“We are Easter people – anchored in the truth that love is stronger than death.”
The passage this morning quotes Pope St. John Paul II, Easter Vigil Homily, 1986 –
“Christ is risen and with Him comes hope, joy and a future full of life and promise”
I can’t seem to find the words to truly express my feelings today.
Mass this morning was beautiful. It was full of light and hope and was filled to the walls with a worshiping and joyful congregation.
There was laughter and a sense of community.
It was joyful and I left with a feeling of peace and gratitude.
Yet, as I write this I also feel quiet inside.
I feel humbled…
I feel peaceful…
I feel blessed…
And I feel God’s love.
I wish you and your family a beautiful Easter Sunday. May God’s love fill your hearts and inspire you to “live in the light of the risen Christ”.
Alleluia! Risen Lord, we celebrate Your victory over darkness today. Thank You for the gift of new life and the joy that never ends. Fill our hearts with Your light and let our lives reflect Your glorious hope. Amen!
Growing up, Holy Saturday was a very special day. Some of my earliest memories were going to my grandparents’ house on Holy Saturday for the food blessing.
Every year, my grandmother created and wrapped beautiful Easter baskets for each of us. They were filled with toys, chocolates, and all the Easter fun you could imagine.
But…in addition to those, it’s Polish tradition to create baskets filled with foods to be blessed and eaten on Easter Sunday.
Traditional Polish Easter Basket items included:
Butter – often shaped like a lamb or a cross representing the “Lamb of God”
Easter Bread (Babka) – Representing the “Bread of Life”
Horseradish – Represents the Passion of Christ and the bitterness of His suffering.
Decorated Eggs – New life & Christ’s resurrection
Sausage (Kielbasa) – God’s favor, generosity and the end of fasting.
Ham – Joy and Abundance
Salt – Represents purification, prosperity and a reminder to be the “salt of the earth”
Cheese – Moderation in all things
Candle – Light of the world
Colorful ribbons and sprigs of greenery to decorate the basket as symbols of new life and joy in the season of spring
So, part of the tradition was filling our own baskets to take to church with my grandmother for the blessing.
Mind you, many times the blessing was in Polish, so we didn’t always understand what was being said, but in some way…we knew. And we knew being there, with my grandmother, is what made the moment special.
It was a beautiful tradition and when my children were young we still drove an hour each way to go to my grandma’s house on Holy Saturday.
I miss my grandparents dearly, and I miss that tradition. Truth is, we tried to carry it on for a while after she passed but it never was quite the same.
I got off track there for a bit…
Today’s passage reminds us that Holy Saturday is “a day of waiting. No miracles. No appearances. Just silence and the aching stillness of loss”.
This year…Holy Saturday for me is about more than just getting ready for Easter Sunday. It’s about the mystery of the Resurrection. It’s about “offering grief and holding onto hope”.
So…we wait.
Today, not only will I recall the traditions of my childhood, I’ll simply “rest in the truth that God is still moving – even when unseen.”
“Lord Jesus, in this quiet stillness, we wait with you. Replace our doubt with trust in your promise as we look with hope toward the dawn of your resurrection. Amen.”
”Good Friday is the still point of history – when love and suffering meet on the Cross.”
So what are your plans for today?
As a child, I remember my mom going to Adoration on Holy Thursday and we were part of the living stations of the cross on Good Friday.
Sadly, in my adult life, Holy Thursday and Good Friday were sometimes glossed over.
They were days we used to run around and prepare for Easter Sunday.
But this year, I think because of this writing project, I’m humbled.
The three day mystery of the Triduum is at the forefront of my reflection.
I deeply appreciate and acknowledge that we only celebrate Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday because of Holy Thursday and Good Friday.
It’s a time when love and suffering…two words that we typically wouldn’t use together become our focus.
Today, we Honor those words. We remember His love and His suffering…for us.
So…I’m overwhelmed…I’m in awe…I’m humbled…I’m filled with gratitude…
And, I’m also sorrowful…
The thought of the agony Christ endured for us is really too much to comprehend.
The violence, the anger, the torture, the humiliation, the ultimate sacrifice.
I don’t have words powerful enough to describe my reflection of the events of this day.
What He endured for me…and for you.
For each and every one of us.
I pray we take some time today to reflect. To remember and to Honor.
To take up our own cross and respond with total love.
The passage today says “the mystery of Good Friday is not one of despair, but of love willing to descend into death for the sake of our redemption”.
So today, let’s kneel before the crucified Christ and feel…
really feel, the outpouring of His love.
“We are invited to stay close, to weep, to wonder and to let ourselves be transformed.”
“Crucified Lord, pierce my heart with your love, that I may never grow numb to Your mercy. Amen.”
PS – I saw a beautiful prayer on social media today that I’d like to share with you:
Today, do not forget to say these words to Jesus:
Dear Lord, on this Good Friday, I thank You for carrying the cross that I could not bear. By Your stripes, I am healed. By Your love, I am forgiven. By Your sacrifice, I am redeemed. By Your grace, I am saved. By Your victory, I no longer fear death. By Your resurrection, I can face tomorrow. By Your Word, I find the way. By Your promise, my heart is filled with hope. May all glory be to You – my Savior, my King! Amen.
“Today we are invited to partake – not as spectators but as beloved friends.”
We reflect on the night Jesus was betrayed and the gift he gave us. The most precious gift…his living body and blood poured out in love.
Sometimes we forget that through the Eucharist He becomes one with us. He nourishes our souls in ways that nothing else can.
It’s a time to remember his sacrifice and marvel at his love.
I grew up attending mass weekly. Without fail. My mom was the cantor at 10:30 mass each week and even if we had friends sleep over on Saturday nights, come Sunday morning…we all got up and went to mass.
No questions, no excuses. We all went to church.
I went through a period of many years in my life when attending mass was on the back burner.
We were raising a young family. Days and weekends seemed to blur together as we juggled travel sports, activities, and a thousand other responsibilities that consumed our time.
I look back on those days now and I wonder how we managed it all.
And what I now realize is…we didn’t do it alone.
Admittedly, time spent in church was scarce and felt pretty much impossible…
And I carried guilt for a long time that I didn’t manage to instill that same dedication of faith I was raised with into my own young family.
Don’t get me wrong, I prayed regularly, my kids went to CCD and received all of their sacraments and I always taught them to act with kindness and love, but faith was more in the background of our lives rather than front and center.
And yet, somehow, someway, day in and day out, we managed to get everyone exactly where they needed to be, doing exactly what they needed to do.
So I think that was God.
God was with still with me, holding my life together, walking along side me and patiently waiting for me to return.
To Return!
I just had a lightbulb moment as I typed those words…
…waiting for me to Return.
This Lenten season, on Hallow Pray 40, the theme was ‘The Return’.
If you read my Introduction post at the beginning of this Lenten project, you know I prayed for God to lead me. To help me find the words to write about His presence in my life this Lent…and just now, he once again proved was listening.
I have not, even once, used the word Return throughout this blog series.
Yet, here I am, in the early morning hours of Holy Thursday seeing that word spill out onto my screen.
That…is…God.
I have no doubt He sent me that word.
He’s with me now and He’s been with me all along.
Over the past few years, attending weekly mass has been a constant. It’s become the focus of my week and receiving the Eucharist is now what helps ground me.
So what I’ve learned from these writings, is that even though Lent is coming to a close, my journey, my Return to God, and my faith is just beginning.
Dear Jesus, quiet my heart and teach me to love with humility and grace. Help me remember Your sacrifice and trust Your love more deeply today. Amen.
“No trial is so bitter as being betrayed by a friend.” St. Bernard of Clairvaux
In today’s passage we are reminded of Judas’ betrayal. Can we even imagine the sorrow in Jesus’ heart?
Not only was he facing his coming death but it would begin at the hands of one of his closest friends. Someone with whom he broke bread and prayed. Someone he loved.
Can you relate?
Have you ever been betrayed by a friend?
We know how much it hurts. It cuts deep. It’s not easy to forgive or get over.
So can we even imagine what Jesus was going through?
Today’s passage asks us to reflect on not just Judas’ betrayal, but the ways in which we betray Jesus.
Are our choices in union with His plan for us?
Do our actions reflect His mercy?
Or do they lead us away from Him?
I think through our seemingly insignificant compromises…
We do betray Him. And we betray His love.
This Holy Week…I pray for discernment. I pray for clarity in those moments of my day so I may respond in ways that will deepen my faith and lessen my failings.
”Jesus, forgive my every betrayal, hidden or known, and help me stay faithful in love. Amen.”
I’m finding it a bit more difficult to find the words to express my thoughts today.
I’m not proud to admit it, but as much as I tried to honor Holy Week in years past, they ultimately became just dates on the calendar.
It seemingly meant we were in the home stretch. We were just days away from the Resurrection and celebration of Easter and yet the focus was somewhat simply about the end of our time of ‘sacrifice’.
Whatever it was we ‘gave up’ was within reach of enjoying once again.
Holy Week meant the end of Lent rather than the beginning of His story.
As I mentioned in my first post of this blog series, I realize now, I made the Lenten experience too much about MY sacrifice and not enough about HIS.
This year, I have to say…it feels different.
I feel His presence and I feel His sacrifice.
I feel drawn to Jesus.
And I’m thankful.
The passage today says that “Holy Week invites us to walk with Jesus in costly love: love that risks, that sacrifices, that endures”.
How will we respond?
Lord, as we enter this Holy Week, may we walk the path to the cross with humble hearts. Thank you for the ultimate sacrifice of Your Son, Jesus, and for the grace that flows from His love. Guide our steps, renew our faith, and fill us with the peace that only You can provide. Amen.
Listening to the Passion of Christ in church this Palm Sunday touched my heart a bit differently this year.
I felt it more deeply. I found myself holding back tears. Speaking the words of the crowd felt painful.
I was immersed in the scenes and the depths sorrow.
I felt His sacrifice.
He died for me.
He died for you.
We are challenged to “follow Christ all the way – not just when it’s easy”.
The passage today reminds us that Lent draws us to a love that keeps going when the crowd turns quiet, when palms are replaced by thorns. For our hearts remain with Him not only in praise, but in surrender.
Today, as we begin Holy Week, I pray for all of us to have the courage to follow with love, no matter how costly. Amen.
What is happening in our world today? We seem more scattered than ever and today’s passage speaks directly to that fact.
I’ll be honest, I truly believed that COVID would be a turning point. I felt as though God put the world in a giant ‘time-out’.
I can almost hear Him speaking the same way we would speak to our own kids…”Well…since you can’t seem to get along, I’m going to separate you all for a while so you can think about it”.
The separation followed.
The isolation followed.
The detachment from friends and family was painful and sad.
We began to fear contact. We feared each other.
Shaking hands and giving hugs was pretty much forbidden.
A simple “How are you?” became a loaded question and even eye contact was avoided.
We craved socialization and clung to the hope of returning to ‘normal’.
Yet…here we are, more divided than ever. How quickly we’ve forgotten how much we needed each other during those times.
In truth, I really believed when it was over, we would be better. We’d be more patient with each other, more accepting, and would offer a bit more kindness recalling how difficult it was to be apart.
But, it seems as though the opposite occurred.
Rather than celebrating a return to humanity and interaction, and appreciating the chance to socialize and be together again, the world seems to have been turned on it’s head.
We’ve become angry, hateful, and more divided than ever. We’re less patient, less tolerant, and less willing to lend a hand.
And it’s heartbreaking.
So, I’ll ask again…How did we get here?
How do we think God feels about all of this?
We, his children are behaving…well…like children.
And I think our behavior breaks his loving heart over and over again.
So how can we heal? What will it take for us to own up to our part in this mess? When will be begin to extend some mercy and forgiveness?
Today’s passage says to ask Christ to gather our hearts and to make us agents of unity in a world that’s been pulled apart.
It reminds us that “Christ is the end of all separation – separation between God and man, and separation between each other”.
Can we look at our lives this Lent and acknowledge where we are scattered?
Are we willing?
I pray for the strength to follow God’s lead and to lean on Him for guidance and peace and an “end of all separation.”
Will you join me?
Jesus, gather my scattered heart. Make me one with You and make me an instrument of Your peace. Amen.
“Lent invites us to shift focus from the visible to the eternal.”
Do you believe?
I’ve been asked on occasion if I really, truly believe in heaven.
Without hesitation, time and time again…
I reply Yes!
I believe. I believe whole heartedly that there’s ‘more’ than what we see and have here.
Yet, sometimes in those moments of confrontation, despite my faith, the words to offer reassurance evade me.
I mean, how can anyone really, explain the depth of their belief?
So, I try to give examples. I try to recall signs from my life to prove God is real.
I share moments of experiences that cannot be explained by anything other than faith in God.
I believe. I just do. I just know.
Many times I wish I was able to eloquently recite scripture. To quiet the doubt in someone’s heart.
My father passed away when I was 37. He was only 64. His passing left an ache deep in my heart that never goes away. What I wouldn’t do to hear his voice, his laugh or to hug him just one more time.
And I’ll never understand why God called him home so soon. Or why we were forced to experience the depth of such pain and grief.
My Dad was faithful, kind, loving, generous, loyal, honorable and true. He was strong and he was devoted. He loved with his whole heart. And he had a true gift of making someone feel as though they were the most important person in the world. When you spoke with him…he was present, he was listening, and he truly cared.
Anyone who knew him would tell you the same thing.
So, I refuse to believe that someone who brought that kind of love and light to this world, someone who lived with unwaivering faith and built such a beautiful life could simply cease to exist.
His time here with us was short, but he sends each of us signs that he is still with us. Signs that hold us up and hold us together.
With them, I have no doubt, that he lives on in eternity in the presence of our Heavenly Father who he loved so dearly.
I know, and I believe with all of my heart, that I will see my Dad again one day.
So…I think maybe that’s part of the reason why…
Why I believe so deeply…
Because of my Dad.
Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of my father and the love he shared with our family. I pray You strengthen our faith and deepen our trust in You as we move through our lives remembering and honoring his legacy. Amen.
This one is difficult to grasp I think because logic can stands in the way of faith.
We are taught God sent His only son, Jesus, who suffered and died for our sins, who redeems us.
Yet at the same time we are taught that Jesus is God.
I’ll be honest in saying I always struggled with understanding this.
How can he be both?
Today’s passage says “Lent isn’t just about following Jesus the teacher – it’s about bowing before Jesus the Lord.”
Truth is, I’ve always felt humbled when kneeling before the cross, gazing at His suffering.
Aching while thinking about the unimaginable pain He endured for me and you.
Wondering how any man could accept such agony for the sake of others.
Today’s passage answers…
Because I AM. Because He is God, He is Lord, And our peace is in His wounds.
He forgives with endless love and mercy.
And His love never fails.
That is not man…that can only be God.
His perfect love, His perfect sacrifice, His perfect mercy…
So, maybe even if it’s without understanding, we just believe…
Jesus is Lord. True God from True God.
Lord Jesus, I adore You in Your eternal divinity, one in Being with the Father. Thank you for taking on my humanity. You are our Lord and Savior. Amen.
Today’s passage talks about “fire-tested faith”. It reminds us that Lent is not about comfort, it’s about conviction.
Do we still trust God when things are not going our way?
Are we willing to face the bad with the good?
Are we still thankful? And do we remember the blessings in our life or do we let our suffering overshadow them?
I’m struggling with this one a bit today.
How do we respond when we feel tested?
I think it’s easy to be thankful when life is in harmony with our expectations but when we face challenges and set backs…well…
The last few lines of today’s passage create a powerful image…
“Are you still trusting God when your fire isn’t put out? Stand firm. You are not alone in the furnace.”
Heavenly Father, in the heat of our trials, when the flames feel too high, let my faith not be broken. Give me the endurance to stand firm and trust in Your presence. Amen.
This passage makes me think again about my natural inclination to want to fix everything.
Especially when it comes to my family. I want everyone happy. I want to be perfect for each of them and provide exactly what they need, exactly when they need it.
And when I can’t…I worry.
I worry about their happiness and their future. I worry if I’m doing “enough”. I worry about their challenges and their sufferings.
As a mom…it seems nearly impossible not to worry.
So what do we do when we feel helpless and feel that no matter how hard we try…
We can’t “fix it”.
The passage today says…”to look often at the crucified Christ and receive trust. Our peace is in his wounds. Trust what he endured for you.”
So today I pray for trust. I pray for the humility to trust in His plan and His protection.
Dear Lord, I place my worries at the foot of the cross, “not with answers but with trust”. Amen.
Today’s passage reminds us that Lent is a season of hidden transformation, with grace working in quiet, unseen ways.
I’ve spent a lot of time this Lent reflecting on my faith journey.
I’ve experienced moments of quiet, moments of chaos, moments of peace and moments of clarity. Some were filled with happiness and light and others with confusion and even sadness.
But through it all, I’ve grown to appreciate that each of those moments are what mold us.
Those tiny, seemingly insignificant, minutes in our day band together and become opportunities for growth. They become chances to take action, to repent, to make a change, to extend kindness, to pray.
The beauty in today’s message is the parable of the tiny mustard seed. Our small efforts prepare the soil of our heart and it’s there that God grows greatness within us.
One of my favorite quotes is from Audrey Hepburn, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow”.
Merciful Father, cultivate grace and humility within us. May our expanding faith bloom to reflect Your greatness while our hearts root deeply in Your love. Amen.
What spoke to me the most today was the prayer at the end of this passage…
“Lord, strengthen me to pray with trust, even when I see no fruit.”
Pray with trust. Blind faith. With patience.
That’s not always easy to do.
The passage today reminds us that when we find ourselves in places where we must “wait and hope, even in sorrow, our prayers matter…even when answers seem delayed.”
I think if we look back at certain times in our lives we can see that our prayers were answered.
It may not have been within our desired timeline and sometimes it wasn’t even the response we expected, but…
God was there.
And he was at work.
I’d like to share one of those times with you.
My husband and I struggled with fertility issues. I had endometriosis and a bicornuate uterus. Although it was possible to conceive, it was extremely difficult.
Month after month we prayed, and I feared I would never be a Mom.
A little background about me, I never longed for a “career”.
All I ever dreamed of, was to be a wife and a mom. I saw myself in that picture. I lived for that picture. I wanted to get married young and have 4 kids. I had it all planned out and I dreamed of a very traditional family life.
Hubby would work and I would stay-at-home to take care of the kids and help raise our family.
I prayed for it daily and I couldn’t imagine life any other way.
So, after being blessed with meeting and marrying the love of my life, my heart was full. My prayers were being answered, my dreams were within reach.
If only it had been that easy…
After a couple of years, we decided we were ready to start a family.
Great! Let’s do this!
But…apparently, God thought otherwise.
Tears, frustration, confusion and comparison followed. It seemed so easy for everyone else, but for us…nothing but disappointment and heartbreak.
During that time, testing discovered my bicornuate uterus, coupled with endometriosis. After enduring surgery and few months of healing we were able to try yet again.
And we were hopeful.
It was still several more months later but then…it happened!
Praise God!
I learned I was finally pregnant.
My prayers of “Please let it happen for us Lord”, became “Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!”
We were elated. We started planning. We were choosing the room in our home for the nursery.
Life…was…perfect.
But then, after a year and a half of trying, when I was just over 10 weeks into my pregnancy…I miscarried.
I can remember being in mass that morning and suddenly, feeling weak and lightheaded, I had to sit down. I remember the panic washing over me as I looked up at my husband and said, “something’s wrong”.
A trip to the doctor the next morning confirmed our worst fear… no more heartbeat.
To say we were shattered is an understatement.
The sadness and prayers of ‘why’ were endless.
I felt like I was suffocating.
So, I did the only thing I could do…I prayed.
I cried a lot… but I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.
I knew my dream of having a family was completely in God’s hands.
It was another very long, very stressful, year and a half before I finally conceived again.
And my prayers this time were desperate.
I was overwhelmed with gratitude, but I was terrified.
“Please Lord, Let this baby be ok. Please be with us. Please protect our child. Please help us.”
And…all glory to God…He did.
The gift of our lives was the day our first daughter was born. The gratitude and love I felt for that tiny miracle still overwhelms me to this day.
Truth is, I’ll never understand why it was so hard for us. Each of our 3 children was difficult to conceive. And I truly believe God called our unborn angel home that morning during mass.
But despite my heartbreak and suffering, I look back at what followed, and I’m thankful.
I’m thankful for the family my husband and I were blessed to raise, and I’m thankful, through the grace of God, that our prayers were answered…not in our time, but in His.
His plan, His timing, as always…was perfect.
Each of those babies I so desperately prayed for and held in my arms are grown now.
So today, I pray God gives me the strength to continue to trust Him. To trust that He is guiding their lives and their journey so that they too will grow in their faith in Him.
From the passage today, “God hears the cries of the faithful – and he responds, in time”.
“Lord, strengthen me to continue to pray with trust, even when I see no fruit.” Amen.
“Her tears were not wasted – they became a wellspring of grace.”
Today we are at the foot of the Cross. “We lift our eyes not to mourn, but to adore.”
I never really looked at it that way. When I see the image of Christ on the cross my heart breaks. I think of his sacrifice, his pain, his anguish, His death…for us.
Christ died for us.
He died for me.
He died for you.
I’ll admit, quite often that doesn’t make me feel good…it makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel sad.
But today’s passage offers a different perspective… a beautiful one.
St. Andrew of Crete call the cross Christ’s throne, because it’s where love reigns.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life – John 3:16
The cross should be our reminder.
Our reminder that Christ lifted up, draws us near – not by force, but by love.
So how can we emulate that today?
How can we draw near?
How can we see God in our family, friends, and all who He has placed in our lives?
Draw near, rest in the cross, and adore our Blessed Savior.
This Lent, as I gaze at the cross, may I remember that “it is not a tragedy – it’s a triumph of mercy”.
Jesus, draw me to your cross and into the depths of Your grace today. In the shadow of your love let my heart find its rest. Amen.
When I think of suffering, I tend to think of the ‘big stuff’…disease, abuse, trauma, losing a loved one.
But I think there’s suffering in the little experiences of day-to-day life too.
It exists in a difficult conversation, an argument, a misunderstanding. A delay in our schedule or plans. A heartbreak.
All of those trials are the crosses we bear.
The passage reminds us “Jesus knew what was coming, but he walked toward it with peace.”
How many of us could say the same?
If we knew, for certain, what was ahead for us, would we be able to walk toward it with peace?
Truth be told, I think if we knew something difficult was just around the corner, we would likely pivot on our heels and run in the opposite direction. Do whatever we could to avoid or delay anguish, pain, failure.
The passage today tells us, though, that suffering is not a sign of failure.
Suffering in Christ is never wasted.
In whatever hardship we are walking through right now…God is working.
Honestly, I think that’s where I struggle a bit. Because, I believe God is with me, I believe He is with each of us. And I think these writings have shown me even more just how present He is in my life.
Yet when I experience hardships, I’m right back to where I started. I still question Him, I still doubt, I still want to understand ‘why’.
And then…I do what I think many of us do…I start to compare.
Maybe it’s those times, those moments, when I unwittingly compare my cross with someone else’s… that’s when I fail.
Not in the suffering, I fail because I start to turn away from God rather than walk toward Him.
Let’s face it…No one wants to experience suffering but when we do…
I think God just wants us to remember that even then— even now— even when bad stuff happens, He is with us. And He is weaving every single thread of our experiences, big and small, good and bad, into a miraculous tapestry.
Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
Dear Lord, I surrender my worries to You. Guide me in every decision, and help me to see Your hand at work in every moment. Fill me with Your peace, courage, and endurance to face whatever comes. Amen.
“Do not delay your conversion by clinging to pride”. – St. Jerome
We’ve talked about pride in several other posts this Lent and here we are again. Learning yet another way that our pride affects our relationship with God.
Pride delays conversion.
Psalm 95:7-8 – If today you hear his voice, harden not your heart.
So, where in your life today may you be hearing God’s voice?
What might you gain by listening?
And what might we miss by ignoring it?
If I’m being honest with myself, I suppose I hear his voice every single day in one way or another. But I just now realized…I harden my heart.
I wait for a ‘better time’ to think about it (whatever it may be at the time), or to make a change or take steps.
I rely on myself, or things in my life, to get me through the challenges of my day rather than stopping, even for a moment, to acknowledge those feelings and God’s presence.
Today’s passage teaches that when God’s voice touches something inside of us, our hearts often resist, especially if it touches something uncomfortable.
So after reading this I wonder…
Each time those moments arise and we feel that discomfort, is that’s God’s voice?
Is that Him calling out to us? Wanting us to pause?
Maybe, in those moments, He’s asking us to turn to him…to remember Him, to rely on Him.
And maybe we avoid those feelings because of our own pride?
But, here’s what I think…
I think we don’t have to hide the things that call each of us away from Him.
He already knows.
His voice isn’t judging. It’s to remind us that He sees us, every part of us…
And He loves us anyway.
He will guide us through whatever might be holding us back.
So today, rather than waiting for a ‘better time’…or delaying our own conversion, what if we crack open our hearts and let His mercy flow in?
My prayer today comes straight from the passage:
Lord, give me a soft heart today – ready to listen, ready to turn, ready to be changed. Amen.
I’ve always struggled with the story of Lazarus, and understanding Jesus’ decision to stay away. To wait two weeks before going to Martha and Mary.
A very dear friend once said to me. “If you called and said you needed me, I’d be on my way within minutes. But He waited 2 weeks? Why? Just so he could make it about him. Just so he could show off what he could do. Sounds like a narcissist.”
Those words cut me so deeply.
And I knew it wasn’t true.
Yet, at the time, I couldn’t quite find the words to refute her, because I couldn’t understand why Jesus would wait.
What was the real lesson and message?
Why didn’t he go right away?
Why didn’t he save Lazarus, even though he knew he could?
I was certain it wasn’t just about glorifying himself, but I still couldn’t grasp the ‘why’.
Today’s passage made me think about that conversation and the story of Lazarus all over again.
The passage revealed a few things, “Jesus enters our grief – not to fix it immediately, but to feel it with us. He draws near in tears, in silence, in presence.”
John 11:35 ”Jesus wept”.
So maybe the story wasn’t just about what Jesus could or could not do for Lazarus.
Maybe, like being a parent, even though we could prevent a difficulty or solve a problem for our child, we need to let them learn and grow from their experiences.
I think we can all agree, when it comes to our children, young or adult, there are times we can see a freight train coming from a mile away. And we want to jump in and divert the tracks to spare our child.
But sometimes, in order to help guide them, we need to step aside and let them spot the warning lights on their own.
It doesn’t mean we don’t care about their struggles…it doesn’t mean we want to see a collision just so we can step in, pick up the pieces, and save the day afterwards.
I think, as painful and hard as it may be for us, it means we love them enough to let them stumble.
We love them enough to let them live and learn…
And hopefully to help them grow closer to God along the way.
So maybe, that’s what was happening with Lazarus.
Jesus could have intervened and prevented his death, we all know it, but maybe there’s more to it than that.
Maybe it was about sharing His love for them. About feeling what they felt.
Maybe the lesson is that even in our deepest sorrows, Jesus is there and he loves us enough to let us fall.
I certainly don’t understand God’s plan, or his timing. Nor will I claim to understand the “why” in each of our sad experiences and troubles.
But I am certain of one thing…
God is by our side and feeling it along with us.
If we bring it all to God, raw and unpolished, we don’t have to explain and we don’t have to understand.
In those moments, we can simply weep in his arms…
“Jesus, you wept with Martha. Be near me in my sorrows and teach me your compassion. Amen.”
The following sentence is the one that jumped off the page for me today,
“God won’t force healing – he invites us to participate.”
I’m a creature of habit. I get up early, have my prayer time in the mornings, and (try to) workout before my workday begins.
At the end of my workday comes errands, dinner prep and cleanup.
And, at the end of that, is when I typically plop onto the couch, scroll on my phone and/or binge watch whatever new series I’ve discovered.
It’s at those times I think, rather than doom scrolling or watching another episode, I should probably read another passage in this booklet, or write another blog post or simply seek out silence to pray more deeply before ending the day.
Choosing a holy habit would certainly be a better option and likely provide more fulfillment.
Yet…I stay on the couch.
This passage showed me that “I’ve stopped hoping to change.”
I convince myself, “I don’t have the strength, I don’t have the energy…I just can’t…”
I always manage to justify my laziness.
St. Catherine of Siena reminds us “that grace responds to our willingness”.
So…If I’m being completely honest with myself, I suppose I can make a better choice…
I’m just not willing to.
Oof…I’m going to have to sit with that realization for a while.
Because, when all is said and done…“God heals when we ask, but often we must first desire to rise, take up our mat…and walk.”
Dear Lord, fill me with the courage to acknowledge what’s broken in my daily routines and awaken my desire to make choices that lead me closer to You. Amen.
“Jesus did not simply restore sight – he revealed Himself.”
When I read this I thought…Eye Contact.
Eye contact is telling and it can be difficult. Of course, it’s welcomed when we’re in a familiar place, with people we know…
But what about when we encounter the poor and the homeless? I think most find it easier to look away. To go about our business without interaction.
To pretend we are on different paths. To remain blind.
But what if we were actually placed on the same path for a reason?
What if our mere existence in the presence of that individual is not random?
I recently had such an experience.
I had been seeing the same individual over and over at an intersection near a shopping center I frequent.
She always carried a sign saying “Homeless – God Bless”.
I must have passed by her dozens of times.
But one day, something stirred in me. I can’t explain it, but I felt drawn to her. I found myself thinking about her and wondering about her story.
So, the next time I saw her, I rolled down my window and I asked her name, and I told her mine.
I asked if there was something I could bring her the next time I was in the area.
Side note…the week before this interaction, when cleaning out a closet in my home, I came across a small fleece blanket that no one had touched in ages. I was just about to throw it away but at the last minute I tossed it into the backseat of my car thinking I might need it at some point.
Well, when I asked the homeless woman that day what I could bring her, her response was…“a blanket”.
I instantly reached into my backseat and handed her the fleece blanket. She thanked me and said, “God Bless You”.
I drove away from her shaking and began to cry. I couldn’t believe what had just happened and how it all played out.
So right then and there, out loud in my car, I said “God…I know that was you!”
I believe God led me there. I believe He wanted me to see Him through her. I believe He used her to help us both feel His presence.
The passage says…”It is among the poor that God wishes to be seen”.
I can tell you firsthand, when those moments happen, they are powerful, they change your perspective, they open your heart.
Lord, please keep my eyes open so that I may see You in those I usually overlook. Amen.
Truthfully, I’ve always considered Lent to be a time of trying to prove something.
Proving my love for God. Depriving myself of favorite foods or activities might prove my commitment, endurance and sacrifice.
Trying (many times without success) to do all the ‘holy stuff’ we are ‘supposed’ to do during Lent.
Thinking that’s what God wanted.
I can remember saying to my kids over the years, “with all that Jesus did for us, don’t you think we can manage a few Fridays without a burger?”
It was small and simplified and sometimes, it was in jest but it was my attempt at trying to show God, and my kids, that we remembered his sacrifice.
But this Lent has really changed things for me. I’m learning that while those small acts still matter in our journey to know and honor God, what He really wants is to love us and for us to let Him.
The passage says: “Lent isn’t about seeing how much we can endure – it’s about learning how deeply we are loved. And from that love, we extend mercy to others.”
God Delights in Mercy – I believe that’s what makes Him happy.
Seeing us share his love and mercy with others.
Think about it…what makes you happy?
For me, when my loved ones are happy, it makes my heart happy. When my heart is happy, I find it easier to smile at a stranger, say something kind, or extend a helping hand.
I remember being on a college visit with one of my kids and the speaker was talking to the parents about the transition from home life to college life and she said:
“As parents, we are only as happy as our saddest child.”
It literally took my breath away. Never have I heard a more powerful or accurate statement about parenting. And since then, I’ve repeated it more times than I can count.
I think that’s what this passage is trying to express.
God is our Heavenly Father
We are his beloved children.
When we are happy…He’s happy. When we feel His love, we show love.
And the ripple effect of our actions turns into mercy and understanding.
So, maybe Lent isn’t just about giving up stuff, maybe it’s about giving in to God’s will and letting Him fill us with His love.
God doesn’t want to test us…God wants our hearts…He wants the ripple effect.
Dear Lord, I hand my heart to you today. Guide my thoughts, words and actions and let MY life be a reflection of YOUR love.
“His wounds are the remedy for ours”. – St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Have you ever thought of it that way?
What an incredible perspective.
When we get scraped or cut we know just what to do.
We know how to make it better.
Clean it, apply some pain relief gel and cover it with a bandage. Easy process. Works everytime.
But what about when we are injured in unseen ways?
Betrayed, insulted, abused. If we struggle with addiction or resentment?
How do we make those things better? There’s no amount of pain relief gel or bandage big enough to soothe those afflictions.
So what do we do?
Today’s passage offers us an option.
It reminds us that Jesus’ wounds are where we can find internal healing. Rather than turning away from the sight of his pains, we can embrace them. “Look through them – and see healing waiting.”
Once again we are invited to bring our struggles to God.
He is with us in our suffering…
He is the way to healing.
The last line of this passage sums it up beautifully…
“Let Jesus touch what hurts. It may not erase the scar, but it will redeem the pain.”
Lord, may the wounds of our Savior Jesus Christ heal the wounds of our souls. Amen.
The title of this passage creates an image of strength.
Drive out the darkness. It feels forceful, powerful.
So how do each of us define ‘darkness’?
And where does the strength to drive it out come from?
What if we don’t feel strong?
The passage today says that Lent is a battle not against people or the flesh…it’s a battle within.
A battle with pride, greed and fear.
That resonates with me.
Many times throughout this Lenten writing experience I’ve questioned if I’m doing the right thing.
Where will this lead?
Does anyone even read these posts?
Do my thoughts and words matter?
And…am I helping anyone…or am I just embarrassing myself by exposing my questions and vulnerabilities?
As I write today, I realize I’m fighting my own battle with pride and fear. Maybe those are the demons that need to be driven out. They are the ‘darkness’ within.
Even though I know God led me to begin these readings and writings…
Here I am, not even half way through Lent, already grappling with insecurity, doubt, fear, and worry.
They all make me question if I should keep going.
But maybe my doubts, of myself, my words and my actions with these writings, are coming from the enemy?
Maybe, the passage today is just what I needed. It shined a light on those feelings.
It’s a reminder of why I started this project in the first place…
To grow closer to God.
Maybe His light is what will help me to drive out the darkness.
Because…here’s what I know…
God is truth.
God is love.
God is light.
Those feelings of confusion cannot be coming from God.
So today, I’ll rely on Christ’s presence, His truth.
I’ll rely on His love and authority to battle with me.
He is where all of us can find the strength to ‘Drive Out the Darkness’.
Lord, shine Your light into every corner of my heart, home and mind. Let all shadows of doubt and fear be replaced by hope and strength. Amen.
“The measure of love is to love without measure.” St. Francis de Sales
We are once again being called to love and to forgive, but this time we’re reminded we can’t keep score.
Have you ever heard the phrase, “Do as I say, not as I do”?
The last line of this passage reminds me a bit of that phrase.
“Forgive not because they deserve it, but because Christ calls you to.”
Matthew 18:21-22 – Then Peter came and said to Him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to 7 times?”Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you up to 7 times, but up to 70 times seven.”
That’s a lot of forgiveness!
Truth be told, I’m not especially proud to admit there have been times I used the phrase ‘do as I say not as I do’ with my own kids.
Sometimes it was tongue in cheek and sometimes it was likely in response to questions I wasn’t ready to, or in the mood to answer.
The difference between the phrase and what Jesus calls us to do in this passage, is that He does exactly what he’s supposed to do.
What He says and what He does…match.
He is not asking us to do something he hasn’t done himself.
To forgive without limits.
He perfectly models the behavior he wants to see in us.
I can almost hear Jesus saying, “Do as I say AND as I do”.
The question is…are we up to the task?
Heavenly Father, grant me a heart like Yours. When I feel hurt, replace my bitterness with Your limitless mercy. Help me to let go and forgive without limits, just as I have been forgiven. Amen.
“During Lent, we turn inward – but we are also sent outward.”
I’m a bit of a homebody.
I do love being out and about but more often than not…
I’m content with just being home. In my own space. The space I share with family. The space that’s familiar and comfortable.
Inward.
Lent calls us to be sent outward.
Through charity, alms giving, sharing our blessings with others.
Actively loving.
Those actions are not as familiar and comfortable. They don’t always come easy.
We visited this in an earlier passage, on the second Sunday of Lent – Transfigured by Love.
Today, we are again challenged to love.
The passage says:
“He who has been forgiven much, must love much.” St. Augustine, Homilies on the Gospel of John
That’s a big responsibility.
I had to read that line a couple of times: He who has been forgiven much, must love much.
So let’s think about it for a moment.
Sometimes we make the same mistakes and commit the same sins over and over again. Yet, when we ask, God forgives those sins…over and over again.
But do we willingly extend that same mercy to those we know and love?
Today’s passage calls us to do just that…
To “see others with compassion, not judgment. To live differently, generously, mercifully.”
I don’t know about you but if I’ve been hurt repeatedly, my heart hardens just a bit. I tend to create a protective shell so to speak. And, if I’m being honest, I think it happens without my even realizing it.
Note to Self…
So what about you?
Does someone or something come to mind when you think about the experiences of your own life?
Can we soften our hearts and forgive the way God repeatedly forgives?
Can we grow as merciful servants and offer kindness to those we encounter this Lent?
“The love we show our neighbor is the clearest sign that God’s mercy is alive in us.”
Are we willing to let God’s mercy shine?
Lord, grant me a heart that is open and gentle, not one that’s hardened by pride, and help me to reflect Your compassion in how I treat others today. Amen.
I think I’ve heard the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well more times than I can count, but this time, in today’s passage, the reference to it struck me differently.
The last line…
“Let us come to the well — not hiding our sin or shame, but ready to receive the water that leads to eternal life.”
The words today made me think of Reconciliation which made me think of Confession.
It’s, I think, the hardest Sacrament to seek.
Why is it so very hard to go to confession?
I think the words alone conjure up two different experiences.
Confession vs. Reconciliation
Confession – that’s a rather scary word.
It makes us feel small.
It reminds us that we’re sinners and we’re weak.
It shines a light on our failings.
Humbling ourselves feels uncomfortable.
Speaking our faults and sins out loud for someone else to hear brings them to life. And I don’t know about you, but that gives me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I think this is when our pride is at work.
When the enemy is at work to keep us from God.
Pride gets in the way and helps us easily find excuses to avoid that feeling in the pit of our stomachs’.
Our pride creates the fear of judgment. Fear of admitting our weaknesses. Fear of embarrassment. Fear of acknowledging we are prideful.
Maybe because pride is a sin, in and of itself.
Swallowing that pride and bringing it to God is no easy task…
“I confess to almighty God that I have sinned through my own fault.”
So…we try to avoid ‘Confession’.
But…
Reconciliation – now that brings a different image altogether.
That word is not so scary.
It’s more peaceful.
Reconciling with God, reconciling with ourselves, reconciling with friends or family members.
Humbling ourselves feels different here.
By definition, reconciliation means restoring friendly relations, the resolution of a conflict.
That’s an invitation. From God. He thirsts for us.
He gives us the Sacrament of Reconciliation so we always have a way to restore our relationship with Him.
It’s funny…each year during Lent I feel called to go to confession.
To start fresh with God.
Yet, year after year, my hesitation creeps in. My fear bubbles up, I feel like I’m holding my breath and I begin to feel nervous – confession is looming.
Yet…each year I feel enlightened afterwards.
What was I worried about?
Nothing feels better than receiving forgiveness.
Exhale…
I feel closer to God and I feel gratitude for my life and my blessings.
And each year I ask myself…why is this so hard when I know I will feel so much better?
This year…this Lent…I’m going to try to change my perspective.
I’m not going to go to Confession…I’m going to seek Reconciliation.
Like with the Samaritan woman, “Christ stands beside the wells of our lives, asking us to be honest, to open our hearts, and to receive living water. Christ is the wellspring that never runs dry.”
Wash me clean, Lord, and guide me back to your path. That I may reconcile with you and walk in your love and peace. Amen.
There’s nothing that quite feels like arriving home.
What I’ve come to learn is…
God…is…Home.
Maybe you already know this.
Maybe you have a strong foundation and faith relationship with God.
But maybe you’ve wandered off.
And maybe you’re wondering how to find your way back.
I love the words in today’s passage…
“God delights more in our return than he dwells on our wandering.”
As a mom, I can relate to that. Nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than when my adult children are home. Full rooms, conversations, meals together. There’s nothing quite like it.
Now, don’t get me wrong, my home is far from a Rockwell painting.
Sometimes moods clash and opinions fly, but even then…amongst the chaos, being home and having them home brings a feeling of contentment like no other.
And, no matter how long they’ve been away…
Their return is always the sweetest.
So…I think that’s how God feels.
No matter how long we’ve been away from Him…
He anxiously awaits our return.
We don’t have to worry. We don’t have to wait. We don’t have to prepare the perfect speech.
And most of all, it doesn’t matter what separated us…
Because, like in the parable of the Prodigal Son, our merciful Father watches the horizon for our arrival.
“Just start walking. He’ll do the rest.”
Lord, help me stay close to you today. Forgive my wandering heart and guide my steps back to your light. I am home in your grace. Amen.
“We fear the cross – because we fear pain, loss, or surrender. “
So much truth here.
In an earlier passage, Armor for the Journey, we thought about how the cross is not just a symbol, it’s power.
In this passage we are again at the cross, but this time we are feeling its symbolic nature.
What it reminds us of…
How it makes us feel…
Why we may shy away from it…
And how it might stir up feelings that we can’t quite identify.
Today’s reading provides a new perspective…
We fear the cross because of what it symbolizes…pain, loss, surrender.
Let’s think about it…We live in a world that makes us believe we can do anything.
We can be anything we want, we can have anything we want, we can act in any way that makes us feel good.
And we can do it all on our own.
Perhaps our prideful behavior is challenged when we see the image of the cross?
Let’s be honest, I don’t know anyone who wants to feel pain, experience loss or relinquish control.
Do you?
It exposes our vulnerabilities and makes us feel small.
But maybe that’s exactly what God wants?
Maybe He wants us to acknowledge our own suffering to bring us closer to Him.
To hand it over to Him.
To rely on Him.
So, I wonder, how much suffering or loss do we have to experience before we turn to Him?
At what point are we willing to let Him in and attempt to learn from whatever may be occurring in our lives?
When do we “let go and let God”?
Here’s a thought…
What if we could we look at the cross as a reminder that our suffering is also felt by Him?
That because of it…we have hope. We have strength. We will endure.
But we do not have to endure it alone.
The passage says “lent is not only about spiritual disciplines – it’s about learning to love when it’s inconvenient, costly or unseen. That’s where Christ meets us”
We can love Christ, and trust Him, even when we don’t understand the “why”.
We can embrace our suffering and trust He will make all things beautiful.
Not beautiful in spite of our suffering…but because of it.
Jesus, help me embrace my cross today. When I’m tempted to despair, give me the grace to trust that You are working all things together for my good and for Your glory. Help me to remember that just as the cross led to resurrection, our pain will lead to new life. Amen.
The passage today says that God does not force us into holiness; He invites us, step by step.
I’m a visual person and words like this create such a beautiful image.
Stop for a moment and picture this.
Your favorite person in life is standing at your door, are you going to rush to open that door or will you keep it closed and leave them just standing there?
Now imagine that person is Jesus.
He’s right there, waiting patiently for us to answer.
He’s inviting us to open the door and allow Him to walk with us throughout the craziness of our day.
Will we leave Him and walk away, trying to do everything on our own?
Or will we open the door and accept His invitation?
The passage says: “Choose life” isn’t only about morality – it’s about freedom. We are shaped by what we choose.
When we rush from task to task each day it’s easy to get caught up in our own needs and timelines and overlook the choices we make.
Do we choose to be angry or selfish?
Or do we choose patience, and understanding.
Most days we likely don’t give much thought to either.
I don’t know about you, but most of the time I feel like I’m just responding to whatever is thrown at me without much consideration for how I got there.
The passage today points out that how we respond to each event in our day is actually a choice.
And that each choice has direction…it will either bring us toward God or away.
So what choices will each of us make today?
Dear Lord, this Lent I pray to slow my steps, by even a few seconds, and think about the choices before me and where they may lead. Please guide my choices and walk with me. Amen.
When I think about acts of service I think big actions.
Public displays of doing good.
But…I think I’m a “little things” person.
Those are the things that speak to me. Small acts of kindness.
I’m not the first to organize a food drive, but I’ll make a meal for a friend or bake cookies for college kids & friends.
I’ve never served the homeless on Thanksgiving morning, but you’ll find me lovingly making soup and bringing it to a loved one on a snowy day.
I don’t volunteer at homeless shelters, but I’ll quietly offer a blanket or socks to someone in need.
Part of me has always looked up to people who were able to “jump in” with both feet.
Those that seem to excel at starting a committee or club.
Those that can organize big fundraisers and donate thousands to causes around the world.
That’s not me.
The passage today points out though that the small things matter too.
So for now…I’m going to “serve without being seen” and trust God will lead me.
Lord, show me how to serve this lent. Let my hands be your hands, my feet be your feet, and my heart be your heart as I seek to help others in your name. Amen.
I hope you’ll indulge me for a moment for a quick personal update.
If you’ve been following along, you know I’ve surprised myself more than once by the words that have arrived on this screen.
We are only into the second week of lent and yet this writing experience has already brought up unexpected feelings.
Feelings of self-awareness, humility, and doubt.
But it’s also been joined by love, inspiration, and hope.
With that…I’m dedicated to continue this journey so thanks for letting me share my feelings.
Moving on to today’s passage…
It uses an analogy we can all relate to…washing. Although our thoughts instinctively turn to washing or cleaning our homes or faces, this passage asks us to focus on our thoughts and actions.
Washing what’s on the inside.
Let’s be honest, we spend tons of money, and effort researching products to clean our faces and beautify our appearance.
And, if you’re anything like me we spend even more on items to polish up every room of our home.
But how much money or time do we invest to beautify what’s in our hearts?
I myself am guilty of this.
Each morning I sit with God in prayer. I listen to Pray 40 on Hallow, I read the daily passage from this booklet, and I write from the heart.
And I truly feel satisfied and hopeful afterwards.
I feel grateful God helps me find the words and gives me the strength to share my feelings without fear.
Yet, once that quiet time ends, I’m right back to running around like a crazy person.
I’m still losing patience…
I’m still feeling the pressures of the day…
And I’m still juggling the burdens of the task list ahead of me.
So that’s when the guilt creeps in. That’s when the internal struggle begins.
One minute I’m writing and feeling God’s peace, and the next…
I’ve forgotten everything.
Washing the inside is a beautiful reminder that my relationship with God can be messy.
And I still have a lot to learn.
But Lent gives me the opportunity to slow down.
To offer myself grace when I stumble, and to be thankful that I’ve become more aware of His presence in my life.
“The real work happens in the soul’s interior rooms, where only God sees.”
Lord, help me to wash the inside. Reveal my blind spots and transform me from within so that I can live in harmony with You, with myself and with those you place in my life. Amen.
Love for someone: a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend.
Or in love with something: places, foods, books, hobbies, belongings.
Love exists in many forms and each of them are real.
Today’s passage emphasizes love and how it changes things.
All things.
It changes beliefs, motivations, experiences.
But how often do we actively love God?
How often do we place Him and his hopes for us at the center of our choices?
“The transfiguration reveals Jesus in glory, radiant with divine love.”
“This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” Mark 9:7
Now…I’m thinking very few of us have ever had an experience like the vision of Christ’s glory on a mountaintop but what if we could experience just a sliver of it?
What if we had the power to change the way we experience life?
What if we let love, God’s love, transfigure us? Our actions, our thoughts, our desires, our needs and most of all God’s place in our lives.
What would that look like?
Don’t you find when we act with love we usually feel lighter? More satisfied, more peaceful.
I think that’s God. I think when we feel that way it’s God letting us know He approves.
I want more moments like those.
I want to feel that approval from our Heavenly Father.
Loving is not exclusive to big grand gestures.
Sometimes, as St. Therese of Lisieux showed, it’s the little things.
It’s offering a hug, expressing patience, extending forgiveness, listening to a friend, making a meal or simply offering a cup of tea.
Small things done with love can change everything.
Truth is, we may never see the ripple effect of our actions, “we may not see visions of Christ’s glory”…
But God sees.
So…
“We can choose love again and again…and that is what transfigures”.
Radiant Christ, reveal your glory in my ordinary day. Open my eyes to see you, and in seeing you, transform me. Shape my heart and reflect your light through me, that I may be a vessel of your clarity and hope. Amen.
Love your enemy. “Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” Matthew 5:44
I remember after 9/11, having a conversation with my brother. I don’t remember all of the details but I vividly remember him saying…
“I don’t know… I know God says to love our enemy and forgive but I don’t know if I can with this one.” I remember my instant response was “I know I can’t”.
Our father worked in NYC in 1 BT Plaza, a building across the street from the South Tower.
And he was in his office that horrible day.
When the tower fell, it tore his building apart, leaving a huge gash in the side.
Our Dad’s individual office faced the South Tower and it was obliterated by the collapse.
We had no idea where he was in the hours that followed.
We had no idea if he was even still alive.
Like so many others, it was a gut wrenching day for our family.
Praying, fearful, horrified, helpless, we were glued to the TV watching the gruesome events and images unfold before us in real time.
To this day…all these years later, we know just how blessed we were that our father made it home that night, when so many others did not.🙏🏻
This passage brought me back to that conversation with my brother.
I can see now, with certainty, that my brother was much further along in his relationship with God.
Although he wasn’t ready, the fact that he thought about God and trying to love the enemy says a lot.
That thought never even crossed my mind. I was filled with too much anger and fear.
Truth be told, I still can’t say I’ve forgiven.
And I still don’t know if have it in my heart to actively love those who’ve hurt me and those close to me, but…
I love God.
And I’m thinking about my connection with Him now, as opposed to back then.
So each day I’ll try.
Let’s be honest, we see violence and hatred everywhere we look these days.
The interesting thing is, I now find myself praying for those who carry such overwhelming anger and hatred in their hearts. And I pray for God’s presence in them.
That’s something I was never able to do before now.
So, I know that’s God. I know he’s working in my life. I know He’s helping me find peace in Him.
And I want His peace and His light to shine through me.
The passage says: “Jesus calls us not only to love those who love us, but to actively love those who have wounded us.”
What’s ironic is I sometimes find it easier to pray for people I don’t know, but a bit harder to pray for those who’ve hurt me in my own life.
Does anyone else notice that?
If we can extend love, forgiveness and prayer for strangers, why is it more challenging to have patience and offer those gifts of grace to the ones who are closest to us?
I can’t say I’ve forgiven those who’ve hurt our country and scarred our lives…
But I can say I’ll try.
I’ll pray.
I’ll continue to pray for safety and protection, I’ll pray for peace, I’ll pray for unity and compassion.
And I’ll pray the Lord “helps me to love, especially when it’s hardest”.
I know I ask for it from our Lord, probably on a daily basis, but am I willing to extend it to others just as easily?
The passage today says “Forgiveness isn’t a feeling – it’s a decision.”
A decision.
Let’s sit with that for a minute. “Forgiveness isn’t a feeling – it’s a decision.”
To me it’s always been a feeling.
Forgiving meant I felt better.
It meant it was over. The offense was null and void and in the past.
But is that true?
If I’m being totally honest with myself, perhaps it wasn’t null and void. Perhaps I buried the feelings, but did I really forgive my offender?
Or am I still carrying the weight of it all? Holding onto hurts only to have them bubble up at unexpected times?
The passage says, “forgiveness doesn’t erase the past, but it loosens its grip on our hearts. We’re not only setting others free – we’re healing ourselves.”
So…if we embrace those words…we can hand our hurts over to God.
We can decide to let Him handle it.
In His way, in His time.
And we can begin to heal.
As difficult as it may be to accept at times, I suppose it’s true…
Forgiveness is a decision. Deciding to forgive is intentional.
And ultimately, it’s freeing.
So maybe forgiveness is both.
A feeling and a decision.
If I decide to forgive, if I hand my hurts over to God, I’ll feel lighter, happier, more peaceful.
So…this lent I’ll pray for strength, honesty, and mercy and I’ll pray the same for you.
Forgive me Lord for my failings and help me to forgive others. We lay our hurts at Your feet…you can take it from here. Amen.
“Withdraw into your heart, and speak there with God who listens.” – St. Augustine
My quiet time each morning is the most precious part of my day.
I usually rise before the sun, and before anyone in my home.
I start the coffee and empty the dishwasher in the few minutes while it brews.
I turn on a small light in the corner of my family room and I sit with God.
I begin by offering my own little prayer of invitation…
“Come Holy Spirit. Come be with me in this pocket of quiet prayer. Help me to keep my heart open to God’s word, and to carry his message with me throughout my day.”
It’s during those quiet moments that I realize nothing else really matters. The clutter on my kitchen counters, the laundry that needs to be done, the task list for the day.
Everything can wait.
My mornings are precious, they are mine and mine alone with God and I cherish them.
The noise of life, the distractions, the chaos we endure each day, it’s all the work of the enemy to draw us away from Him.
See Revelation 12:17 – So the dragon was enraged with the woman, and went off to make war with the rest of her children, who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus.
Today’s passage is a subtle reminder that despite all of my lofty intentions for growth and progress, silence and stillness is the way.
I’ve learned God speaks in the silence.
God listens in the silence.
God knows our hearts.
And he loves us always.
Psalm 46:10 – Be still and know that I am God.
Today…for me and for you, I pray for more stillness, more silence, more peace, more love. Amen.
What was your first thought when you read His name?
Jesus.
Did it bring peace and calm? Did it bring hope?
Or did it launch reminders of anger and frustration?
How often we use His name in vain.
How often we use it as a punchline or flippantly utter it in passing.
Yet, how often do we confess the sinful nature of those actions?
Well…this writing went in a direction I didn’t expect…
I suddenly realized just how often I use His name.
I use it in prayer, and I revere it, but if I’m being honest, I oftentimes use it in ways that are less than reverent.
Full disclosure…I gave up cursing for Lent. It was not until I declared it to myself and my family that I realized just how often I use inappropriate language.
So…I’m using a good old fashioned “swear jar” and offering prayers of repentance.
Each time I use a swearword I place a coin in a jar as a visual reminder (as of this writing there are already several coins in that jar) and then I whisper a prayer asking forgiveness.
This passage not only shined a light on my failings of choice language, it taught me that Jesus isn’t just a word, it isn’t just an expression…it’s powerful, it’s above all, and it’s a prayer.
So, this Lent, I pray for awareness of my words, and to think before I speak.
And, when I find myself at a loss for expressive thoughts in prayer… I’ll simply whisper His name…
“The measure you give will be the measure you get.” Luke 6:38
“Give, even when it costs you.” St. Vincent de Paul
How’s that for holding up a mirror to your soul?
Humbling.
Overall, I consider myself to be a generous person. With my time, money and energy as mentioned in the passage but those words, “give, even when it costs you”… hmm… makes you think.
How much of my generosity involves sacrifice?
Am I giving with all I have and with good intentions?
Or am I giving from just what’s “left over”?
And, maybe most importantly, am I doing it (whatever it may be at the time) with love?
Or am I acting with resentment and out of a sense of obligation?
Today’s passage reminds me of the ‘Take Root’ passage from a few days ago.
Perhaps I need more humility; perhaps I need to humble myself.
Let’s face it, life can be overwhelming and stressful at times. And I think that can lead to selfishness and anxiety. At one of those times when I was really feeling it, a sweet friend of mine said “you can’t pour from an empty cup”.
She was right. Putting pressure on myself never fixed anything. I need to remember to lay my worries at God’s feet and trust His plan. Humble myself and let Him lead.
This Lent I pray God continues to guide my steps, fill my heart, and remind me that offering kindness is a gift.
And I pray to remember the words from this passage:
“Generosity is not about guilt-it’s about trust. Trust that God will fill whatever you empty in love.”
Dear Lord, help me to give freely, act with love and to show humility and kindness to everyone you place in my life. Amen.
I wear a cross everyday and I can honestly say…I always feel a bit more grounded when I put it on.
If I happen to leave the house and realize I forgot it, I feel a little empty.
What does that mean?
Why do I feel empty without my cross?
Why do I feel vulnerable, yet never really stop to think about or question why?
I think this passage explains it beautifully…
“The cross is not merely a symbol — it is power.”
It’s power to remember He walks with us.
It’s power when I grasp it and whisper quick prayers of gratitude throughout my day.
It’s power, even when I get frustrated…especially on the road. (Ok…I admit it, at least once a day it takes extreme effort to remember we are all God’s children😉).
It’s power in support of our spiritual growth.
And…it’s a powerful reminder of who I am, who we all are…
Beloved daughters and sons of God.
This lent I’ll proudly wear my cross as the spiritual armor it is and I’ll and pray…
“to resist temptation, cling to grace, and be transformed.”
“Fasting isn’t just about food. It’s about freedom – from sin, selfishness, and indifference.”
Fasting from Sin?
What first came to mind were a few of my, I’ll admit, less than holy habits.
So I started thinking…are my habits actually sins? I’m not talking about mortal sins, the big ones. The the kind that violate God’s law; the 10 Commandments.
I’m referring to actions that seem rather harmless. Are those seemingly insignificant behaviors sins nonetheless?
To be honest, I watch too much TV at night. I doom scroll on social media. I indulge in a glass of wine at the end of the day. I’m easily distracted by news headlines and “clickbait”.
And…I search and shop on Amazon daily (I think my hubby frowns on this one the most).
So are these sins or just laziness? Am I just relaxing or am I looking to fill a void?
I decided to dig a little deeper so I did what so many of us do today, I googled it.
I simply asked: “Define sin, biblically”.
This was the response:
“In the Bible, sin is defined as violating God’s law, rebelling against His authority, and failing to meet His moral standards (1 John 3:4, Romans 3:23).
It is described as “missing the mark” of perfect righteousness, encompassing actions, thoughts, and attitudes that separate humanity from God.
Sin originated with Lucifer and was introduced to humanity by Adam, resulting in an inherent, broken nature in all people.”
Failing to meet His moral standards? See above list!
Missing the mark? See above list!
I don’t think I like where this is going…
So…I asked Chat GPT the same question and the response went a bit further:
Biblical definition of sin:
In the Bible, sin is anything that goes against God’s will, character, or law.
It is often described as:
Missing the mark – Sin is falling short of God’s standard of holiness.
Transgression (breaking God’s law) – Sin is violating God’s commandments.
Rebellion against God – It is willfully turning away from God’s authority.
Failure to do what is right – Sin is not only doing wrong, but also failing to do good when you know you should.
A condition of the heart – Biblically, sin is not just actions; it begins internally (thoughts, motives, desires).
In Summary: Biblically, sin is any thought, action, or attitude that contradicts God’s holy nature and will. It separates humanity from God (Isaiah 59:2) and is universal (Romans 3:23).
So…sin is not only doing wrong, but also failing to do good when you know you should.
I snapped this photo during a walk on Palm Sunday in April, 2020. We certainly could not have predicted the road ahead at that time but this vine hanging over our path gave me hope.
In today’s passage, the following caught my attention:
“Even when we don’t know where the path leads, we know who leads us.”
Trusting God to lead the way, yet not knowing where to? That’s a tall order.
How do we follow with no certainty of the path ahead.?
Truthfully, I find it pretty simple to advise others to “trust, have faith, know that God has everything under control”. But how does that reality play out in my own life?
One thing is certain…(like many of my crochet or knitting projects), I’m a work in progress.
Oftentimes my “trust” comes when I’m at a loss for clarity.
When I just have absolutely no idea what God is thinking or what he wants from me.
What should I say to support those I love?
How should I respond to a comment or situation that is not in line with my own expectations?
Why am I feeling ill equipped?
Why am I in this situation if I don’t know how to help?
Is all of that uncertainty really part of His plan?
Truth is…when I’m feeling lost or unsure in my own life, it’s then that I realize just how difficult it can be to “trust and have faith”.
I want to fix things, I want to make everything better myself, I don’t want to wait and see. I like things to go according to a plan, my plan. And I’m not great when those plans go off track.
I alway say, everything happens for a reason; and I truly believe that except when what happens does not fit neatly into my vision.
So what is God trying to teach me in those moments? And why? Can I really feel peace in surrendering control? Could it be as simple as remembering He is with me?
“St. Augustine reminds us that Christ is both the goal and the path: we follow Jesus in order to arrive at Jesus. Lent gives us the space to take stock of what we’d been following instead – fear, reputation, self-will – and make a new decision.”
This lent, I pray for the courage to follow Him, wherever He leads. And for the humility to confess what I’ve been “following instead”.
