April 30, 2026 // Thursday of the Fourth Week of Easter // Optional Memorial of Saint Pius V, Pope, Religious Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 13:16-20 Reflect on the Word //  Whispers after lights out. Shared secrets under blankets. The wonder of girlhood rolling into the moods of teenagerhood. She was the first to hear my frustrations but also my joys. My younger sister and I slept feet away from each other for over fifteen years, and our nightly dialogues led to the best of friendships. Fast forward a few years, and a new roommate entered my life. We quickly learned each other’s moods, patterns, and eating habits. I counted on her to wake me up, so we could pray together in the mornings, and we studied so late into the night it typically turned to laughter and rather silly activities. Again, an intimacy bubbled up and thrived because of the time and vulnerability we poured into our friendship.  Praying with today’s Gospel, I imagine myself at the table amongst Jesus’ closest friends, the twelve Apostles (see John 13:16-20). The familiarity and affection of the moment is palpable. As He approaches the hour of His Death, Jesus leans more into sharing His Heart. I feel the love of this moment, His longing to converse with me too. He wants to share in my moments and have me share in His.  In this snippet of conversation, Jesus leaves His disciples with two key truths: Who He is and who we are. He is a Messiah Who has come as the Son of God to serve us. And service is how we continue living that love that we have received.  It is in regular conversation with Jesus that we can grow to know Him closer than a roommate or sister. And when we make talking with Him a major part of how we start and close our days, checking in frequently throughout the day to share our highs and lows, we will remember how we are to live. Making a point to continually be in an exchange with Him will anchor our hearts in an intimacy that will overflow into the rest of life. Relate to the Lord // Talk to Jesus from your heart today. Share your highs and lows. Listen for His response. 

February 17, 2026 // Optional Memorial of the Seven Founders of the Order of Servites, religious Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 8:14-21 Reflect on the Word //  An odd, creaking rumble emanated from the front of our new-to-us van as I pulled out of our driveway. Already this morning one child had dropped the full yogurt container, splattering its contents across the kitchen floor, and not even fifteen minutes later, another had pulled a glass jar to the edge of the table, where it—of course—dropped to the floor, sending glass shards everywhere. One thing after another was going wrong, and frustration was bubbling out of me in every form of complaint.  I’d been so quick to forget. Quick to forget the beautiful miracles I’d been privy to just in the past week. Both in my life as well as in those of several close friends, our loving Father’s gifts were apparent: a baby announcement after years of infertility, a huge financial gift helping to clear debt looming over us, a car accident that had miraculously left no one injured, and so many smaller day-to-day miracles too.  Our Gospel today opens with the disciples worrying about not having bread for their journey (see Mark 8:14-21). Jesus reminds them of a very recent miracle they had all witnessed: “And do you not remember, when I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many wicker baskets full of fragments you picked up?" (Mark 8:18b-19a) I catch myself in this same scenario. I turn back to the Father and recall His graciousness,  and I feel comforted knowing that He always has my true best interest in mind. This reassurance of God’s providence settles my frustrations. The Lord is gentle with us, aware of our human tendency to revert to worry and complaint. He is patient with our forgetfulness and lack of understanding. And we can take comfort in the same God who has time and time again performed miracles in our lives, providing for us today and in the future.  Relate to the Lord // Take a few moments to recall the “small” day-to-day miracles. Let gratitude wash over you and increase your hope for the future.

January 23, 2026 // Optional Memorial of Saint Marianne Cope, Virgin [in USA] // Optional Memorial of Saint Vincent, Deacon and Martyr [in USA] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: 1 Samuel 24:3-21  Reflect on the Word //  A car veers in front of me, causing me to slam on my brakes, narrowly missing a collision that threatened disaster. I bite my tongue, holding in the words I want to spew, and stay my hand from blasting the horn. Does that guy not understand physics?  Not even a mile down the road, my van pulls up alongside the other driver as our two lanes merge due to a construction project. Rather than speed up and maneuver into a spot in front of him, I pause, ask Jesus for strength in this moment, and let the other driver go first. Small steps of mercy. Often I find myself in the small moments of life where I am tempted to get back at someone who has hurt me or my family.  In today’s First Reading, David has an opportunity to get back at King Saul in a big way. Saul has been hunting David with an army of three thousand men. But then Saul chooses the very cave to relieve himself in which David so happens to be hiding. David very well could have murdered the king right then, but instead he just cuts off a corner of Saul’s cloak, and even that he later regrets.  While I don’t have anyone seeking to kill me, I do encounter times I can insert a biting word into a conversation or a revengeful thought rears up. David’s words to Saul remind me that “The LORD will judge between me and you, and the LORD will exact justice from you in my case” (1 Samuel 24:16). The desire for payback can be strong, but I ask the Lord to teach me surrender, to allow Him to be the judge and not me. He gives me the desire for mercy and true justice. True justice always comes from God. While it may feel satisfying in the moment, in retrospect, revenge mars our soul. Let us walk in the freedom of forgiveness, releasing judgment and offering it back to the Lord for Him to deal with.   Relate to the Lord // What small steps of mercy can you take today, with others or with yourself?

December 8, 2025 // Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary [Holy Day of Obligation] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Second Reading: Ephesians 1:3-6, 11-12 Reflect on the Word // I checked the last thing off of my extensive list and breathed an enormous sigh. Phew. Months of lining up campsites, choosing a rental pop-up camper, and planning educational (but fun) outings for each day of our two-week road trip had filled my every waking thought. We were finally at go time. I had poured so much effort and consideration into planning this trip traversing many states over thousands of miles. I just hoped my husband and each of my kids would feel how much love I’d poured in as we set off to adventure together. My plans felt huge and my brain capacity was at its max, but the love and excitement I felt made it all worth it.  Today as we celebrate our Blessed Mother Mary’s Immaculate Conception, I consider the perfect plan put into place by the God of the universe—the love story He carefully wrote into history, weaving the story of all stories. Before the Son was to become incarnate, all was precisely set and put in motion. Mary, being conceived without sin, set apart as a holy vessel in order to one day hold God made Man, was a crucial piece of it all.  Just a peek at today’s Readings shows the absolute perfection with which God orchestrated each moment of Salvation History, right down to the beginning of Mary’s life here on Earth. In Saint Paul’s words of exhortation to the Christians in Ephesus, he calls to mind how God the Father “chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before Him” (Ephesians 1:4). I pause and find comfort in being chosen, in being a beneficiary of God’s grand plan to redeem each of us. He thought I was worth pulling all the details together for.  Today as we celebrate our Lord’s mother and our mother, too, we can find absolute joy in knowing this grand gesture of planning and love was a gift for each of us. We are chosen in Him and have been for all eternity. Relate to the Lord // Remember that today is a holy day of obligation to attend Mass! How will you celebrate the Immaculate Conception today?

June 3, 2025 // Memorial of Saint Charles Lwanga and Companions, Martyrs Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 68:10-11, 20-21 Reflect on the Word //  I peek out my dining room window and spot my son under a rainbow of spray escaping the hose. I watch as he carefully turns to water each corner, knowing he’s already pulled a weed or two and diligently inspected for pests.  Tendrils of green burst out of the confines of our backyard garden. Pops of red tomatoes, yellow squash, and green, green, green vegetation overwhelming it all. The warmth of summer beckons life everywhere. And yet, only a few months ago, everything was vastly different. What now is fruitful and thriving was a dusty brown bed full of dead stalks from the previous year.  “A bountiful rain you showered down” (Psalm 68:10). Our hearts can become a parched land, longing to be alive but feeling dry and thirsty. The Father wants to restore the land of our souls. All we have to be ready with is offering our patch of dirt. He longs to bring it to life. “You restored the land when it languished” (Psalm 68:10). We need His grace to water our souls and allow us to grow. We need Him to pull the weeds (the sins) from our lives. And we need to remember that it takes time for restoration to happen.  “Blessed day by day be the Lord, who bears our burdens” (Psalm 68:20). The Lord wants us to be at peace, releasing our cares to Him. We can rest in the gardens of our hearts, enjoying the beauty that surrounds us, trusting in the love of the Father.  May we allow our Lord to be the Gardener of our souls, passing Him the trowel, allowing Him to root out the choking weeds, tenderly care for the plants, and bring life to us. Relate to the Lord // Invite Jesus the Gardener into your soul. Allow Him to show you where you need nurturing or pruning.  

April 22, 2025 // Tuesday in the Octave of Easter Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 20:11-18 Reflect on the Word //  A scared cry pierces the dark stillness: a nightly call from my three year old, troubled again by his nightmares. The blankets next to me shuffle as my husband swings his legs out, padding to our little boy’s side. I hear mumbled prayers and intermittent sniffles; I smile as I imagine his little hand being enveloped in his daddy’s.  My son recognizes his father and knows he’s safe. The presence of fatherly love calms his fears. That childlike trust is very simple and yet, I wonder if I’m that acutely aware of the love and care of the Lord.  Jesus, show me You. As Saint Mary Magdalene, when she was searching in the garden, was at first unaware she was speaking with her Lord, so we miss Him sometimes too. We can pray to recognize Him in the midst of life.  Make me aware of Your presence in my past. When we’re frustrated at how a situation turned out or a relationship went awry. When we blame ourselves for hurts caused. When the past’s painful stories and heartaches tug us downwards. Let’s pray to remember He’s been beside us, desiring to hold our hands and heal our hearts. Make me aware of Your presence in my now. In the joys and frustrations. When we fail or thrive. In the company of friends, in the delight of our family. In seemingly hopeless moments or the overwhelm of daily life. In traffic, burnt dinners, and endlessly sick children. In the crosses we’ve had thrust upon us, we beg Him to hold our hands and keep us upright.  Make me aware of Your presence in my future. We ask Him to take our fears of what may come. For the futures of our children and others we love. He wants to help us unclench our fists from carefully plotted plans and to remind us that our ways are not His ways. I’m not made for this world but for the one He’s prepared for me. May He hold our hands and lead us forward. In every situation of our lives, may we be looking for Christ, so we don’t mistake Him for the gardener. Let us know He is there, holding our hands. Relate to the Lord // Which prayer above resonated with you most? Make it your own, meditating on it today.

February 24, 2025 // Monday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Mark 9:14-29 Reflect on the Word //  Pain shot through my shoulder, radiating into my arm and neck. At this rate, I was going to end up in bed in hopes of easing the tension building and muscles spasming. “Lord, please take away this pain. Or at least lighten it . . . if You want to.” My prayer petered out as I uttered this request of mine. Maybe it was too selfish, too small, not worth asking. Was I bothering Jesus with insignificant blatherings about complaints? “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us” (Mark 9:22). If you can. This doubt that infringes upon the request of the father in today’s Gospel reading is one I know well. I have much greater faith when asking God to help someone I love, such as for healing a friend with cancer, or for a miracle in a family member’s marriage. But that if looms up when I ask something for myself. I doubt if I am worth it. If God cares about these small worries of mine. If He will hear and answer me.  And Jesus replies, “‘If you can!’ Everything is possible to one who has faith” (Mark 9:23). It is lack of faith—my doubt that He cares for me and my pain. I want to rely fully on the Father’s love for me, trusting that it covers even the smallest of my requests. And so I utter the same words of the father in today’s Gospel: “I do believe, help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) And I pray: Lord, show me Your compassion. Teach me Your love for me, the least of these. Make known Your care. Help my unbelief.  There are so many ways our faith can be shaken, our trust in God caring for us and our needs being attacked by doubt. Jesus wants us to receive the gift of faith and to walk freely in knowing He cares for each of us fully.  Relate to the Lord // Is there a situation you’re facing where you wonder if God cares? Honestly relate your fears to Him.

[Jesus] said to them [Andrew and Simon],“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” At once they left their nets and followed him. // Matthew 4:19-20 Hesitation grips me as I internally debate over inviting a friend to Mass.  Checking out at the grocery store, I wonder if I’m inundating the cashier with an explanation of my Miraculous Medal earrings.  I grimace, making a concerted effort to offer up my pain and embrace the suffering.  In some seasons, these actions come easily to me, and during others they are a struggle. I am inspired in these areas today by the Apostle Saint Andrew, whose feast we celebrate today, for two reasons.  First, we read in the Gospel of John that after meeting Jesus, Andrew does not hesitate to find his brother Simon and tell him, “We have found the Messiah” (John 1: 41). Andrew, called the “Protoclete” or “first of the Apostles,” had been following Saint John the Baptist, hoping in God’s promise of a Savior. He recognized in Jesus the One for whom they had been waiting. Andrew's response? Bring someone else along.  The second reason comes at the very end of Andrew’s life. Like most of the Apostles, he was martyred. Tradition holds that he died in Patras, Greece in the same way his Messiah had: by torture of crucifixion. What’s also been passed down is how he approached his death.  An ancient story from the sixth century tells of Saint Andrew greeting his own cross with joy and loving acceptance, saying: "Hail, O Cross, inaugurated by the Body of Christ and adorned with his limbs as though they were precious pearls. Before the Lord mounted you, you inspired an earthly fear. Now, instead, endowed with heavenly love, you are accepted as a gift” (source). Today is also the end of the Catholic liturgical year. So in honor of the “New Year,” ponder Saint Andrew’s bold faith and confidence. Pray about one way you can share the Gospel and embrace the crosses in your life beginning in Advent and continuing throughout this next year. 

“For what great nation is there that has gods so close to it as the Lord, our God, is to us whenever we call upon him?” // Deuteronomy 4:7 Growing up in various Protestant denominations, I often heard the questions, “Do you know Jesus as your personal Savior?” and “Have you had a personal encounter with Jesus?” Altar calls and publicly proclaiming one’s belief were common in the churches I attended. And yet, I went through many periods of self-doubt and second guessing myself. Had I really felt a personal experience? Was I being fully accepting?  In the First Reading (see Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-8) Moses calls the Israelites to remember that the Lord is walking with their nation more intimately than any of the other false gods do. He reminds them God asks no more or no less than for them to follow His Commandments, decrees set in place so that they may live in His freedom and love. This past February, I celebrated ten years of being in full communion with the Catholic Church, and now instead of parrying with my feelings, in times of doubt I can deduce with my mind what I know to be true: that yes, my Faith is personal.  Our Sacraments are physical acts we encounter personally with our senses even as they happen on a spiritual level. The water of Baptism poured over heads, the oils of Confirmation and Holy Unction marked onto foreheads, the priest’s words in Reconciliation taken in through our ears, and the bread and the wine is transubstantiated into the Eucharist, which we consume into our very being. Jesus gifted the Church with these physical experiences that invite us to touch, to taste, and to see. And we know through them that our God is walking with us so that we may live fully alive.  I encourage you to memorize and have handy the Act of Faith, so if you encounter doubt, you have words ready to pray. It’s a beautiful prayer for you to hold a place for in your mind. And physically go and encounter Jesus in the Sacraments, especially Reconciliation and Holy Eucharist. Be personal with our Lord and let Him be personal with you.

He got up, ate, and drank; then strengthened by that food, He walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb. // 1 Kings 19:8 We rolled into town after a weekend of family reunioning—time spent with cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents. Exhausted but our cups were full. And then it began—a sneaky norovirus had attached itself to a child and accompanied us home, and the inevitable began. All six of us were down within hours. I sat on the bathroom floor, the overwhelming list of what needed my attention running through my mind: pets and chickens fed, vacation laundry washed (and now sheets, too), and multiple children demanding aid in their distress. With my huge pregnant belly slowing me down, I called it quits.  “This is enough, O Lord!” (1 Kings 19:4) I felt like I was in an emotional, mental, and physical desert similar to Elijah in today’s First Reading (1 Kings 19:4-8). One thing after another was crumbling around me. And my strength had failed.  A friend reached out to ask how the weekend went, and I unloaded torrents of words depicting our present state. And without skipping a beat, she texted back: “I’ll be by with a plain dinner and paper towels—what else can I bring?”  Our temporal needs are important; my friend simply alleviating some of those on my plate gave me that bit of relief that allowed me to be strengthened enough to tackle the rest. As humans who are both bodies and souls, we need both physical and spiritual nourishment. I’m sure you’ve experienced how important a well-balanced, healthy breakfast helps you function, but what about feeding your soul with the Bread of Life that Jesus speaks of in today’s Gospel (see John 6:41-51)? How often do we run to this “bread that came down from heaven” and partake when we’re spiritually starving?  I challenge you, sisters, next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, parched, and empty, make space for spiritual nourishment. Add a daily Mass to your week, sneak away to spend time in Adoration. Be receptive to the greatest gift the Lord offers to you: Himself. Let Him feed your soul with His Body and Blood.

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.   They ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over—seven baskets. // Mark 8:8 “N-u-m-e-r-a-t-o-r,” I spell aloud to my one son. His giggles alert me to the fact that I’ve messed something up. While attempting to proctor one child’s spelling test alongside helping another with math lessons, I’ve mashed the two lessons into one. Meanwhile, the toddler is gleefully spreading flour around the room because I abandoned the dough I’d begun when the mathematics query tugged my attention away. I’ve created a kerfuffle of it all because of an incessant urge I have to be efficient, to cram in multiple things and make the most of my time. I leap for what I believe to be a shortcut only to have it leave me frustrated and no farther along in my day.  In today’s Old Testament reading (see 1 Kings 12:26-32; 13:33-34), Jeroboam realizes he could lose the hearts of the people if they travel to Jerusalem to offer sacrifice, so he creates a simpler path, one that seems easy on the surface but circumnavigates what God has asked of His people. And it works—the people choose the easy path of sin over obedience, with the final result being destruction. More times than not, efficiency stamps out love. Compare those people of the Old Testament reading with the crowd following Jesus in the Gospel reading (see Mark 8: 1-10). On the verge of collapsing, the crowd remains close to Jesus. He has compassion on them and their lack of sustenance and energy, and even though they did not plan ahead, He takes the little they do have and turns it into abundance. Jesus shows us that God’s grace is present to carry us through wherever we lack. It covers all we cannot accomplish alone. He wants us to bring what we have, offer it back to Him, and He promises to give us what we need for today. God is generous beyond our capacity to understand. My best efforts will eventually end in a muddle, but when I put it in His hands and depend upon God’s grace, my basket will be full for what He calls me to.

For to the Lord belongs our shield, and to the Holy One of Israel, our King. // Psalm 89:18 Reaching over, I guide my two-year-old’s hand in making the Sign of the Cross after he exuberantly dunked his hand into the holy water font. At this age, teaching is primarily hands-on as I show him what we do when in church and attending Holy Mass. Folding hands, listening for the sanctus bells, genuflecting. However, it’s not only physically what our bodies are doing, but the significance behind each gesture. This is the fifth child I’m walking through these motions, and I’ve found myself whispering to him alongside each action things like, “This helps us remember our Baptism,” and “When we kneel, we show Jesus reverence.” And as he carefully attempts to balance upon one shaky knee, “Genuflecting reminds us Who our King is and how we owe Him our allegiance and honor.” Big words for a little man, but ones full of meaning. In today’s First Reading (see 1 Samuel 8:4-7, 10-22a), the people of Israel are begging for an earthly king to rule over them, and God has His prophet Samuel lay down a lengthy warning of what will follow: their sons being assigned to run in front of the king’s chariot, their daughters being taken for his cooks, livestock taken as tithe.  In modern times our “kings” take on a different form: our jobs, our demanding schedules, our goals and desires, and even our callings have the temptation to take an overarching position in our lives. God allows us the freedom in choosing our king but with the consequence of being subject to it. When we instead place these “kings” in their rightful place under the True King, offering Him our allegiance first and foremost, all else falls in line.   When you next go through the motions at Mass, take a moment to orient your mind and heart to who your King is and what you owe Him. Make your actions reflect your heart’s allegiance.

But now that you have been freed from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit that you have leads to sanctification, and its end is eternal life. // Romans 6:22 I roll over, bleary-eyed, poised to pick up my phone, unread notifications pleading for my attention. But I stop, remembering to Whom I owe the first fruits of my day, the first moments of waking. I know changing positions or turning on a light will waken the toddler to my left or the lump across the end of the bed, which of course is another child who has crawled in for comfort.  I close my eyes and recite in a whisper a morning offering, three Hail Marys, and an Our Father. Simple, but a start. A moment of silence contemplating Christ’s suffering on the Cross and how that changes me. Mutterings behind me, and it’s time to start the day. Day in and day out, the temptation to see what I’ve missed or just “quickly” check in on the glowing device beckons tantalizingly. But the time spent racks up quickly. It’s far too easy to become slaves of our devices. Today’s First Reading of Romans 6:19-23 talks of being “slaves of sin” and queries: “But what profit did you get then from the things of which you are now ashamed?” (Romans 6:21) It’s not that our phones and tablets are evil—in reality they are just tools, but if they control us, they are, in a way, enslaving us. When we cannot say no to their tempting pull to glance at notifications or flip through Instagram Stories, they win. God deserves our best, our first and last moments of each day. He is essential for our well being, the path to our sanctification.  Sister, let’s make it our goal that at the end of the week our recreational Screen Time reports would show less time than our time spent in prayer and service. How can you make that happen in your life?

The Lord takes delight in his people. // Psalm 149:4 Pulled away from my spot of comfort, I made my way towards the waves lapping at the sand. A little hand tugged me along farther from my camping chair upon which I’d been perched—clean, on the outskirts of the scene, watching my children splash and play from a safe distance. My skirt was still on over my suit, proof of how little I planned to get wet.  But down I plopped, right in the wet and sandy shoreline. And it was good. Toes digging into cool sand as warm rays of sunshine beamed down. My sweet toddler right next to me chattering with a mix of hesitation and approval at this new space. Nearby sat my friend and her daughter, my goddaughter, who happily sucked fists moistened by lake water. An ordinary moment, but I paused, entered in, and delighted in all the beauty and wonder of that slice of time. It’s easy to delight in small children—they truly are so lovable. And this absolute delight in a person’s existence, this is how Jesus loves you. Not because of what you are doing or not doing, but because of who you are. Your very existence. That’s it. He delights in you along with your silliness, your hesitations, your mock confidence, and your insecurities, and He cherishes you in your pain and your brokenness.  You. You are worth delighting in because you exist. Nowhere else in life are you going to hear that without the love of Jesus at the heart of the relationship. Elsewhere more is demanded: skill, added value, a sense of humor, toned-down behavior, a more outgoing personality. We are required by the world to do more, have more, be more. But in the Kingdom of God, you must only bring you and let Him do the rest.

"Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you." // Luke 1:28 Mary, our Blessed Mother, was never a hurdle I had to overcome as I began my journey into full communion with the Catholic Church. For my husband, the Marian dogmas were ones he wrestled with, but by the time we were being confirmed, he was well on his way to being a devoted aficionado. On my end, it was much slower. I could logically accept Church teaching on Mary as virgin, Mary as sinless, and even Mary as queen, but I was not drawn to her. While I could wrap my head around the concepts and believe them, Mary just wasn’t my go-to. Fast forward several years into my life as a Catholic and my own mother was diagnosed with cancer. As the reality hit that I could lose her, I realized I needed Mary. It was time to work on deepening my relationship with my second mama, Mary. Today we celebrate the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary, fittingly just one week after her Assumption into Heaven. After she was brought into Heaven at the end of her earthly life, she was thus honored as befitting her humble and constant yes. Now established as queen, she is not overbearing and does not attempt control, but instead extends her motherhood to all. This grace-filled, gentle mothering was exactly what my heart needed in my time of fear and uncertainty. She was waiting, and she was ready. Ready to hear what lay heavy on my heart. Ready to remind me Satan was crushed under her own heel. Ready to illuminate the path to her Son. And ready to be a mother to me.  Mary, Mother of the King, signifies to us the true path to our own Heavenly crowns. A path of self-sacrifice and humbleness. Her allegiance to the King is not one of duty, but of pure unadulterated love. And each of us is held in her motherly gaze of love and protection. Celebrate Mary, our Queen and Mother, today by offering a Rosary of thanksgiving or singing along to a Marian hymn, and thank her for being your bonus mama. *See the Readings for the Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

For you know the gracious act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that for your sake he became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty you might become rich. // 2 Corinthians 8:9 “But mama, if I get it then I’ll be happy!” Sighing, I decided a different tactic was needed in explaining to my 6-year-old where actual happiness came from. “Ok, I want you to think of someone you’ve met who always seems happy.” I expected him to mull over this and was curious who he’d define as such. Immediately, he blurted out the names of one of our diocesan priests and a Sister of Life we met years ago, declaring them to be always happy. “Do you think they are always getting the newest building sets and that’s why they are happy?” Realizing the false connection, he admitted that probably wasn’t the case. In today’s First Reading (see 2 Corinthians 8:1-9), Saint Paul extolled the Church in Macedonia, sharing not only of their sheer generosity and overwhelming joy, but of how their first offering of themselves was to God.  We are called to be imitators of Christ, becoming one with Him. We are also to give of ourselves without measure. In spirituality, we are poor, and He is richness itself. And yet Christ came to empty Himself fully, impoverishing Himself to humanity’s level to exemplify love, and offering true happiness. And what He asks of us is to give ourselves back to Him.  Both people who immediately came to my young son’s mind were defined by whose they were and how that manifested. No matter how much or little time we spent with these two individuals, what was clear to him was how much they loved Jesus and the sheer joy they received from serving people who desperately needed that love and joy too.  Sister, I invite you today to pray the Prayer for Generosity from Saint Ignatius of Loyola and ask God to teach you the path to happiness, that of true generosity. 

« Quiconque mange ma chair et boit mon sang a la vie éternelle, et je le ressusciterai au dernier jour. Car ma chair est une vraie nourriture, et mon sang est une vraie boisson. // Jean 6:54 Sainte Gianna Berretta est née il y a un peu plus de cent ans à Milan dans une famille catholique fidèle. Elle a pleinement embrassé son héritage catholique et a vu la vie pour le beau cadeau qu'elle est. Après avoir obtenu son diplôme de médecine, elle s'est généreusement investie dans sa communauté, au service des mères, des bébés, des personnes âgées et des pauvres, avec un accent particulier sur la pédiatrie. Son mariage avec Pietro Molla était heureux et ils s'efforçaient de se pousser l'un l'autre vers le bien ultime : le paradis. On dit : « Avec simplicité et équilibre, elle a harmonisé les exigences de la mère, de l'épouse, du médecin et sa passion pour la vie » ( source ). Lorsque Gianna était enceinte de leur quatrième enfant, on a découvert qu'elle avait un fibrome dans l'utérus. Plutôt que d'aller de l'avant avec un avortement ou une hystérectomie (qui auraient tous deux mis fin à la vie de son enfant), Gianna a choisi la voie de l'amour, demandant au chirurgien de retirer uniquement la tumeur, mais mettant sa propre vie en danger. .* Faisant entièrement confiance à la Providence de Dieu, Gianna a choisi de protéger sa petite fille. Le bébé est né en bonne santé et fort, et Gianna est décédée une semaine plus tard. Aujourd'hui, nous célébrons la vie de ce Saint moderne et son entrée dans l'Église Triomphante. Notre lecture de l'Evangile de Jean 6 raconte la réfutation de Jésus aux questions des Juifs concernant le fait de manger Sa Chair. En tant que catholiques, c'est une promesse et une source de grande espérance. A chaque Saint Sacrifice de la Messe, nous sommes littéralement invités à recevoir Jésus en nous. Sa promesse est celle de la vie, une promesse en laquelle Gianna a fait entièrement confiance lorsqu'elle a choisi l'amour, sachant que le plan de Dieu s'étendait au-delà de cette vie sur terre. Aujourd'hui, je vous mets au défi de sortir votre agenda et d'écrire une date et une heure cette semaine à venir où vous assisterez à une messe quotidienne supplémentaire pour participer à ce plus grand des cadeaux. Et peut-être manger une glace pour fêter ce saint milanais. *Pour plus d'informations sur l'enseignement de l'Église sur le principe du double effet et les circonstances de la mort de sainte Gianna, voir ici .