July 3, 2026 // Feast of Saint Thomas, Apostle Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 20:24–29 Reflect on the Word //  One of the most painful experiences for the human heart is to feel left behind in one’s sorrow.  There have been seasons of my life in which it seemed that everyone around me was being blessed in ways I had long desired. I wanted those joys for them; I just also wanted them for myself. In these moments, my temptation was to believe that God had forgotten me. That He had found others more worthy of His time, attention, and blessing. But God never forgets us, not for a moment.  And Saint Thomas the Apostle holds the most moving proof. Today’s Gospel places us in the Upper Room with the Apostles after Jesus’ Resurrection. The Apostles were in deep pain, confusion, and fear. Then, the Risen Jesus appeared to them and they rejoiced!  Except Thomas. Because he wasn’t there during that time. Thomas, who was undergoing the same trauma and guilt as the others, was the one Apostle who was not present at the Lord’s first appearance. At the news of Christ’s Resurrection, Thomas may have felt forgotten and left behind. All he wanted was Jesus. And everyone else seemed to get Him—but not Thomas. I can relate to the possible spiraling of Thomas’s heart and mind. Why would Jesus do this? Am I not important to Him? Am I disposable in this mission? Did He not want to see me? Then, we receive Jesus’ response. Thomas was far from forgotten, far from disposable.  Jesus, in fact, wanted something even more special and more intimate for him. When He appears again, Jesus invites Thomas to place his hands in the very wounds that would heal his wounded heart.  What Thomas most desired was to be close to the Risen Jesus. Thomas received what he most desired—it just looked different than what he thought. It was an even grander expression of love. If we desire this closeness to the Lord, should we not expect the same merciful love as well?  Saint Thomas shows us that we are never left behind, never inconsequential, and never unimportant to the Lord. On the contrary, He chooses us to come even closer, every single day. Relate to the Lord // Is there a wound that’s been coming up lately? Show it to Jesus. Tell Him about it.

June 3, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Charles Lwanga and Companions, Martyrs Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: 2 Timothy 1:1–3, 6–12 Reflect on the Word //  I bit my tongue a little harder. I wish my strides toward virtue were more sophisticated by now; however, in the moment when I wanted to respond to a family member with harshness, physical restraint helped.  I thought, You have a choice to make here, and that choice will have a lasting impact. Who do you want to be? I want to be rooted in the reality that I am God’s daughter. And I want to act like it. I want to consider my responses and to choose ones that reflect what I actually desire: to be more like my Father.  Saint Paul wrote today’s First Reading from prison. He was kept under lock and key because he would not keep his belief in Jesus Christ to himself. He was maligned and doubted, yet he had no doubt in the One for Whom he was imprisoned. Saint Paul was not afraid or deterred from what he wanted: life with Christ. Further, he encourages Timothy to bear his own share of hardship for the Gospel. How? Not by his own abilities or cleverness, but “with the strength that comes from God” (2 Timothy 1:8).  This strength is the opposite of cowardice. In fact, it is this strength, poured out by the Holy Spirit, that allows God’s children to move in “power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:7).  I am not locked in prison like Saint Paul. But I can suffer my own share of hardship for the Gospel each day.  Every time we hold our tongues through self-control, every time we understand the power of our actions, and every time we choose to respond in love, we live by the Holy Spirit.  In these little sufferings—in these little deaths to self—we become more like “our savior Christ Jesus, who destroyed death and brought life” (2 Timothy 1:10).  Relate to the Lord // Ask the Holy Spirit to be with you in all of your interactions today.

November 27, 2025 // Thursday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time // Thanksgiving Day (USA) Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Daniel 6:12-28 Reflect on the Word //  “I can’t believe this,” I whispered to my husband. The darkness of the early morning hours was lit up by the glare of my phone as I scrolled through the news. The date of an important international event that our family had planned, prayed, and saved for a decade to attend was suddenly and without warning . . . changed. Flights, lodging, and tours were already booked. What would we do now? I turned to the Lord in my panic. He whispered to me: I moved it for you.  About six weeks later, I understood why. A solemn family need arose, and we needed to be here when we were previously scheduled to be there.  I’m not suggesting that God moved a massive event just for us. But this small, seemingly inconsequential moment is just an illustration of how the Lord often saves me before I even know I need saving. He delivers me even when it seems all hope is lost.  Daniel knew this well. He was actually thrown into the lion’s den. Counted as dead. Yet the Lord rescued him. King Darius called God “a deliverer and a savior” (Daniel 6:28).  Like then, the Lord is still working signs and wonders in heaven and on earth (see Daniel 6:27) . . .  and in my little life. I am not thrown into a lion’s den (although sometimes it feels like it). But the Lord tends to the needs of my heart and life nonetheless. He proves to little me that He is a deliverer and a savior.  What does this mean for us as we go about our ordinary days? King Darius speaks of that, too: “All peace to you!” (Daniel 6:26) Yes, we can have the utmost peace of heart because we know the Lord delivers us. Even when our backs are against the wall, it seems there is no way out or through, or we don’t understand why something isn’t working out for us, we can be at peace. The Lord is already saving us. He is already leading and redeeming us.  The same God Who saved Daniel is the One Who is saving us.  Relate to the Lord // How is the Lord already at work? How is He saving you in this season?

October 7, 2025 // Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 10:38-42  Reflect on the Word // I can feel it in my chest. The pressure. My shoulders ache from tension. I notice that my breathing is shallow. My body is in well-designed sync with my mind and heart. I have placed the weight of the world—which isn’t mine to bear—upon myself in the form of to-do lists, illusions, unfair expectations, and sorrow.  I catch myself, blessedly, and begin to unwind what has me entangled physically and spiritually.  Today’s Gospel is a familiar one. I have previously quipped that I have a Mary heart in a Martha life. But as I’ve lived longer with the Lord, and have returned to this passage more, I wonder if these two sisters reveal to us the battle that occurs in the heart of every disciple of Jesus.  Martha’s sincere complaint to Jesus reveals three lies that threaten every human soul (see Luke 1:40): I am not loved. (“. . . do you not care?”) I am alone. (“. . . left me by myself”) No one will help me. (“. . .  to do the serving? Tell her to help me.”) When I labor at the service of these lies, the pressure moves in. I bear the weight of the world. I don’t breathe freely.  But Mary’s posture reveals the three truths that dismantle these temptations (see Luke 1:39): I am loved. (Jesus wants to be in my house.) I am close to Him. (I sit beside Him, at His feet.) He always helps me. (I listen to Him.) Both women are deeply loved by Jesus. And Jesus deeply loves me, even when I struggle against the same temptations as Martha and bring my complaints to Him. He kindly, calmly, lovingly points to Mary, reminding me of the truth of His love.  Perhaps this is why Jesus calls it “the better part” (Luke 1:42). When we choose to believe that we are loved, that Jesus is close to us, and that He always helps us, we go about the busy work of our hands with lightness and security.  Friends, we have been given the better part, and it will not be taken from us. Relate to the Lord // Take a deep breath. Relax your shoulders. Repeat and agree with these three truths: I am loved. (Jesus wants to be in my house.) I am close to Him. (I sit beside Him, at His feet.) He always helps me. (I listen to Him.)  

September 22, 2025 // Monday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 126:1-6 Reflect on the Word // My children collect all sorts of nature’s wonders. Tucked in corners, on nature shelves, and in bedrooms throughout our home can be found rocks, leaves, feathers, empty egg shells, nuts, seed pods, and even dead bugs. These collections delight my children and expand their imaginations and understanding of God’s created world. Any time I try to “clean out” these items, I am met with offended objections. Their discoveries teach me something about how the Lord sustains the human heart. I am called to be a collector too. Today’s Responsorial Psalm is about the overwhelming joy that accompanies remembrance of God’s marvels: “Then they said among the nations, ‘The LORD has done great things for them.’ The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad indeed” (Psalm 126:2-3). I want to be glad. I want to remain glad in my life even when circumstances stack evidence against it. And I remain glad through my belief and proclamation that the Lord has done great things for me. But alas, I am quick to forget! I tend to receive a blessing from the Father, then turn immediately to the next problem, lack, inconvenience, or pain. I want to be more like my children, collecting the treasures He provides, displaying them in the home of my heart, and absolutely refusing to let them be “thrown out”—forgotten.  How can we, then, become childlike collectors of the good things God does in our lives? By noticing them (which requires our attention), truly treasuring them (which requires our time), bringing them into the home of our hearts (which requires space), and never letting them go (which requires longstanding commitment).  When we do this, our mouths will be “filled with laughter and our tongue rejoicing” because we will place our delight in the marvels of the Lord (Psalm 126:2).  Relate to the Lord // Catalogue the Lord’s love and faithfulness today. Start your collection, whether tangibly in your home or through journaling.  

August 11, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Clare, Virgin Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 147:12-13, 14-15, 19-20 Reflect on the Word //  Farmers plow fields surrounded by woods, and within those bounds they plant. Even in my tiny backyard garden, we plant within the borders of raised beds. Both livestock and cities are guarded by gates, the occupants thus roaming freely and safely.  Today’s Responsorial Psalm states, “For he has strengthened the bars of your gates” and “He has granted peace in your borders; with the best of wheat he fills you” (Psalm 147:13-14).  The landscape of my soul contains gates and borders too. Gates guard, and boundaries allow the field of my heart to actually be more abundant. Instead of slinging seed every which way like a madwoman, these borders allow me to intentionally sow seed where it will bear the most fruit. Then, “with the best of wheat he fills” my heart. But these gates and borders are not easy to maintain. Distraction and spiritual thieves threaten siege at every turn. When I don’t “glorify the LORD” in my planting as I’m charged (Psalm 146:12), I waste the “seed” of time, energy, and grace. I leave the gate open, so to speak, in spiritual sloth so that enemies can more easily access the garden of my soul.  So how can we prepare and guard our hearts so that our gates are strong and our fields peaceful? Our efforts will be fruitless apart from the Lord, for He is the One Who knows what is best for us. In prayer, we hear His Word proclaimed. We must invite the Lord into our garden to cultivate the fruit and keep it safe, and spend time with Him there. In action, we remain good stewards of what comes in through our gates and what remains within our borders. We allow the grace of the Holy Spirit to “strengthen our gates” through the practice of virtue.   It is in the safety of praising the Lord, then, that we will dwell, reap, and live in peace.  Relate to the Lord // Imagine the landscape of your soul. What does Jesus want to show you about your gates and borders? Listen for His voice.

July 18, 2025 // Optional Memorial of Saint Camillus de Lellis, Priest [In the Dioceses of the United States] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Exodus 11:10—12:14 Reflect on the Word //  When I travel and attend Mass in other parts of the country or world, I am comforted by the steadiness of the universal Mass. When my family is in need of support during times of loss or transition, we are fed by our parish friend’s meals and kindness. When I carry crosses that threaten to crush me, Jesus tends to my weary heart through the encouragement of close friends who follow Him closely too. In today’s First Reading, I am struck by God’s rescue of Israel as a whole entity. Even in preparations for the Passover meal, families were to join together to share a sacrificial lamb when necessary (see Exodus 12:4). Israel had to rely on one another; they were saved together. Now, in the New Covenant of Jesus Christ—the Lamb of God—we are still saved together.  When Jesus won salvation on the Cross, He won it for the whole world. We are saved as His Body. We are saved as His family. And Jesus continues to offer us this salvation through community today. As the Body of Christ, we are bound together.  We are called to live the love of Christ toward one another as we worship together, pray together, serve together, weep together, rejoice together, and walk together toward Heaven.  We cannot pretend we do not need one another. Our broken hearts and self-reliance would like us to believe that we must save ourselves. But nothing could be further from the Gospel. Jesus is the One Who saves us. And He does not save us in isolation.  Relate to the Lord // How is Jesus working in and through your community right now?  

June 23, 2025 // Monday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Genesis 12:1-9 Reflect on the Word //  In most classic novels I read, I encounter at least one character who possesses the virtue of magnanimity. Magnanimity is defined as greatness of soul. These characters are layered in their potential, and the story always hinges upon their ability and decision to direct that natural greatness of soul in a supernatural direction.  How will they use their greatness? Will they give it away to build others up, or will they hoard it and thus self-destruct? When coupled with the virtue of humility, magnanimity has the power to change the story of the world (both in fictional novels and in reality). When greatness of soul understands its place before God, it can be put to mission for the Kingdom, winning other souls for Christ. In today’s First Reading, God promises Abram, “I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing” (Genesis 12:2).  The Lord will make Abram’s name great. Abram possesses the potential for massive magnanimity. He had already left all he had known in order to follow the Lord’s call. It was a move that required bravery and radical trust.  But that’s not the end of God’s declaration. He finishes with the promise that “all the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you” (Genesis 12:3). Abram’s name will not be great so that he will be honored; rather, it is so he can honor God and others in love and service. His greatness directly corresponds to his willingness to use it to bless others.  Whatever magnanimity we possess, then, must be infused with humility and guided toward selfless giving. God has given you a great soul. You have vast potential. Like Abram and the great protagonists, use it to be a blessing.  Relate to the Lord // Ask the Lord to show you your greatness of soul. How will you be a blessing today?  

May 30, 2025 // Friday of the Sixth Week of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 47:2-3, 4-5, 6-7 Reflect on the Word // A beautiful gift I received when some earthly resources were stripped away was the miraculous, ever-present support of God the Father. He became my help and my shield in new ways. He provided materially for my family in our need. He even lavished "unnecessary" blessings because He knew it would delight my heart. When my hands were empty of my own abilities and carefully constructed support systems, they were open to receive the support and inheritance of God.  Inheritance was a big deal to the people of Scripture. Fathers passed to their sons all they had. Inheritance was meant to be a blessing for generations to come. And it wasn’t just about the money or the goods; it was a practice with a deeper meaning. Leaving an inheritance for your family was seen as an act of righteousness and selflessness. It was how you acknowledged that this world was fleeting and that your true treasures on this earth were your family.  Inheritance is a big deal to God too.  Today’s Responsorial Psalm proclaims, “He chooses for us our inheritance, the glory of Jacob, whom he loves” (Psalm 47:5). The Lord gives us a glorious inheritance of His choosing because He loves us. He offers an inheritance because He is righteous and self-giving.  Ultimately, this inheritance is Himself.  He is the King and He gives us, as His children, everything that is His. The Lord hands over His whole Heart, burning with love for us. This is what produces a joy in our souls that can never be taken away. This love, joy, and peace are our treasures that will multiply throughout our lives with Him and peak upon our entrance into Heaven. There, we will see clearly all that is ours in Christ Jesus.  Friend, we are so rich. When we consider our lives and what may be lacking or where we may need support, let’s turn to the Father, Who tells us that everything He has is ours because He loves us. That last part? That’s the true treasure.  Relate to the Lord // Thank God for the gift of His loving inheritance today.   

April 25, 2025 // Friday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 21:1-14 Reflect on the Word // After experiencing the death of someone very close to me, I cannot read the Resurrection accounts the way I did before. I used to scoff at the disciples’ actions and  responses; now, I understand that they were immersed in grief. What is more, the way Jesus interacts with them post-Resurrection is overwhelming. Jesus is consistent, patient, compassionate, and present. He sees their human hearts dredged in darkness and, with salvific love, draws them again and again from the deep waters of what they had lived through.  In today’s Gospel account, the fishermen Peter and John return to the Sea, casting their nets as they had done before meeting Jesus. I used to judge Peter and John for going fishing. How could they just return to their former life?! There is so much to be done! But they weren’t going back or giving up; they were going forward in the way they knew how.  Jesus then calls to them from the shore in a familiar interaction. Jesus offers assurance and security. He performs another miracle of the fish, proving His continued provision and personal care for them. Then, John’s cry reverberates through my heart: “It is the Lord.” And Peter—good Peter, who still held the guilt of his Good Friday betrayal—immediately jumps into the water to swim to Jesus on the shore.  This is what my heart does when it’s plunged in grief and I see the Lord in my prayer. He is my very life. So I jump into the water, frantically and ungracefully, using all my dried-up strength to reach the One I love.  Finally, Jesus quietly feeds them. Again, I used to think, Jesus, start preaching! This is precious time before You send them to the ends of the earth! Jesus knew what they really needed: food and rest in His presence. Jesus deals tenderly with the broken, hope-filled hearts of the disciples He loves. He desires to minister to us in our grief, darkness, or confusion too. He always comes for us, provides for us, and feeds us. And He is always with us.  Relate to the Lord // Set aside time for personal prayer  to allow Jesus to minister to your heart today.

January 31, 2025  // Memorial of Saint John Bosco, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Hebrews 10:32-39 Reflect on the Word//  It is a beautiful thing to grow older, to have experiences with the Lord stored up to remind you that He is faithful. With the gift of hindsight, I have seen that the moments of my deepest pain were highways to the Heart of God (when I let them be). Still, when I am faced with a cross of any magnitude, I initially shrink from it. I’d rather life be easy. But suffering is a part of any life. I’m continuously learning that these challenges are better embraced because Jesus is there all along. My task is to keep going. The author of Hebrews confirms this, inferring that we cannot be converted to Christ and then avoid difficulties or persecution. He gives us help through perseverance in a love for God that seeks union with Him in spite of and through all the suffering.  Unlike our self-reliant perseverance that runs on our own strength, it does not falter shortly after we have “been enlightened” (Hebrews 10:32).  When the attacks assail, I am tempted to doubt, to draw back, to contemplate why I’m here rather than Who is with me. Yet we read, “Do not throw away your confidence” (Hebrews 10:35). Confidence is something, then, that I can take hold of, something I can possess. Thus, I can always rid myself of it—the choice is mine. But it is this confidence that propels me forward in perseverance because it is confidence in Jesus, not myself. I can awake each morning and renew my confidence in God, holding fast to my faith in love.  “You need endurance to do the will of God and receive what he has promised” (Hebrews 10:36). Endurance, perseverance, is the necessary element in our pursuit of holiness, in our habits of prayer and receiving the Sacraments. It also encompasses our will to not give up. The Lord is encouraging us today through His Word to reflect upon where we see our endurance waning and where we are tempted to give up. When we ask, the Holy Spirit will show us where we have “thrown away” (see Hebrews 10:35) our confidence. Then, we get to joyfully hold fast to it once again.  Relate to the Lord // In what area do you need to renew your confidence and trust in Him? 

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace.” // Luke 19:41-42 I was annoyed. I had a lot to do that day. Errands to run, meetings to prepare for, and dinner to cook. But she lingered in my entryway after returning a borrowed book, making small talk while our children settled into playing. I could tell she wanted to talk. To really talk. I just wished I had prior notice.  But my glance swept over the sign above our front door. It reads: “There is always room in the inn.” We placed that there as soon as we moved in because we want to live with open hearts and homes. And, clearly, I need the reminder to prefer others to myself.  Convicted, I invited her in for some tea and a sit. She confided the struggles of her heart, and we were able to spend lovely, encouraging time together.  Jesus makes a clear connection in today’s Gospel: “what makes for peace” is “recognizing the time of your visitation” (see Luke 19:41-44). We lack peace when we lack the vision to see His visitation to us in others. Do I want to be annoyed by the Lord showing up? Do I want to dismiss Him because I have “more important” things to tend to? Of course not. And so I must train myself to set aside my scurrying and stuffing so I can slow down enough to see Who is actually before me. When I saw my acquaintance’s visit as an interruption, I was agitated. When I reframed it and saw it as a visitation, I was joyful.  Friend, we want to do great things for God, and, really, it is not complicated. Will we accept God’s will in our lives as revealed in the present moment? Will we recognize His visitation in the events and people before us this very day? Or will we be like Jerusalem, rejecting Him because He does not come when and how it is convenient or ideal for us?  Today, look at your life with fresh eyes. Look for Jesus in everyone you encounter and every task that comes your way. He is visiting you, and in this is your peace.

Therefore, put on the armor of God, that you may be able to resist on the evil day and, having done everything, to hold your ground. // Ephesians 6:13 My confirmation Saint is Joan of Arc, so I love the metaphor of battle when it comes to the spiritual life. But too often I mount my horse on my own command, armed with my own strength, ability, and will.  Those things wear out rather quickly.  And in the battle against temptation, sin, and distraction, I can become discouraged by defeat due to my own pride. This is not the kind of battle the Lord desires us to fight. He intends to fight with and for us. In this spiritual battle, we are often on the defensive. And we should be! But too often we forget that we have been given power through the Holy Spirit and we operate by His strength. So we don’t have to flee in fear but we can engage in battle because of our confidence in the Lord.  Saint Paul speaks in today’s First Reading (see Ephesians 6:10-20) about defending our most important parts with the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness, and the girdle of Truth.  He then calls us to battle offensively with two things: feet shod in the Gospel of peace and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Our offensive weapons have only to do with what God says. We don’t rely on our own opinions of ourselves, our own theories, or our own schemes. We rely on the Word of God and the message of the Gospel.  We move forward, then, in peace, because the declaration of the Gospel is that the battle has already been won. Our battles can be all-consuming, especially when we cower or try to fight by our own power. The clamoring metal, shouting, and confusion can overwhelm us. But we can fight in peace. We are more than conquerors through Him Who has loved us.  What “weapon” of Saint Paul’s armor do you need to engage in this battle today? Name it and ask the Holy Spirit for it. Then wield confidently the words of Sacred Scripture (today’s Responsorial Psalm 144 is a perfect place to start) for they are absolutely true and undefeated. 

“No one tears a piece from a new cloak to patch an old one. Otherwise, he will tear the new and the piece from it will not match the old cloak. Likewise, no one pours new wine into old wineskins.” // Luke 5:36-37 Every mile down the highway took me farther away from all I had ever known. Every mile marked more distance between who I had been and who I was choosing to become.  I understood that the eight-hour drive to the Catholic university I providentially stumbled upon during my junior year of high school was actually a chasm separating my old life from my new life. At this place, there would be no more need for duplicity of life, no room for masks.  If I were to truly give my entire life to Christ, it would change everything. No longer would I patch pieces of old cloaks—old me—together in an attempt to follow both God and the world. On the contrary, I would be given a new cloak that no longer matched the old.  Our mile-marker conversions are often as such. There is a before and after, an old and new. When Jesus calls us into deeper intimacy and greater holiness, the old cloaks no longer fit. We cannot take pieces from the new cloak and try to make them fit with the old. It simply will not work. When He calls us to a new way, patching doesn’t suffice. Discontent grows and internal battles rage. But if we “turn from evil and do good” (Psalm 37:27), there is no longer need for duplicity. No masks. Only in the new, whole cloak will we “take delight in the Lord” (Psalm 37:4).  If you are staring down a highway on conversion, counting the cost and considering what will be left behind, I’d love to encourage you forward. Your patched, old cloak is no longer working. Instead, step out in faith and be clothed by the Holy Spirit, Who covers you in wholeness, peace, and new life.

No one looked on you with pity or compassion to do any of these things for you. // Ezekiel 16:5 “It’s time for us to stop living like abandoned orphans.”  The accuracy of my husband’s description made me laugh. Our lives had been recently rocked by loss of family and support. The Lord Who had tenderly cared for us through a season of deep sorrow now prompted us to move forward in hope because of Who He is.  “You were neither washed with water nor anointed, nor were you rubbed with salt, nor swathed in swaddling clothes. No one looked on you with pity or compassion to do any of these things for you. Rather, you were thrown out on the ground as something loathsome” (Ezekiel 16:4-5). If you feel deeply understood by the opening lines of today’s First Reading, the Lord has a clear message for you. If you have ever felt abandoned, neglected, or forgotten by someone who was meant to love you, the Lord is closer to you than you can imagine.  The Lord is the One Who sees all your pain, coping, strategizing, and loneliness. He has never once abandoned, neglected, or forgotten you. Instead, as it is emphasized in the First Reading, He cares for you with immense, intentional love.  When we allow Him to hold us, we see that, in Him, we have all the love and support we require. When we offer our love in return, we become “exceedingly beautiful” because of His grace (see Ezekiel 16:13). “God is our Father. Mary is our Mother,” I affirmed in response to my husband. We smiled sincerely, because we knew it was the truth.  The anecdote to our heartbreaks and disappointments is the Savior. So what is your great need today? What tender places are stoked by those opening lines? Jesus has pity on you. He loves you; He is coming to save you.

I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I fostered them like one who raises an infant to his cheeks. // Hosea 11:4 Saint Benedict, whose feast day we celebrate today, traveled once a year to visit his twin sister, Saint Scholastica, at a house between his monastery and her convent. Because of their commitment to consecrated religious life, they were rarely able to see one another. They enjoyed their time together, spending the day praying and talking together about the things of the Lord. Finally, when it was time for them to part before nightfall, Scholastica wasn’t ready for the visit to be over. She asked the Lord for a few more hours with her brother. That night, a storm rolled through the area, making travel by foot impossible until the morning. It turned out to be their last visit on earth, as three days later Saint Scholastica passed into eternity (source).  With this gift, the Lord loved Saint Scholastica and Saint Benedict in a particular way. It was a simple thing, really, but that is what makes it magnificent. Nothing is too small for Jesus. He offers to give us everything we need.  This is what He proclaimed to His disciples in today’s Gospel (see Matthew 10:7-15). As they went from town to town preaching the Gospel, healing the sick, and casting out demons, they were not to bring provisions. Their shelter, clothing, and sustenance would come through the generosity of those in the cities they were visiting. It was an invitation to trust that the Lord would provide what they need.  The disciples and these holy twins show us what this radical trust looks like lived out. Every need and every desire was brought before Jesus. In their immense trust in His particular love, they believed that He would give them all that they required.  What would our lives look like if we lived the same?  What need feels impossible to be provided for by God? What desire feels too small or silly to be satisfied by Him? Spend a few minutes in prayer today with this consideration. Let your mind settle. Allow your needs and desires to rise to the surface. In faith, present them to Jesus and ask Him to take care of you. He always will.

May your compassion quickly come to us, for we are brought very low. // Psalm 79:8 I scribbled hurriedly on the index card. Names, needs, questions, and charges poured forth with only the sound of the pen stroke. My brain—my heart—could no longer contain the suffering and petitions. The dam overflowed through the ink and my eyes.  Mine was like the cry of the Israelites in today’s Responsorial Psalm (see Psalm 79:1b-2, 3-5, 8, 9). I prayed: Look at all these things Your people are suffering! Look at how abandoned they feel. Look at how very low we have been brought. The course of just a few months had brought great tragedy and pain in my life and the lives of most people I loved. It seemed that every text message I received heralded new bad news, fresh blood poured out (see Psalm 79:3). Not only was the rain falling, but we were flooded and blown about by the wind (see Matthew 7:25).  I was crumbling like sand.  The longer I walk with the Lord, the more I see that my peace is not found in human solutions but in relationship with Him. In knowing Him (see Matthew 7:23). In my suffering, I could wring my hands trying to fix problems beyond my influence or I could open my hands to Him, waiting for Him to “deliver us” (Psalm 79:9). So I continued to write. Some needs I recorded with sadness, some with anger, some with hopelessness. With every circumstance I entrusted to Him, I laid a brick of the foundation of my heart on the Rock. With every suffering offered to Him, my faith was set on solid ground (see Matthew 7:24). This is not because He gave me immediate answers or understanding; it is because He gave me Himself.  What are you “scribbling down” today? What are the sufferings you—or people you love—enduring and how are they buffeting the house of your heart? Take just a few moments today to cease attempts to resolve the issues and instead give them to Jesus. He wants to know you, to hear the cries of your heart. Your great comfort is found in knowing Him.