaven. They have shown us what it means to be frail human sinners of every age, race, nationality, vocation, and state of life who laid down their lives for the cause of Christ. Today, let us praise God together for the profound "yes" of every one of the Saints, and let us recommit to living radically holy lives worthy of entrance through the narrow gate to sing with them forever. Which Saint would you love to sing with in Heaven? [bctt tweet="They have given us a roadmap to Heaven. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

The Lord had convicted me that it was time. He had been gently tugging on my heart to bring specific sins to Him in the confessional, and one day, He convicted me strongly. I knew there were confessions happening that evening at a parish nearby, and I knew He was calling me to go. But I also knew that it might get ugly (with ugly crying, that is). And sure enough, that's what happened. The priest wasn't sitting in a confessional, but sat in a chair outside the door of the church. And perhaps you can identify with one of those "confessions you will always remember," but everything I had bottled up inside for months came flowing out like a river and there was definitely some crying that I could not continue to hold in. The poor priest had to ask me to quiet my crying and volume down a few times—I knew why. I wasn't offended. I tried to pull it together as best I could. Praise God for His forgiveness and mercy, and God bless that sweet, bewildered priest; it was certainly a life-changing event. The story of the sinful woman has always touched me deeply because of the way Jesus lets the sinful woman just pour it all out. He is not alarmed by her display of love. He is not bewildered by her emotions. He never once asks her to pull it together, tone it down, or rein it in a little. He lets her pour every last bit of her love, emotion, sorrow, and repentance from the depths of her soul. He meets her authenticity with all of Himself—all of His love, all of His mercy, all of His goodness. And sometimes, I need to revisit this Gospel (Luke 7:36-50) and be reminded of this scriptural proof that Jesus wants us to hold nothing back when we run to Him. We cannot scare Him with our emotions. We cannot frighten Him with our authenticity. He is open to it all. Where is the Lord calling you to a greater authenticity with Him? [bctt tweet="He is open to it all. // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

Before the pandemic, I traveled often. One of the greatest graces within my life on the road was seeing how many beautiful, humble souls in this world do not perform any of their works to be seen. I saw janitors in airports across America quietly emptying each trashcan in the terminals. I watched countless women push their housekeeping carts down hotel hallways. I witnessed women maintaining the sanctuaries of their churches, watering every plant on the altars on Saturday afternoons. I watched youth ministers manage every last retreat detail late into the night before retreat weekends kicked off with deep care for every teen who would attend. I spoke with a taxi driver at 5 o'clock in the morning who had picked up the extra job to make ends meet for his family. We live in a culture that often trumpets the notion that the only thing that matters is the spotlight—which has made these people who do not have any concern about the spotlight the ones whose example can impact us uniquely and profoundly. They are the ones who know the depth of what Jesus teaches in today’s Gospel—they are the children of God who either knowingly or unknowingly live out the words of Christ, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). Today, let us open our eyes and hearts to watch the people around us who live out this Scripture—in their work, or their vocation, in God’s specific call for their lives. By their example, they are teaching us. Are we paying attention? [bctt tweet="By their example, they are teaching us. Are we paying attention? // @emwilss" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion