The Snapshot of a Happy Moment...and All That Surrounds It!

We recently had the joy of finding out the gender of our newest grandchild! Our daughter, Sarah, and son-in-law, Mike, are expecting close to Thanksgiving, which seems like a perfectly timed arrival for a baby. Not too many things in this world flood us with feelings of thankfulness more than a new little life!

There wasn't a big party this time around. Just a beautiful (and delicious) cake baked by my daughter, Ellie, and her siblings, nieces and nephews all excitedly choosing "team boy" or "team girl". We cut the cake before dinner because Sarah and Mike didn't want to wait any longer!

It's a BOY!!!!!!

Daddy and Mama with big sister, Aurora

There was a lot of excitement over the reveal! (And some tears. Five-year-old Ambrose was very disappointed because he "chose wrong"! It was cute<3)

After dinner and cake ... did I mention it was delicious(!) ... the littles were all hyped up on sugar, so I took them all outside to enjoy the beautiful summer night and let them run off the extra energy. I sat on our comfy swing and watched the action all around me. A roaring dinosaur and two hunters were running back and forth across the yard. There was one little boy who is walking a very fine line between the twilight of his toddler years and being one of the "big boys", just enjoying his own thing, pull-up clad but pant-less.(and very cute:) Three little girls toddled around, not sure at times whether they were chasing the boys or each other before they decided that the swings and slides were more fun than the boys. 

Our littlest for the moment, Monica

The (sometimes) crazy big boys!

Our full of life, Aurora

Our sweet Claire

Our "insists he's a big boy" Charlie

I felt very reflective as I watched all of these precious little humans and thought about the blessing of another little boy being added to the cousin crew.  It's one of those moments in life where everything else fades away, and you truly know that the only thing that matters in life is family. It's a moment where all the hard fades away for a breath and the blessings of the present moment fill every available space in your heart. A moment where I lived fully without distractions.

I was living in the snapshot of a happy moment. If I had posted all the pictures in the moment on social media, it might give us the appearance of a "perfect family". But a single impromptu photo shoot can never show all the pain and struggle that surrounds that moment. Life tends to be filled with joy and struggle that don't always take turns and often overlap.

This new baby grandson is a blessing! He is also a rainbow baby. Just after the new year began, Sarah and Mike found out they were pregnant and miscarrying on the very same day. It was emotionally brutal for them to go through, and it was emotionally brutal to walk beside them and watch them go through it. 

When you've lived through painful life circumstances, it's especially difficult to see the people that you love go through something similar. I know that my life experiences give me a greater empathy towards people going through a similar loss. I know that for those that are grieving, knowing that someone has gone through something similar and made it through to the other side can be hopeful. Understanding that the grief you feel is also felt by others who have gone through a similar loss or cross can help you feel less alone, which can be consoling.

And while I hope that my life experience in suffering the loss of a child can provide that for people, I still wish that it is a story that they never needed. No one ever wants to become a member of the grieving parents club.

When the people you love most in the world become members, it creates a special kind of heartache. I want to save them from the grief, save them from the pain I know is coming that they will have to endure. But I can't. That's a "God job," and I learned a long time ago that I always fail when I try to do what only He can do.

And as much as I wanted to save and protect my daughter (And my Goddaughter who lost her son, Ben, last year) from experiencing the losses they went through, I could not. I could pray for them, reach out to them, support them in whatever practical way presented itself. But I could not save them from experiencing their personal Calvary. 

During the time my Goddaughter lost her son last year, I was in the midst of writing a book about Our Lady of Sorrows and how she reached into my life in a special way during the short life and death of our daughter, Therese. And when Sarah lost her baby earlier this year, whom she named Gabriel, I was waiting for the book to be printed.

It was a source of a lot of inner frustration for me that I have spent a literal three years on a personal story that I hope will be a source of comfort for others, and  I wasn't able to just share it with parents who I knew were suffering.  The desire to console parents who are hurting, especially mamas, is such a strong call on my heart. I just pray that my experiences and my journey will be, in some small way, a source of hope and encouragement for those carrying the cross of losing a child. Although when I began writing it three years ago, I never imagined that the grieving mamas would include the people that are closest to my heart.

My book, Journeying Through Infant Loss With Our Lady of Sorrows, written with Pauline Books and Media, has an official release date of August 21st. It's so surreal, but after years of 'mommy blogging' and 'grammy blogging,' I'm an actual author of a book! I'm sure I will have lots more to share in the coming weeks as the Marketing Crew...there's a marketing crew!!...let me know their ideas and expectations. It's been a wild and very loooong, slow journey to get to this point. But I'm excited to see what God has in store!

(But I'm even more excited to meet our new grandson in just a few short months!!)

Trusting in God, Despite a Broken Heart

 A couple of months ago, I woke up with a particular Bible verse swimming around in my mind:

"Father, I want to thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this on account of the people standing by, that they may believe that you sent me." (John 11:41-42)

The verse is from the Gospel story when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. He says those words after the stone is rolled away, but before Jesus calls Lazarus out of the tomb.

So I went back and read the whole story and, as often happens, He highlighted some new perspectives on a story I have heard or read many times before. (See John 11)

Jesus was very close to Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. John 11:5 even says, "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus."  When Lazarus fell ill, Martha and Mary sent word to Jesus. They believed in Him and saw and heard of the miracles that He did. So, of course, they reached out to Jesus. 

But Jesus didn't come right away. And while the disciples who were with Jesus knew His reason why, "This illness is not unto death; it is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified by means of it,", (vs 4), Martha and Mary did not. They were left to care for their brother, watch him die, and bury him, while dealing with the added grief that Jesus never came.

When Jesus finally arrives, Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days. (vs 17) Martha runs to meet Jesus when she hears that He is coming, but "Mary sat in the house." (vs 20) Martha and Jesus share an emotional exchange. Martha opens her deep brokenness and disappointment that Jesus wasn't there and that He could have prevented her loss. But still she believes and trusts despite her broken heart.

Then Martha goes back to the house and "called her sister Mary, saying quietly, "The Teacher is here and is calling for you. And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him."(vs 28) "Quietly" sticks out to me in that line. Gentleness, reverence, missing the harshness of Martha's earlier rebuke of Mary in Luke 10: 38-42. Martha's gentleness shows a compassionate understanding of how Mary is carrying her pain and loving Mary within her emotional struggle.

I imagine that in the time between sending their message to Jesus and Lazarus' death, they would have spoken about their hope that Jesus would come and heal their brother. After Lazarus' death, they must have grieved together and asked each other why Jesus didn't come? They had hoped in Jesus to save them from this suffering, but He never came. 

Just like when Jesus doesn't save us from our suffering in the way they had hoped He would...

At Jesus' arrival, Martha's quick reaction to run outside of town to meet Him seems to show that she carried disappointment but also a level of acceptance. 

Mary's reaction seems to show that she was struggling with feelings of abandonment. Mary needed an invitation. She needed proof that she was wanted, that she was not forgotten and abandoned in her pain.

 When Mary reaches Jesus, she falls at his feet, weeping. I can imagine her words coming out in anguish amidst her grief and tears, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."

How many times have we fallen before the Lord on our knees in our grief? In adoration, on our bedroom floor, in our showers, while we weep tears of anguish and grief and cry to Jesus;

~You weren't here! 

~You could have saved them! 

~You could have saved me!

~You could have saved all of us from this, but you didn't.

~I cried out to you over and over and over again, and You didn't come!

Jesus' reaction to Mary in her deep grief, and His reaction to us in our deep grief, is not one of reproof or anger for questioning Him. "He was greatly moved and troubled." (vs 33)  Jesus meets us with love and gentleness in our pain. Jesus does not rebuke them, or us, for any negative feelings they wrestled with towards Him. Whether we wrestle with whether God is good, or question if God really is who He says He is, or struggle with our own self-worth because Jesus didn't save us from our crosses in the way we had hoped, Jesus' response is always love and gentleness. 

Jesus is completely present with our brokenness. He sees the depth of our pain, even the parts that we try to hide from others and, at times, even ourselves. Jesus' reaction is an intimate sharing in their suffering and in our suffering.

"Jesus wept."(vs 35)

Jesus wept for the pain that Marth and Mary carried, even though He knew that He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead in mere moments. Jesus weeps with us over the pain we carry, even though He will resurrect our brokenness in His time.(see Roman's 8:28)

Jesus asks Martha and Mary,  "Where have you laid him?"(vs 34) But Jesus knew ... He always knows. Jesus is asking Martha and Mary to lead Him to their greatest place of brokenness at that moment. They don't reject Jesus or push Him away in anger, or bitterness, or resentment. Martha and Mary open their brokenness to Him and invite Jesus in with their response, "Lord, come and see." (vs 34)

Within the brokenness of our own hearts, Jesus asks us, "Where have you laid what you thought was dead?" He asks with that same gentleness and love that He asked Martha and Mary. Jesus asks our permission to enter into the darkest, messiest caves of our hearts, where we have buried our deepest hurts. He wants to roll away the stones of self-protection that we have used to try (without real success if we are honest), to protect ourselves from the pain and grief of our broken places.  

Jesus' timing is usually not what we had asked for. His arrival will not come when we expected it. But the grace and peace that He will bring to resurrect our broken places will be far beyond anything we ever expected as we whisper to Him ... come and see.

(This article first appeared on Catholicmom.com)  

Rebuilding the Broken Places

Have you ever spent much time in the book of Nehemiah? Apparently, I spent a little time reading Nehemiah last year, which I forgot all about until I flipped through some of my older journal entries. (I would forget everything if I didn't write it down!) 

Chapter 4 of Nehemiah really resonated with me. In it, the Israelites have newly returned to Jerusalem and are trying to rebuild the wall around the devastated city. The groups surrounding Jerusalem didn't want them to rebuild, planned to attack, and there is a lot of discouragement and hopelessness.

"The strength of the burden-bearers is failing, and there is much rubbish; we are not able to work on the wall." (RSV Second Catholic Edition)

I was thinking about the hearts of the Israelite exiles who had finally been allowed to return and rebuild their city and the wall that would protect them. In returning to Jerusalem, they would have had to face the physical ruins and all that they had lost. They must have been grieving for all that had been; the way that things used to be, and the people they had lost. They worked hard day by day, taking the damaged stones dug out from the rubble of their homeland and trying to make it new. 

They were literally rebuilding their lives.

Isn't that the same for us when we go through something really hard? It can feel like a part of our lives, or even our hearts, has been broken and shattered into unfixable pieces. We are grieving and hurting, and the process to work through and "rebuild" what is broken in our lives can feel overwhelming on the best days and hopeless on the worst.

The Israelites had toiled and pushed through to the point of having the wall built halfway, and that's when taunts and deceptions from the lands and rulers around them began. (see verse 6) The Israelites "prayed to God, and set a guard as a protection against them day and night."(verse 9) 

The Israelite's enemies sought to crush them, as does the evil one when he sees us making progress, working through our own wounds.  Rebuilding and healing take so much effort. It's not easy to go back to the painful moments in our lives and allow God to minister to the hurt. It's not easy to allow ourselves to hope again.  

So how did the Israelites keep moving forward when discouragement, anxiety over further destruction rose, and their hope started to waver? Well, Nehemiah set people by families in the low and open spaces in the wall, which were the weakest spaces. He gave them strength in community, reminded them who they were fighting for, and, most importantly, reminded them that the Lord and His strength were with them.

"Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, your daughters, your wives and your homes."

God protected the Israelites and thwarted the enemy's plan.

Rebuilding continued until it was complete with more watchfulness, more protection, and a readiness to defend and fight. The foundation of the Israelites' plan for rebuilding was their trust in God and their reliance on each other. 

When we are working with God to rebuild our own broken places in our lives, we also need to be aware of areas that make us susceptible to our enemy's attack. It's a little different for everyone, but some common areas of attack are our identity as beloved children of God, no matter what choices we've made or how badly we feel like we've "messed up". Falling into self-sufficiency instead of depending on God to lead and provide for us. Not being willing to be vulnerable and ask for help from a loved one, friend, spiritual director, or therapist. (Just like Nehemiah set people by families by the weak points in the wall, we need friends and family interceding for us and supporting us.)

Nehemiah encouraged the Israelites by reminding them about God's strength and that they were rebuilding for their families. We need those reminders and encouragement, too. 

The Israelites felt empowered after the encouragement. While they worked on the wall, the burden bearers worked with one hand and held a weapon in the other. The builders had a sword belted on their side. The man who held the trumpet stood beside them, ready to sound the alarm at any sight of their enemy so that everyone could come quickly and help.(see verse 17-18) Their trust had greatly increased, and they believed that "Our God will fight for us."(verse 20)

When we are encouraged by others and feel like we don't fight our battles alone, our faith in God is strengthened. We feel provided for, loved, and cared for. We need people in our lives to "blow the trumpet" when they see the enemy sowing lies into our woundedness. We need to hold "weapons" in our hands; in particular, receiving the sacraments, and using our Bibles and our Rosaries. God's truth in His Word will dispel the enemy's lies, and Mary will fight with us and keep us close to her Son. Our Guardian Angels and the Saints that we feel drawn to (because they have chosen us!) are our allies as well. We need to call on them for assistance and use the stories from their lives as inspiration. 

Working through grief and rebuilding our broken places takes courage, humility, and time. Especially time. God's efficiency isn't our efficiency. We get frustrated that we aren't healing enough, but that's because we need to give our hearts time to feel safe. Love is patient, love is kind. Jesus is that to us. We need to internalize kindness, patience, and gentleness towards ourselves and allow our hearts to go at a pace they are ready for. I don't know about you, but I'm not really good at that! My internal demands don't sound much like kindness, patience, and gentleness most of the time. I just want to get rid of the hurt ... but that process takes time.

But just as Nehemiah reminded the Israelites, I will "remember the Lord." And as God's Word promises, "My God in his steadfast love will meet me."(Psalm 59:10, RSV2CE)

His steadfast love will meet all of us!

Pic of all my grandsons from a recent family getaway:)

(This post was published first on CatholicMom)

What Happens Next?

 We all love a good Disney ending...

"...And they lived happily ever after!"

When I think of it, it fills me with a sigh of contentment. The main character has been saved from danger, love conquers all, everyone is reunited, and life is perfect. But in reality, that "perfection" only lasts a hot minute because life goes on ... and life frequently has lots of messy moments. True conversion and growth require constant effort. Flynn Rider (Tangled) had to wrestle with learning to live a life that didn't involve illegal means to survive. Elsa and Anna (Frozen) had to learn to accept and live with Elsa's gifts and grieve a past marked by isolation, fear, and loss. Moana and her family had to learn to live without fear and step into who they were meant to be all along. Those kinds of deep transformations don't come easily or quickly, even though it's nice to think they can when the movie ends, because that's SO much easier (and less painful) than reality!

One of the podcasts I listen to regularly is Poco a Poco. Throughout Lent, they focused on the Gospel of the prodigal son through the eyes of story. It's a familiar passage for many. A family made up of a father and two brothers. The younger brother asks his father for his inheritance and leaves the family, squandering everything. Reduced to working in a pigsty, he decides to go home and ask to work as a hired hand for his father. His father, ever hopeful and watchful for his return, runs to greet the wayward son and welcomes him home with a great party. The older son is resentful that his father welcomed his brother home after his brother squandered everything he was given, and refuses to enter the house. His father comes out to plead with his older son to come and celebrate his brother, who was dead and is now alive. 

But what happened after that?

Was the older son able to let go of his bitterness and resentment? Was he able to receive a new perspective and his father's love? To find healing and reconciliation with his brother? To feel secure in his own identity and connection to his father? Was he able to end the internal emotional journey that had him as lost as his younger brother ... just as far away from his father's love, even though he never left? And how long did it all take to get to a place of healing and restoration?

And what about the younger son? Was he able to accept his father's forgiveness and love? Was he able to feel secure in his identity? Was he able to let his plan/role in his family unfold and let repair happen in all of his relationships? Or did he get caught up in trying to earn love back and earn his place back in his family? Did he try to earn acceptance after it was freely given by his father because he struggled to forgive himself?

We don't know the rest of the story. And maybe that's because we are supposed to find ourselves in that story and ponder what ending we hope for.  

We've spent the 40 days of Lent entering the desert of our hearts. Our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving have been meant to show us the places within us where we have wandered away from God and become attached to worldly things, and/or where our hearts have become hardened through bitterness or resentment, leading to an inability to receive the Father's love. Hopefully, this time has been enlightening for us! It's always difficult- (and humbling!)-to see the areas that need work in our inner world!

So what's next for us?

I think that, like the brothers in the Prodigal Son, we have some choices to make and work to do. What we give up for Lent is usually something we have a strong attachment to, and if we are completely honest with ourselves, we have a disordered attachment to it at some level. The concepts of forgiving myself and receiving the Father's love without striving or trying to earn it are things I wrestle with all.the.time.

While talking about the younger brother on the Poco a Poco podcast this Lent, Fr. Innocent said that "the son is going to need to get up every day and fight for the mercy to accept his father's love. We need grace because the 'shame hangover' is real."

The younger son has to choose to stay in the father's gaze and believe who his father says he is because the enemy will be attacking the unhealed wound as he processes his mistakes, his bad choices, and how he has hurt himself and others. That's not just an issue for the younger son in the story. That's a huge stumbling block for all of us. The enemy doesn't give us a "pass" to work through our brokenness! When the enemy sees a way to hurt us and keep us focusing on our own misery instead of on God's mercy, he attacks. 

We have to choose to not be frozen, looking inward, trapped by our feelings of shame and guilt. As hard as it is in those moments, we need to continually lean into God and bring our brokenness to Him. We need God to remind us over and over again who we are to Him, and allow His healing graces to transform our hearts and minds. 

Throughout the Easter Season, I hope we can soak up all the available grace and continue our journey that we started in Lent. "Happily Ever After" might only be for Heaven, but we can continue the path God started us on way back on Ash Wednesday. Easter wasn't the finish line. We can continue relying on His mercy and His plan for us.

A pic of all the grandbabies on Easter

A Little (Much Needed!) Winter Inspiration

I am not a lover of winter, and this winter season has given me extra reminders of why I'm not a fan. Last week, I sat on my couch as snow just continued to fall and fall and fall. On one hand, it was awe-inspiring to see the effects that one blizzard can have. On the other hand, it was very overwhelming and left me feeling trapped with no control. 

So as I sat on the couch, I pulled up pictures on my phone from last summer, remembering warmer days and reminding myself that winter doesn't last forever. (Even when it truly feels like it might never leave!) There were lots of pictures of backyard pool time fun with the grandbabies. Fun photo memories of our trip to Maine. Beach pictures, outdoor birthday celebrations, and pictures that remind me how fast babies change in just six months.

Then there were pictures that I took during a local harbor cruise. Among the beautiful sunset pics and the laughter of friends were images I had forgotten all about. As we travelled around the harbor that day, listening to lots of fun, historical facts, I was inspired by some of the names of the fishing boats.

Who would have guessed that those pictures would be such an encouragement all these months later, giving me reminders that God is everywhere ... all the time! Even on a harbor cruise and in a blizzard!

Google says that "in a Catholic context, the phrase, 'God is my vindicator', means trusting that God, as a righteous and just Judge, will ultimately defend your reputation, clear your name from false accusations, and bring justice to situations where you have been wronged." Seeing this boat reminds me that God is in charge of all circumstances and outcomes. He is the one who fights for me and saves me. And since one of the lies I fall into much too frequently is "It all depends on me," the reminder that I'm not the one in charge and that I don't have to figure everything out on my own is important. 

The Oxford Dictionary defines diligence as "careful and persistent work or effort". Diligence is a great word that goes along with adulting. I want to have diligence in my marriage, my motherhood, the way I keep our home, and our finances. 

You can find the word 'diligent' a few times in the book of proverbs. My favorite verse is Proverbs 13:4, 

"The soul of the sluggard craves, and gets nothing, while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied."

Isn't sluggard such a great sounding word?!? It's not something I want to be ... I want to be the "soul of the diligent" and be "richly supplied"! But, like Buddy the Elf says, "That's fun to say!"

 

Who doesn't want more wisdom?? There are lots of good verses on 'wisdom' in the Bible. One of my favorites is James 1:5.

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives to all men generously and without reproaching, and it will be given him."

I'm always lacking and always asking! Please and thank you, God, for your kindness and generosity!

This is just a cool sunset pic that I took:)

Ah...endurance! Something I need so much of in this crazy life. Endurance to get through the day, endurance to parent through difficult situations, endurance in the crosses of life. I need endurance by the bucketloads! 

This last one is my favorite: Fearless. It's not the prettiest boat, but I think that tells the story of the word even better! Being fearless often means getting messy, being stretched beyond our comfort zones, and trusting that God will provide for us along whatever road (or ocean!) that He asks us to journey on. 

I am not fearless. I am more what you would call fear-filled. But God is working on me.:) And since some form of "Fear not" or "Do not be afraid" appears 365 different times in the Bible, I don't think I'm alone in my struggle!

I just need to have a few of those 365 verses on a sticky note hanging on my mirror, in my Bible, or anywhere prominent so that when the fear comes, I can focus on God's words instead of the heightened anxiety starting to twist and grow deep inside of me. Words like:

"For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I will help you."

And so ends my little tour down memory lane. :) Wishing you warmer weather, an early spring, and that God provides all the inspiring words you need!

No Resolutions Required!

In complete transparency, I heard almost none of the homily at the Mass for the Solemnity of the Mother of God. (Sorry, Fr. Ryan!) Our pastor began his homily on New Year's Day by highlighting the fact that the first reading of the Mass was all about a blessing:

"...The Lord bless you and keep you! The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you! The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace! So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites, and I will bless them." Numbers 6:24-27

And after his initial words, I didn't really hear anything else. My mind just latched onto this thought:

"The Church is beginning this new year with a blessing ... not a self improvement to-do list."

And that's all I could ponder.

Maybe I've done New Year's wrong for the majority of my life!?! 

Most years, I have a whole list of ideas of how I want my new year to look like and the things I have to do to achieve those goals. Midnight on New Year's Eve has been like the gunshot at the starting line of a race - hurry, go, don't look back, and try your hardest not to fail! After an advent season and Christmas octave full of not only memories, traditions, friends and family, but also overindulgence, sensory overwhelm, and no semblance of routine, the thought of a reset with clear goals and objectives is often welcome. But I often try to overcorrect! Instead of just embracing a reentry into a more normal life rhythm, my pendulum swings from overwhelmed and overindulged to some kind personal reset boot camp that is in no way sustainable, (or often even reasonable!).

Taking a Necessary Pause

In regards to New Year's goals and resolutions, an important question to consider is where our motivation to make and achieve these goals is coming from. Did we even give ourselves a little time to pray and ask God what He wants our focus to be as we start a new year? Did we take a little time to reflect over the journey God has led us on over the last year? Where were our greatest joys, where were our greatest sorrows and where were the blessings that God brought out of all circumstances? Where are the areas that we noticed growth? Have we experienced more awareness, patience, or peace in situations or with people that we have previously struggled with?  Did God bring healing to any area of brokenness in our lives? What were the things that God showed us through prayer that left us pondering and led to spiritual growth?

Most years, I don't consider any of those questions. My mind is already running into the new year before I've made peace with the old. I already know I need to be better, and out of my insecurities and inadequacies I am picking areas that I can strive harder and hopefully make some gains. I've often tried to force growth under my own strength and my own will power. But that just leads to burnout and abandoned resolutions.

We Are SO Good at Falling Into the Trap of Self Sufficiency. 

We need to pause our own thoughts on what we think we should focus on and instead ask that question of God? We will only know if we ask and then quiet ourselves on the inside and wait to hear His answer. Very often His answer is very different from what we think we should be doing. It's not always about speeding up and adding more. Sometimes it's about slowing down to the speed of the Holy Spirit. It's about waiting for His whisper, waiting for His invitation to take a step. It's about going deeper, leaning in, and drawing nearer.

Sometimes it's not about adding anything new at all and just about continuing on the journey we've been on. 

Here's the Good News!

Just because it's no longer New Year's Day doesn't mean we've blown it! With almost all of 2026 still before us, we have plenty of opportunity to course correct. Thankfully, God's Word says that His mercies are "new every morning", not just on January 1st! (see Lamentations 3:23)

So today, regardless of the date on the calendar, carve out a few minutes to ask God where your focus for this new year should be. Don't try to figure it out on your own, or try to convince God that your ideas are the best way to go. Ask and then wait. Maybe your answer comes immediately and maybe it doesn't. Allow God to unfold the answer in your heart in His timing. 

Welcome to 2026. I pray that this year is filled with grace and blessings for all of us! 

(No resolutions required!)

Go Pats!;)

gospel reflection 1/15/26

"A leper came to him [and kneeling down] begged him and said, "If you wish, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, "I do will it. Be made clean." The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean. Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once. Then he said to him, "See that you tell no one anything, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed; that will be proof for them." The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter. He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere."

-Mark 1:40-45

This is one of my favorite Gospel stories. I can just feel the discouragement and the desperation in the leper's voice as he approaches Jesus and falls to his knees. This man has suffered under the cross of his illness that has stripped him of any other identity other than leper; an illness that has sentenced him to a life of exile from his family and from his community. He has lost everything except for his constant companions of pain and loneliness.

There are times in my life that I have felt stripped of any identity other than the pain of the brokenness that I have carried. When all of the darkness in my heart has created the feeling of emotional exile from even those closest to me. It's at those times of deep heartache that the posture of my heart mimics that of the leper in this Gospel. I see myself falling to my knees in front of Jesus, my self sufficiency utterly spent and my heart completely opened and surrendered to Him. In humility, I utter words begging Jesus similar to the leper. "If you wish....you can heal my heart." "If you wish ... you can heal my family." "If you wish ... you can take this cross from me."

I always long to hear Jesus speak the same words he said to the leper, "I do will it." Sometimes Jesus' answer to my prayers filled with deep longing are answered quickly with the outcome I had hoped for. But even when His answer to me is "not yet", a prayerful interaction with Jesus brings the Grace to continue hoping and waiting on His timing. 

Is there something in your own life that makes you feel like the leper in this Gospel passage? Are you ready to kneel before Jesus and ask Him for relief from the burden you are carrying?

Jesus, please give us the grace to lay our hearts before you. Please hear and tend to our deepest longings and heaviest burdens to give us the peace beyond all understanding. Thank you for your merciful love. Amen.