October 24, 2026 // Saturday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Anthony Mary Claret, Bishop Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 4:7-16  Reflect on the Word // I sat across from a dear friend—fresh tears rolled slowly down her face. Her eyes searched for words that would somehow make sense of the suffering she held tenderly in her heart. I sat and listened instead of trying to fix it. As she shared, I recognized parts of my own story within hers—moments of waiting, disappointment, betrayal, and questions that once felt too heavy to bring to God.  As we sat together, I remembered just how faithfully the Lord had met me there, not by removing every hardship, but by remaining with me through them. His presence became the anchor among the waves. And a quiet realization became the only comfort I had to offer: He knows. He truly knows. Saint Paul writes, "Grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift" (Ephesians 4:7). Before speaking about the gifts Christ gives, he reminds us that Jesus first "descended into the lower regions of the earth" before ascending in glory (Ephesians 4:9-10). Christ did not save us from a distance—He became Man and entered every part of our human experience. Christ our Lord knew grief, rejection, loneliness, exhaustion, and sorrow. There is no suffering we carry in our lives that is unfamiliar to Him. Because He entered our humanity so completely, we can entrust Him with every part of our hearts. He can then become our anchor when life feels uncertain. Yet He doesn't only meet us in our suffering—He transforms us through it. Christ gives each of us grace "for building up the body of Christ" (Ephesians 4:12). The places where we have encountered His faithfulness often become the places from which we can encourage others. In Christ's hands, no suffering is wasted. He forms us through it, then uses our stories to reveal His hope and faithfulness to the world. Each of us has been given unique gifts through Christ, and many are shaped in the hidden, quiet places where we have encountered His love most personally. The Lord Who entered our humanity is still at work, strengthening us, maturing us, and using our lives to build up His Church with hope. Relate to the Lord // Pray with us the refrain from the Surrender Novena: “Jesus, I surrender myself to You, take care of everything!”

October 23, 2026 // Friday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time //Optional Memorial of Saint John of Capistrano, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 24:1-2, 3-4ab, 5-6  Reflect on the Word //  On an average day I probably see over three hundred faces before 10 a.m. Faces tell us a lot about people. With a quick glance across my classroom I can take in the faces of all my students and know, generally speaking, how class is going to go that day. I know especially that if a certain student in the corner has a mischievous grin there’s a scheme afoot to derail the lesson with some hypothetical, “Sister, what if . . . ?” I have to ask myself, though, as I take in all the faces I encounter throughout a day, am I seeking the One face that truly matters? “Lord this is the people that longs to see your face” (Psalm 24:6). Do I recognize that in every face, in every person I encounter throughout the day, I can seek the face of the Lord? In every circumstance, every decision, in every moment, am I seeking the face of the Lord present in time and in eternity? As the Creator of the universe, His “are the earth and its fullness; the world and those who dwell in it.” (Psalm 24:1). It is easy to glance superficially at my day and miss out on opportunities to recognize the ways the Lord is speaking to me through a conversation with a friend, an interaction with a student or co-worker, a beautiful sunset. How often I let those things roll off my back and move on to the next encounter without pausing to ask the Lord to show me where He was in that moment. We are “the race that seeks for Him” (Psalm 24:6), seeking to “stand in his holy place . . . [desiring] not what is vain” (Psalm 24:3-4). To do that, though, we have to look beyond what we notice at first glance. We have to be a people who acknowledge that He is present to us always, longing to show us His face in a myriad of ways so that we can truly come to know His love for us and, gazing upon His face, to truly know Him, our Savior and Redeemer. Relate to the Lord // Pray for the grace to “seek His face” in the faces of those you meet today. 

October 22, 2026 // Thursday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time //  Optional Memorial of Saint John Paul II, Pope Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 3:17-19. Reflect on the Word //  On September 19, 1987, we waited with our seven-month-old daughter and 93,680 people for the arrival of Pope John Paul II. As the popemobile entered the Pontiac Silverdome (normally home to loud football fans), a quiet, awed hush fell over the crowd as we recognized the tangible presence of holiness and greatness. Smiling and waving, the Pope made his way to the stage for the papal Mass, and then quite unexpectedly, stopped directly in front of our seats. We thrust our daughter high in the air and John Paul II extended his hand towards baby Sarah, bestowing on her a papal blessing! Today as we celebrate the Memorial of Pope Saint John Paul II and I ponder today’s Mass readings, I am reminded of our brief but powerful encounter with him almost forty years ago. In the First Reading, Saint Paul prayed fervently that believers in Christ might be given a deep understanding of God’s sacrificial love, resulting in perfect union with Him. Saint Paul’s prayer was beautifully embodied in the life of Pope John Paul the Great. Christ dwelt in Pope John Paul the Great’s heart through faith (see Ephesians 3:17) and, although the Saint was a brilliant theologian and writer, he did not merely give an intellectual assent and articulation of truth. His faith was also expressed in deep trust and faithfulness to Jesus, despite much suffering and loss. God’s love, conveyed through his loving family and the extraordinary motherly protection and care of the Blessed Mother, was the foundation on which young Karol Wojtyła’s life was built and the soil in which he was planted and grew. God’s power (see Ephesians 3:18) enables us, like it did John Paul II, to personally experience the great dimension of Christ’s infinite, sacrificial love expressed upon the Cross. Amid a darkening world, Divine Love compelled him to fight for human freedom and a renewed call to holiness. And we too are compelled by that same Divine Love. Sisters, today let us ask Saint Paul and Saint John Paul the Great to pray for us! May we also be rooted and grounded in Christ’s love, and have the power to know and to witness to this love that surpasses knowledge. Relate to the Lord // Consider praying this prayer of Saint John Paul II today. 

October 21, 2026 // Wednesday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 3:2-12 Reflect on the Word //  “Frustration is the price we pay for wisdom.”  These words were from an instructor of a leadership course at work, and they still follow me around to this day. As someone who tries to understand right and wrong very clearly, I often struggle with the weight and duty of seeing this wisdom and acting accordingly. At work, in my personal life, in my relationships, everywhere—I get frustrated that others don’t see choices and decisions the way I do. Why doesn’t anyone else understand it this way? In today’s First Reading, Saint Paul shares that he too was blessed with action-driven wisdom all those years ago: “You have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace that was given to me for your benefit, namely, that the mystery was made known to me by revelation” (Ephesians 3:2-3). The spiritual knowledge revealed to Paul wasn’t only for him—it was also for those around him to be impacted by that gift of the Holy Spirit. The disciple goes on, “Of this I became a minister [. . .] so that the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known through the church” (Ephesians 3:7, 10). Saint Paul’s letter empowered me: Maybe the things I get to know and see are for the benefit of others too, and frustration may just be the tuition we pay for learning and doing extraordinary things. Like my instructor, and Saint Paul in his letters to the Ephesians, we should be grateful for the things revealed to us and see the goodness behind them and their subsequent call for action. What a gift—that God would trust us with His knowledge and that we would do good with it! Sister, take some time today to pray about what you see clearly, where your Holy Spirit-gifted wisdom leads you, and discern what God may be asking you to do with that unique perspective you have been blessed with. Relate to the Lord // Write down the fruit of this prayer today and what it seems God is asking you to do. Ask for the wisdom to discern and the grace to accomplish it. 

October 20, 2026 // Tuesday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Paul of the Cross, Priest [In the Dioceses of the United States] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 85:8-14  Reflect on the Word //  I stare out the window as my leg jiggles up and down. I have so much nervous energy coursing through me that I can’t keep still. My mind is running down a long list of things that are worrying me, and the news I just received didn’t help. Someone I love received a serious negative health diagnosis and the weight of it all is bringing tears to my eyes.  As I think about today’s First Reading, the verse “For he is our peace” (Ephesians 2:14) keeps echoing in my mind. The Psalms continue to bring the point home: “The Lord speaks of peace to his people” (Psalm 85:9). However, instead of comforting me, it angers and annoys me. How am I supposed to find peace in this chaos, Lord? Why do You make this so difficult? I am tired of this and I am mad at You for not stopping it.  I feel like a toddler overwhelmed with big feelings and lashing out against any attempt of comfort. God waits for me until the right moment; then He reaches out and holds me as I cry. Slowly I can feel my anger subsiding and I cling to Him, begging for strength as I recall the Psalm again: “I will hear what God proclaims; the Lord—for he proclaims peace” (Psalm 85:9). There is no promise of an easy life, quite the opposite. There are seasons when life is sweet and we relish all the simple joys it has to offer. In other seasons, serious issues and life circumstances can bring us down and weigh heavy on our hearts. It’s okay to be honest with God and share exactly what we are feeling, but we also pray for the grace to listen and humbly allow Him to speak to our hearts. He assures us that we aren’t alone and His peace is ours for the asking. Relate to the Lord // Pray with us this prayer for inner peace.

October 19, 2026 // Memorial of Saints John de Brébeuf and Isaac Jogues, Priests, and Companions, Martyrs [In the Dioceses of the United States] Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 2:11-10 Reflect on the Word //  Within a day, everything changed. Within a week, I had left my home, moved into a new apartment and begun daily medical treatments for a sudden health crashout from chronic illness.  Noooo! I protested with the Lord. I am supposed to be back at my art program apprenticing under my master artist teacher. I am your Teacher. Jesus reminded me firmly and truthfully, I am the Master Artist. You apprentice under Me. But You called me there, and I moved my entire life to follow You and to study and train at this academy. It’s okay. I am now creating you as a masterpiece of art, He said in my heart, silencing my protests.  Sometimes God raises us up and seats us in the heavenly places with Him (see Ephesians 2:6) through experiences that we would not like to undergo. He changes our plans, even plans and callings that He Himself has given to us. Like my year of severe medical intervention, there are times that He invites us to join Him up on the Cross.  These seasons may not be pretty and may really hurt, but these experiences are never meant to be meaningless suffering. It is for our salvation, to “show the immeasurable riches of his grace in his kindness to us” (Ephesians 2:7). It is for God to make us into His masterpiece. “For we are his handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has prepared in advance” (Ephesians 2:10). Jesus is the Divine Artist, the Master Teacher, holding us and forming us in His creative hands.  Whether this current season is one of suffering or contentment, let us celebrate this “gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). He is making you into His beloved masterpiece.  Relate to the Lord // If possible, make some time today to go before our Lord in the Eucharist. Ask Him to continue to transform you into His masterpiece. 

October 17, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Ignatius of Antioch, Bishop and Martyr Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 8:2-3ab, 4-5, 6-7  Reflect on the Word //  It was the last afternoon of my family’s beach vacation. While my husband tossed a football with some of our children and the others chased waves on their boogie boards, I drifted quietly in the ocean. Tilting my face toward the warm sun, I let the water hold me. The rhythmic waves, salty breeze, and brilliant blue sky seemed to wash every distraction away. As I floated there, I became deeply aware that God saw me. Not because I was accomplishing anything or checking something off my to-do list, but simply because I was fully present to the moment He had given me, content and peaceful within His beautiful creation. In that moment, I truly sensed His delight in me. In today’s Psalm, David expresses a similar wonder: “When I see your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you set in place—What is man that you are mindful of him, and a son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4-5) Standing before the grandeur of creation, it is easy to feel small. The vast ocean, like the countless stars, reminds us just how great God is. Yet instead of concluding that we are insignificant, David marvels that the Creator of it all chooses to be mindful of us. How often do we forget that? We measure our worth by productivity, perfection, or whether anyone notices our efforts. But God’s love does not depend on any of those things. The God Who fashioned the heavens also knows each of our names, our fears, and our joys. We don’t have to earn His attention—we already have it. Today, take time to pause and watch the sunrise, gaze at the stars, breathe in the fragrance of a flower, or listen to the ocean’s waves. Then remember: The God Whose glory fills creation also sees and delights in you. Relate to the Lord // Spend time in nature today and read Psalm 8. May you experience His delight.

October 16, 2026 // Friday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Hedwig, Religious // Optional Memorial of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, Virgin Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 1:11-14 Reflect on the Word //  Imagine living in France in the early 1900s, receiving a letter from a young religious named Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, who was suffering from Addison’s disease and nearing the end of her life. You’d likely get a bit of news, inquiries about your life, some uplifting advice, spiritual encouragement, and the promise of her prayers. As you reach the end of the letter, you notice something: rather than signing it as “Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity” she signs it with a flourish: Laudem Gloriae, or “Praise of Glory.” Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity had a special love for the letters of Saint Paul. She was particularly drawn to a passage in Saint Paul’s letters to the Ephesians which we read in today’s First Reading: “[. . .] so that we might exist for the praise of his glory, we who first hoped in Christ ” (Ephesians 1:12, emphasis added). As she prayed with this passage, she came to see that not only are we called to praise God in our lives and prayer, but to actually become praise, that is, living acts of worship. “In Heaven,” she wrote, “each soul is a praise of glory of the Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit” (Source). This beautiful Saint spoke deeply to me from Heaven as I first read her letters years ago. She challenged me to see differently, pray differently, live and love differently. She wants to speak to you, too, asking if you can imagine yourself not just as the recipient of a letter from a convent, but a new “name,” bestowed on you by virtue of your Baptism.   We are being invited to see our very identity as a praise of glory, that is, a soul whose existence is centered on the love and worship of God. We are called to reflect back to Him His own goodness, bursting forth in praise, unable to contain ourselves as we know ourselves to be loved and forgiven. Praise becomes for us then not only a noun, but a name.  Let’s claim this identity and begin to live it. Relate to the Lord // Is there someone who could benefit from a letter, email, or text message from you? Include in it a witness and praise to God for something He has done in your life. 

October 16, 2026 // Friday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Hedwig, Religious // Optional Memorial of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, Virgin Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Ephesians 1:11-14 Reflect on the Word //  Imagine living in France in the early 1900s, receiving a letter from a young religious named Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, who was suffering from Addison’s disease and nearing the end of her life. You’d likely get a bit of news, inquiries about your life, some uplifting advice, spiritual encouragement, and the promise of her prayers. As you reach the end of the letter, you notice something: rather than signing it as “Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity,” she signs it with a flourish: Laudem Gloriae, or “Praise of Glory.” Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity had a special love for the letters of Saint Paul. She was particularly drawn to a passage in Saint Paul’s letters to the Ephesians which we read in today’s First Reading: “[. . .] so that we might exist for the praise of his glory, we who first hoped in Christ ” (Ephesians 1:12, emphasis added). As she prayed with this passage, she came to see that not only are we called to praise God in our lives and prayer, but to actually become praise, that is, living acts of worship. “In Heaven,” she wrote, “each soul is a praise of glory of the Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit” (Source). This beautiful Saint spoke deeply to me from Heaven as I first read her letters years ago. She challenged me to see differently, pray differently, live and love differently. She wants to speak to you, too, asking if you can imagine yourself not just as the recipient of a letter from a convent, but a new “name,” bestowed on you by virtue of your Baptism.   We are being invited to see our very identity as a praise of glory, that is, a soul whose existence is centered on the love and worship of God. We are called to reflect back to Him His own goodness, bursting forth in praise, unable to contain ourselves as we know ourselves to be loved and forgiven. Praise becomes for us then not only a noun, but a name.  Let’s claim this identity and begin to live it. Relate to the Lord // Is there someone who could benefit from a letter, email, or text message from you? Include in it a witness and praise to God for something He has done in your life. 

October 15, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 15:1-8 Reflect on the Word //  Please, Lord, don’t let it be him, I silently begged as the priest’s booming voice thundered through my home parish.   I hadn’t expected our new, long-awaited pastor to begin celebrating Masses on this particular morning, and my lack of eyeglasses prevented me from seeing him clearly. But I couldn't imagine someone so, well, loud, being called to lead us. Don’t get me wrong, his homily was beautiful and full of bold truth, but here’s the thing: I was accustomed to shepherds who spoke with a strong yet tender tone, and my heart—not to mention my nerves—were thoroughly jarred.   Soften him, Jesus, I pleaded, as a dart of remorse immediately pierced my heart. No, Lord, I offered up instead, Soften my heart to him.   I believe this interior conversion was only possible because of the words Jesus speaks to us in today’s Gospel: “He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and every one that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit” (John 15:2). Grafted onto Jesus the Vine, it becomes glaringly obvious what “branches” in my mind and heart need to be cut away, the twigs and thorny areas that need His gentle touch of pruning to bear life.    Because the truth is, on my own, I would overlook all that hinders my growth in Him: the sinful and disordered “fruits” that choke the life of divine love in the garden of my soul. But our good God doesn’t leave me—or any of us—on our own. With audacious love, He invites us to a relationship in which we share the same life source, just like a vine and its branches (see John 15:4-5). And the offshoots of this intimate bond are the sanctifying fruits of grace.  Sister, rotten fruit cannot stay when we are rooted in Life Himself. So let us remain. Like Saint Teresa of Avila, whose closeness to Christ bore abundant fruit, may we always cling to Him, the Master Gardener. For the work of His hands is holy. And bad fruit doesn’t stand a chance against His abiding love.   Relate to the Lord // Pray with us Saint Teresa’s prayer and let nothing separate you from the Vine today.

October 15, 2026 // Memorial of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: John 15:1-8 Reflect on the Word //  Please, Lord, don’t let it be him, I silently begged as the priest’s booming voice thundered through my home parish.   I hadn’t expected our new, long-awaited pastor to begin celebrating Masses on this particular morning, and my lack of eyeglasses prevented me from seeing him clearly. But I couldn't imagine someone so, well, loud, being called to lead us. Don’t get me wrong, his homily was beautiful and full of bold truth, but here’s the thing: I was accustomed to shepherds who spoke with a strong yet tender tone, and my heart—not to mention my nerves—were thoroughly jarred.   Soften him, Jesus, I pleaded, as a dart of remorse immediately pierced my heart. No, Lord, I offered up instead, Soften my heart to him.   I believe this interior conversion was only possible because of the words Jesus speaks to us in today’s Gospel: “He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and every one that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit” (John 15:2). Grafted onto Jesus the Vine, it becomes glaringly obvious what “branches” in my mind and heart need to be cut away, the twigs and thorny areas that need His gentle touch of pruning to bear life.    Because the truth is, on my own, I would overlook all that hinders my growth in Him: the sinful and disordered “fruits” that choke the life of divine love in the garden of my soul. But our good God doesn’t leave me—or any of us—on our own. With audacious love, He invites us to a relationship in which we share the same life source, just like a vine and its branches (see John 15:4-5). And the offshoots of this intimate bond are the sanctifying fruits of grace.  Sister, rotten fruit cannot stay when we are rooted in Life Himself. So let us remain. Like Saint Teresa of Avila, whose closeness to Christ bore abundant fruit, may we always cling to Him, the Master Gardener. For the work of His hands is holy. And bad fruit doesn’t stand a chance against His abiding love.   Relate to the Lord // Pray with us Saint Teresa’s prayer and let nothing separate you from the Vine today.

October 14, 2026 // Wednesday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Callistus I, Pope and Martyr Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:42-46  Reflect on the Word //  I was pulling staples out of the subflooring while my teenage sons loosened nailstrips from the old carpeting. Weeks into our home-improvement project, this was the first time they were involved in the early stages of renovations. Even though they’d heard my husband describe the steps to prepare for the new floor, my sons hadn’t seen how it worked. They know how to follow directions and use the simple tools but, without seeing a demonstration, they might have made avoidable mistakes and become frustrated, perhaps even giving up.  Today’s Gospel came to mind as I worked with my sons. I could have stood above my boys while they worked, giving them directions without an example. I could have left them alone after telling them what to do. I could have left them with the burden of figuring out how to do what was expected. As I continued to pull up staples and give tips to my boys, I thought of the scholars and Pharisees who did not lift a finger to help the people (see Luke 11:46). Connections fell into place in my mind: As I worked side by side with my sons, I eased their burden of learning and working alone. The scholars and Pharisees could have engaged more with the people rather than merely imposing burdens with the law. They could have learned from Jesus, discovering the Heart of God rather than neglecting Him (see Luke 11:42). And I thought about Jesus, Who shouldered the burden of our sins during His Passion.  Jesus’ Incarnation is the ultimate example to us. He became Man to share in the joys and sorrows of this life, to show us how to love and serve. He did more than “lift one finger” (Luke 11:46). Through His Passion, Jesus spent every last drop of His life.  Relate to the Lord // Name one joy and one sorrow on your heart today. Ask Jesus to shoulder the burdens and to show you how He rejoices with you in your joys. 

October 13, 2026 // Tuesday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Galatians 5:1-6  Reflect on the Word //  If you’ve ever been a parent to a teenager you probably understand the frustration of trying to teach the same lesson, or correct the same bad behavior, over and over and over again. You explain why the bad behavior is wrong, why it’s bad for that child personally, all the unintended possible consequences, and the importance these actions can have on their immortal souls. But lo and behold, that same teenage kid goes out and chooses the same not-so-great behavior.  I think about this frustration when I take my own sins to the Lord in Confession. I commit the same small sins over and over and over again even though I know Christ’s teachings. Just like my own children, I commit the same mistakes and sins again through habit but also because one of the effects of sin is to enslave us, sometimes even in those small pesky sins we think are no big deal.  Maybe you are like me and think that the small sins we commit or allow to continue just out of habit aren’t a big deal. But that may be part of the yoke of slavery that Saint Paul speaks of today (see Galatians 5:1). By assuming small sins are no big deal, or that habits of sin don’t need to be broken, our minds have fallen under a kind of yoke. A belief that we don’t need to actively choose freedom in Jesus Christ.  “For freedom Christ has set us free” (Galatians 5:1), a freedom that rejects even the small sins that want to pull us down into slavery. By choosing to receive the Sacrament of Penance we stand firm against that yoke and, through Christ’s mercy and forgiveness in the Sacrament, we can again experience “faith working through love” (Galatians 5:6). It is this faith that makes a life of freedom possible.  Relate to the Lord // Examine your conscience today and make a commitment to receive the Sacrament of Penance this week.

October 12, 2026 // Monday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s First Reading: Galatians 4:22-24, 26-27, 31–5:1  Reflect on the Word // I sat down at the dinner table. The clanging of a spoon against the plate provoked a paternal reprimand at the table, as the toddler attempted to remind us that it was time to actually begin supper. I expressed my gratitude for this beautiful family hosting me as the blessing of the meal was prayed all together.  The different courses began to be shuffled from one adult to the next. The child playing serenely sat back in confidence of provision as his plate grew fuller. We started to eat and the storytelling began. An announcement was made that it was time for dessert and I asked if I could get a second helping of one of the scrumptious side dishes. The toddler looked at me with a smile on his face and said, “Sure you can, you’re free.” We all burst out laughing, but the toddler kept straight-faced, confused as to what the adults found to be so funny. He stated matter of factly, “But she is! She’s free to.” Driving away from this beautiful home later that evening, I began to reflect on my day and that hysterically moving experience. The clarity and purity of this child revealed to me something of the certain faith that Paul must have had when he proclaimed, “For freedom, Christ has set us free. So stand firm” (Galatians 5:1). This son was at home in the providence of his family. Anticipating the simple joys to come, he moved in lock-step with the rhythm his parents set out for his literal sustenance.  The Father wants us to follow the ways of His commands, so that we can delight in the freedom that comes from being His sons and daughters. The Lord delights in us, over us, and through us. He rejoices in our freedom and longs for us to rejoice too and make our desires known in Him. Rooted in the clarity of Jesus being the Way, the Truth, and the Life, we stand firm in the goodness of His love. Relate to the Lord // Make a list today of the ways in which God has provided for your sustenance–let it move you to live in trust and freedom of heart. 

October 10, 2026  // Saturday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:27-28 Reflect on the Word //  She cuddles into me, nuzzling my breast, relaxing against my stomach, the milk flowing into her little growing body. Awe, surprise, wonder overcome me yet again. Here she is—a baby born nearly eleven years after our last—living, breathing, existing in my arms. I find I am more able to give myself in love to her than I was with my other babies after the long years of seeking God’s will for my life and accepting whatever came my way with trust. I feel blessed to have the womb that carried her and breasts that nurse her.  The woman in the crowd in today’s Gospel was not wrong that Jesus’ mother, Mary, was blessed in bearing her Son in her womb and nourishing Him at her breast (see Luke 11:27). But prior to her bearing Him as a Son, she was already blessed. Mary spent her whole life hearing the word of God and observing it, and that is what first made her blessed (see Luke 11:28; Luke 1:28, 38). She was given the gift of being the Mother of God because she was perfectly aligned to God’s will, united to Him with her whole heart, mind, strength, and soul. Whether we have borne a child or not, God wants to bless us. He wants to fill us with grace to hear His word and do His will in our lives. As women, we are physically and spiritually oriented to caring for and nourishing the lives of others. That might look like caring for your own children or your ailing parent. It might be offering friendship to a co-worker, talking to that stranger at church, teaching a classroom full of children, or showing patience to a client. God created us to care for each other, to bring His love to each other. When we hear His word and do His will with His love for others in our hearts, we will find that our lives are full of His grace, just like His mother’s. Relate to the Lord // What is one concrete way we can care for someone in our lives today? Ask for the wisdom to discern the need and provide the care that blesses them. 

October 9, 2026 // Friday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time // Optional Memorial of Saint Denis, Bishop and Martyr, and his Companions, Martyrs //                                               Optional Memorial of Saint John Leonardi, Priest Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Psalm: Psalm 111:1b-2, 3-4, 5-6.  Reflect on the Word //  Trudging through the ankle-deep irrigation water, I wrestle with sleepiness and call to mind the goodness that surrounds me. Thank You, Lord, that we can receive this water in a desert. Thank You for my spouse, who will wake up at 4 a.m. to take care of our property. I begin the litany and let my heart move from the present, tangible things to the sacred and eternal. The pinkish-purple glow of the sunrise reminds me that this is a new dawn, a new day filled with hope, possibility, and maybe even unexpected surprises. At that moment, as the sun begins to appear and I give thanks to the Lord for the beauty of His works, my chore becomes an adventure. In today's Psalm, we proclaim that God will remember His covenant forever, and we give thanks (see Psalm 111:5). We marvel at the works of the Lord. Ankle-deep in the water of real life, it can be easy to forget about God's promises and to give thanks in all circumstances. Because God is a truly good and loving Father, He will provide for us. In the drought or in the downpour, He will provide all that we need. Gratitude starts with awareness and the awareness of God's presence will always inspire thanks. It won't always make the pain stop or bring instant healing, but it can move us to quietly offer our thanks for His presence. We simply need to cast our eyes from the murky water to the heavens above. Relate to the Lord // Pray with us, “Thank You, Lord, for a new dawn and for all the adventures today will bring.”

October 8, 2026 // Thursday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Read the Word // Open your Bible to today’s Gospel: Luke 11:5-13   Reflect on the Word // I would lie in bed at night, agonizing, just begging the Lord to “fix it.” In my very brief first marriage, there were serious problems right from the start. I longed for the Lord to open the door of my husband’s heart to me. I pleaded, fasted, prayed endlessly, and sought counsel. Things only got worse. The pain was almost unbearable; at times I thought it would stop my heart. In the end, my husband’s heart remained closed to me. I’m certain this was at least, in part, out of his control. We divorced just one year after we were married. (Years later we were granted a declaration of nullity.) Then comes this challenging Gospel from Luke. The Lord is so clear when he says, “Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened” (Luke 11:9-10, emphasis added). He says so confidently that the Father is the giver of good gifts. How can I possibly reconcile this with my experience? What are we to make of it when a door does not open? Is God’s Word false? Maybe, some of the answer is found later in the passage. Jesus concludes this teaching by saying, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” (Luke 11:13, emphasis added) That is, the Father will always give us grace when we need it. Grace in the Sacraments, like Confession and the Holy Eucharist. Grace in prayer and friendship. The grace to weather the great strains of a broken heart and to wish my ex-husband well—even to pray for him.  I begged for a specific resolution but what the Father sent was infinitely more powerful: He sent the Holy Spirit to walk me through the darkest pain of my life. He gave the good gift of grace. And, when you need it most, He will do the same for you, sister. Relate to the Lord // Pray today with Luke 11:13–challenge the doubts about your unanswered prayers and ask for deeper trust in the Holy Spirit given to you.