Praying for the We in Me

As a psychotherapist, I have worked with thousands of clients over more than forty years. Most of them have resided in nursing homes. In those settings, I have helped individuals with all sorts of medical, and disability, psychiatric, and substance use conditions or disorders.

One Saturday I was sitting in church getting ready for the 4:00p.m. vigil Mass. In my mind, I saw dozens of my clients, past and present, enter the church and sit in the pews, but they were not as I have known them. They were fully healed in mind and body, and they were glorious.

This imaginary experience has lingered with me. When I meet a new client for the first time, or if I am speaking with a client I have known for years, I can evoke a mental image of the person thoroughly healed and notice the difference between what is and what might be. That perception gives me hints about things I might be able to help with or influence. But it also clarifies things over which I have no control or influence.

One might look to a therapist for help in coping with difficult circumstances, but psychotherapy is not curative, and sorry, but no, it is not transformative. In hope of complete restoration and abundance of life that never ends, one should look to the ‘Wonder-Counselor,’ (Isaiah 9:5) not to a wounded one. The therapist might support and guide one’s struggle towards improvement, yet the Eucharistic table is where one seeks the life that extends beyond sickness and death.

We have many roles and many relationships in our lives. Others become important in our lives, and dwell in our souls in a variety of ways, some obvious, and some by rather surprising paths. People we know or have known dwell within us in myriad ways, and prayer occurs in many ways, as well.

Our reflections on persons in our lives can become a form of prayer when thoughtfully linked with the awareness of God in our shared lives.

Just as no one is an island, no one lives for herself alone, or belongs to himself only. We live with and for others, our lives also belong to others, and those others also live within us. A crowd of companions live in us.

Family members tend to occupy especially significant roles in our inner life. Naturally, we reminisce about our great grandparents, grandparents, and our parents, aunts and uncles; loved ones who may have completed their earthly journey and dwell now beyond us, while still within us. From them we gained not only our DNA, but also our spiritual ‘on-the-way.’ In God’s plan, the teleological arrow of our life was first influenced by those vital life figures. We often focus our particular thoughts and hopes on our spouse, children, grandchildren, siblings, relatives, the cherished ones we live among daily.
Our human lives intersect also with spiritual persons. We might gratefully consider our guardian angel, the silent and always present one who guides our soul with timely prompts, as well as the communion of saints – blessed spiritual persons who long to assist our burdened journey on earth.

Prayer can be viewed, in part, as our considered and composed attentiveness to the range of those others within us. Our attentive contemplations can include memories, reflections, and speculations about things we’ve never known about individuals we love, and wishes for their comfort, safety, guidance, and salvation. We might make mental requests for things we know them to need, and for things they need that we don’t know about. Our intentions should include thankfulness for their part in our lives, and for the known and unknown ways they pray for us. And we pray to almighty God that our actions, physical and spiritual, may be fruitful in the lives of others within whom we are dwelling.

Post Script: One day recently I woke up from a surprising dream. I was at a nursing home, yet it was not one of my usual places. I turned and saw a client I had actually met with earlier in the week. In waking life, she is small and uses a wheelchair and oxygen. Yet in the dream she was standing up and smiling. We embraced and I asked, “How is this possible? And look at you – you’re as tall as me. This is a miracle!” I remarked, as we laughed and hugged. We started dancing and I said, “I’m dancing with a miracle!”

Was this dream another preview of things to come?

Casting the Net

“Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets.” (Luke 5:5)

I come from a long line of watermen. Many of the men in my mother’s family were fishers, oystermen, crabbers, boat builders, or a combination of all of four. My husband began his career as a commercial crabber at the age of eleven, as an apprentice on his uncle’s boat. Though his ultimate full-time career became the law, he still has his commercial license and crabs multiple times a week during the season. This allows us a little spending money, family vacations, and this year, a new freezer and woodstove!

One of our favorite things to do in the entire world is invite friends and family to go crabbing and then feast on our catch. Most of the time, we’re able to haul in enough crabs to feed everyone. Some weeks, we know that won’t be possible. This year, crabs didn’t really start running in our area until a few weeks ago. That meant, July 4th week, Ken was out every morning just in case our group didn’t catch enough on the Fourth.

Casting Even When in Doubt

Sometimes the crabs are biting, and sometimes they aren’t. We can say the same about our family’s experiences with fishing. Sometimes the fish bite, and sometimes they don’t. However, Ken is the expert, and if we aren’t doing well in one creek, he pulls up the lines and moves everything to another. Usually, this changes our luck, but not always.

I can’t imagine anyone, especially a stranger to crabbing, coming into our boat and telling Ken to move his lines to another spot and try again. How dare they? Ken’s been crabbing these creeks for almost fifty years. Nobody would ever question his knowledge.

So I can imagine how Peter felt when Jesus told him to go deeper and cast his nets, yet Peter didn’t argue. Perhaps he was listening to Jesus as he was washing his nets. Maybe he heard something trustworthy in what this stranger was saying. Obviously, Peter didn’t argue when Jesus stepped into his boat and asked to be taken offshore. Of course, Peter’s brother, Andrew, may have been giving Peter the look that told Peter this was the man Andrew called the Messiah. Whatever his reasoning, Peter obeyed.

Jesus Enters Our Boats

I’ve often heard it said that Jesus didn’t ask Peter if He could enter his boat, and He doesn’t ask us either. Jesus enters our lives whether we want Him to or not. The question for us is do we welcome Him into vessels? When Jesus climbs into our boats with us, do we shoo Him away, or do we listen to what He has to say? Do we scoff at His commands, or do we obey?

Peter had his faults. He was rash, prone to anger, shortsighted in the ways of God, and often spoke without thinking. Yet he obeyed Jesus without question. He even stated the obvious — they had already been fishing all night and caught nothing — but didn’t argue against trying again.

Fishers of Others

We’re allowed to question God. We’re allowed to wonder how something can possibly happen when the odds are against it. We can even let God know our annoyance or displeasure in the present circumstance we may be in. God can handle that! He knows what it’s like to be frustrated. How many times was He irritated by the Apostles’ lack of faith? What He wants is for us is, when we are annoyed, frustrated, even angry, to obey Him anyway.

That is trust. Profound trust.

Doing the will of God, following His commands, walking the path He has chosen for us are acts of trust. Like Peter, we must put aside our own feelings and follow Jesus out into the deeper water. It’s there that we will haul in the greatest catch and follow Jesus’ final command — to become fishers of others.

My daughter, know that you give Me greater glory by a single act of obedience than by long prayers and mortifications. (Saint Faustina, Divine Mercy in my Soul)


Copyright 2025 Amy Schisler
Photos copyright 2025 Amy Schisler, all rights reserved.

The Shepherd’s Pie: Faith and Remembrance

The Shepherd’s Pie: Faith and Remembrance

“A slice of hope to raise faithful kids.”

This uplifting, ecumenical show uses engaging conversations and fun entertainment reviews to offer positive insights and media resources for families and youth leaders. We discuss current issues that impact young people at home, in school, and in the world today.

In this episode of The Shepherd’s Pie, Antony Barone Kolenc speaks with Father Jonathan Torres about his journey as a priest-author, and how the theme of remembrance is central to the Christian faith, and we discuss his fantasy novel, Blinding Dawn.

 

(info about this episode, get that here: https://anchor.fm/the-shepherds-pie )

Check out other episodes of The Shepherd’s Pie.

"The Shepherd's Pie: Faith and Remembrance" by Antony Barone Kolenc (Catholic Writers Guild blog)


Copyright 2025 Antony Barone Kolenc

Rest and Celebration

Rest and Celebration

By Isabelle Wood

“And on the seventh day God finished the work that He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all the work that He had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that He had done in creation.”—Genesis 2:2–3

“These are the appointed festivals of the Lord, the holy convocations, which you shall celebrate at the time appointed for them.”—Leviticus 23:4 (NRSVCE)

We live in a busy world.

We have to make it to that class or this meeting, go to this family event, drop one kid off at practice, go watch another’s band concert, and get that work presentation done before Monday, all while trying to make sure we get the laundry done, get food made, and keep the house clean… and so on and so forth.

So, it’s no surprise that our culture naturally assumes that all the “rules” of Catholicism merely add to the never-ending to-do list.

But while the rules and following God’s commandments are part of it, they’re not the foundation. The world sees the rules and gives the verdict of “miserable” without digging deeper to the why behind the rules. But the saints—those who lived Catholicism to the fullest—weren’t miserable; they were the happiest people who ever lived because they knew the point:

God’s love for us, and our love for Him in response.

God doesn’t want us to be miserable. He loves us. What faith other than Catholicism mandates rest so we can be refreshed and rejuvenated? And did you know that the root of the word holiday is holy day because it’s Catholicism that’s given us so many of our holidays?

Yes, we’re expected to put in the work and follow God’s commandments, but God is also a loving Father Who doesn’t expect us to burn ourselves out. He wants us to have the rest we need and to be able to celebrate and enjoy life.

So maybe, this Sunday, try to take some time to rest and celebrate the good news of the Gospel. Because Catholicism truly is the best way to live.

 

© Isabelle Wood 2025

Edited by Gabriella Batel

Photo copyright Canva

Broken Shells

Broken Shells

by Paula Veloso Babadi

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”—Psalm 34:18

I recently spent a day with some family on the beach at Daytona. Although it’s the “dog days” of summer, we were blessed with a light breeze, refreshing salty air, and cold waves. We enjoyed a terrific time together.  

I believe sand and sea are God’s healing gifts, and I am reminded of a December day over 30 years ago.  My husband and two young sons enjoyed lunch with a family friend at his home on the shores of Ponte Vedra Beach. As my sons ran off looking for sharks’ teeth and my husband chatted with his friend, I ventured beyond the graceful French doors that opened onto the ocean. Amid inhaling the crisp salt air and reveling in the cool breeze, I felt a twinge of sadness as I eyed the broad expanse of broken shells before me. How much we humans are like these shells—huddled together, separate, yet one on the canvas of creation.

Today, along miles of shoreline, there still are jewels, brushed and polished by the repeated breaking of waves and warmed to a glow by sunshine on clear (and even cloudy) days. Even though life is good, that day, I felt broken inside, just like the shells. But as the sun warmed my arms, I knelt to take a closer look. Our wise Creator gifted me with the hope of repurpose and repair, and the vision of being whole in Him. Whether crushed or damaged, we are part of His perfect painting: His polished masterpiece.  That vision gave me hope, then and now, and inspired the poem I wrote below.

 

Broken Shells

by Paula Veloso Babadi

 

Broken shells upon the shore

washed in by gentle waves once more,

paint the sand with shattered dreams—

their beauty lost in fragments.

 

One masterpiece in the array,

amidst the broken pieces lay

too well concealed for me to see

its beauty on the canvas.

 

Though I am broken-pieced this day,

God’s healing sun and ocean spray

brush me into a form anew

whole again amidst the broken shells.

 

Copyright Paula Veloso Babadi 2025

Edited by Gabriella Batel

A Man of My Own Heart

“Get behind me, Satan!  You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” (Matthew 16:23)

Peter, Peter, Peter. What can I say, other than, “I feel your pain and your regret and your embarrassment. I have walked in your shoes.”

A Bold Declaration

Caesarea Philippi is one of the most beautiful places in the Holy Land. A colossal rock wall on the border with Syria towers above the clear, gentle waters that are the source of the Jordan River. I’ve reproclaimed my Baptismal Vows here, which is fitting for it’s where Jesus asked the question, “Who do you say that I am?” and where Peter proclaimed, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:15, 16).

Peter alone made this bold declaration, and Jesus rewarded him with the keys to the kingdom, appointing Peter the chief steward (what we would call a prime minister today) over the Church, as Eliakim once was over Israel. In 2 Kings 19:2 and Isaish 36:22, we read that Eliakim was the chief steward, the keeper of the keys, the one who led the kingdom, guided the people, and maintained order whenever the king was away. His jurisdiction as the chief steward extended not only over the house of David, but “to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah” (Isaiah 22:21).

This is why we say Peter was the first Pope. The Pope is the chief steward over the house of God here on earth—the leader, guide, and order keeper of the Church. Many other passages in scripture confirm this, yet Peter was still just a human being, and a flawed one at that.

Thinking as a Human Being

The very next scene tells us that Jesus next revealed to the Apostles that He would be killed and would rise again on the third day. Peter protested, saying:

“God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” He turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” (Matthew 16:22-23).

Poor Peter. First the head of the Church on earth, and then, likened to Satan. It took a long time for Peter to stop thinking as a human being and start thinking like God. Even after Peter’s denial, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection, when Jesus asked Peter, “Do you love me” (John 21:15-17), Peter could only assure Jesus that he loved Him like a brother. In the original Greek text, Jesus asks Peter twice if he loved Him with the all-encompassing, self-sacrificing agape love, and then Jesus met Peter where he was and accepted his philio, brotherly love. Oh, how I can relate to that.

Imitating the Lord

I want so much to declare my trust and faith in Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. So often, however, I find myself thinking too much like a human being, doubting God’s power and might in this fallen world. I forget that He sees and knows everything, that He has everything handled, that everything is going to be okay. I want to step in and prevent anything bad from happening with my own human strength when I should be relying on God’s strength and omnipotence.

Luckily for me, Peter continued to give us his own example. On Pentecost, he stepped up and gave a speech so powerful, more than 5000 were converted that one day. Then, in 64 AD, Peter put his full trust in God and was crucified upside down, saying he was not worthy to follow His Lord’s example. Yet that’s exactly what he did. He imitated Jesus by accepting his death and being hung on the cross. He didn’t back down from his teachings, and he didn’t deny the Lord like he did that horrible night in the courtyard of Caiaphas.

Peter the Rock

At any point during his years of mission, Peter could have surrendered. He could have gone home and let the Church fail. He could have stopped talking of the Resurrection and gone back to being a fisherman, but he didn’t. He continued to speak the truth, to spread the Gospel, and to grow in his ministry, his wisdom, and his ability to think like God.

This is what we are tasked with. We all sin. We all lose sight of the Living God. At times, we all fail and falter and lose faith. We allow ourselves to think like humans and not like God. And that’s understandable because we aren’t God! However, we need to imitate Peter in growing our faith, become wise in the ways of God, and spreading the Gospel until death.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. (1 Peter 5:6-8)


Copyright 2025 Amy Schisler

Photos copyright 2025 Amy Schisler, all rights reserved.

Graveyard of the Atlantic: A Ghostly Encounter

Graveyard of the Atlantic: A Ghostly Encounter

Ghost stories tend to be relegated to October or similarly dark nights with a crisp edge to the air that makes you want to curl up safely in a blanket. But, just like ghosts remain transient, their stories don’t have to be fixed to a particular month. My family’s encounter with a spirit was on a warm June night off the coast of North Carolina, near the Graveyard of the Atlantic. I want to be careful and remain respectful as I tell you about my family’s recent encounter.
With any topic concerning what “lays beyond” I believe one should tread lightly. First, if whatever is haunting an area is truly a lost soul, they deserve certain considerations. The first step in any encounter is to pray for the happy repose of the soul who may not be able to be at rest until they receive intercessory prayer on their behalf. If, on the other hand, the haunting is of an evil origin, i.e. – a demonic spirit, the laity must use extreme caution as the demon’s only
desire would be the ultimate destruction of human souls. A priest of the Roman Catholic Church would provide the best guidance in those situations.

On a recent trip out to Hatteras Island in North Carolina, my family and I met up with dear friends at a beach house we had rented for a week. Hatteras Island is at North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Due to the thousands of shipwrecks and the unknown number of human lives lost in the area, the Outer Banks are referred to as The Graveyard of the Atlantic. The shallow sand banks along the coast are hard to see on a brilliant day. Add dark and formidable weather without high tech navigation systems and you have a recipe for disaster. Near our beach house, for
instance, lay the graves of a young couple. Captain Stephen Barnett and his wife Rebecca who, along with their baby boy, lost their lives when Captain Barnett’s schooner ran aground off of Ocracoke Island. It is a tragic story you can find here: https://www.ncgenweb.us/dare/cemeteries/index_barnettstephend.html

Several days into our trip, a squall hit the island as night closed in. The wind slammed against the outside walls and thunder boomed on both sides of the island. Being around 30 miles from the coast of North Carolina, storms feel ominous on an island. After talking late into the night with my friend, I finally headed to bed. Before settling in, I went down to the lowest level of the house to make sure the door was locked. As I turned from the door, I felt a presence very near to me. Deciding I was being silly and chalking up my prickling skin to the billowing storm
outside, I rushed up the couple flights of stairs to my bedroom.

Thunder continued to crash and the wind roared throughout the night.

The next morning dawned crystal clear. The island appeared freshly bathed and brighter after the torrential shower. Our family was the first awake. We headed to the topmost story of the house where the kitchen was located to make breakfast. My nine-year-old son greeted me with a hug and asked why I had been in his room the night before. The conversation went like this:

“Do you mean when I checked on you before I went to bed?”

“Never mind,” he responded, too sleepy to want to explain.

“No, I want to hear about it,” I encouraged. My skin was prickling again. “I gave you and your sisters a quick kiss and headed out of your room before going to my room. Is that what you mean?”

“You were standing by our door. Why were you standing there?”

My stomach felt suddenly heavy. I remembered the presence I had sensed in the downstairs entryway the night before and now my son had seen a form in his room. I kept my face blank and remained outwardly calm. I needed coffee before I could process what my son was asking me.

Mistaking my lack of response for disinterest, my son grew bored of the conversation. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head and running off to play.

After we had eaten our breakfast and our friends were up and about, the two husbands took off with the children to explore the island’s shoals. My friend and I stayed at the house.

My friend asked, “Was anyone up last night during the storm?”

I froze. “What?”

“We saw someone at our door. I thought it was a child scared during the storm. When we called out, they didn’t come in. We got up to check but no one was there. Our kids said they stayed in bed.”

All I could do was stare. She had not heard my conversation with my son. Now two people had seen a presence. I told her I’d check with my children to see if they’d been up during the storm. When I asked my children later, none of them had left their beds.

Later, I approached my son again. “Can you tell me what the shadow looked like that you saw by your door last night?”

“Tall, short hair, very straight shoulders.”

His oldest sister chimed in, “That doesn’t sound like a description of Mommy. Why did you think it was Mommy?”

A thought struck me. Hesitantly, I asked, “Did the form look like what you’d expect a soldier or a sea captain to be like? The way it was standing so straight?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Looking nervous, my daughter broke in again, “Why, Mommy?”

I had one more question to ask my son, “Did you feel like the presence was nice and kind of watching over you during the storm or did you feel scared?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he responded with a shrug. “I think it was like someone was protecting me.”

When my husband and I discussed what my friend and our son had witnessed in the night, my husband reflected that there were gravestones speckled throughout the surrounding yards around the house. He wondered if the house had been built on a graveyard. A quick internet search showed us that, sure enough, the house may have been built on the site of the Zora Gaskins graveyard.

It seemed clear to me that whatever presence was seen during the storm could have been someone who died during a shipwreck, potentially during a storm, and meant no harm. As a Catholic, I believe that some souls are in need of intercessory prayer in order to be at rest. After explaining to our children what we might have experienced in the night and reminding them about the importance of praying for Holy Souls, we traveled to the local Catholic Church and obtained a bottle of holy water. Returning to the house, we offered prayers for the Holy Souls not only in the area but for all those who met their demise in the Graveyard of the Atlantic. We sprinkled holy water in each bedroom and at every threshold.

Even though we had a couple more stormy nights, we did not experience any more ghostly encounters. I pray our friendly ship captain is now at peace.

*One more note of caution: Do NOT seek encounters with spirits. Often, demons will pretend to be those that have gone beyond in order to trick us. The hatred demons have for humans is very real and they will do anything to lead souls astray. If you do experience an encounter, immediately pray something like the following and if the encounter does not cease, it’s time to call in a Catholic priest.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

*Previously posted on my blog at www.eahensonbooks.com*

Copyright 2025 by Emily Henson

Edited by Maggie Rosario

Window Glimpses

Window Glimpses

An old friend and author recently retired. When I first met Susi, her passion for God’s marvelous creation magnetically drew me in, focusing on His boundless wisdom and love as manifested in nature’s beauty all around us. She offered me a guest column, “The Poet’s Voice,” on her now-retired website, “Catholic Stewards of Creation.”

Susi Pittman understands the fundamental truth spoken by William Shakespeare: “The eyes are the window to your soul.” Her mentorship fostered in me the confidence to begin writing publicly. Through her eyes, I became hyper-aware of nature, animals, and beauty in general—all glimpses of God.  

“The eye is the body’s lamp. If your eyes are good, your body will be filled with light. . . .” —Matthew 6:22

I am humbled when thinking about how God views His creation. He gazes at us with immense love and sees us through the lens of His beloved Son, Jesus. How can anyone not know our Creator exists and loves us when He reveals Himself daily to us in this part of the universe called Earth? What we see here is such a small representation of God’s magnificence—as St. Paul said, “Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror. . . .”—1 Corinthians 13:12. 

Susi awakened me to abundant glimpses of God, and we can be glimpses of Him for others when we let ourselves be filled with the light and beauty of His creation. I say, “Open wide the windows!”

 

“Window Glimpses”

by Paula Veloso Babadi

 

It’s only a glimpse of

one sunbeam of light

one moment of love

one troublesome blight

one twinkling star

one glow in the morning

one wearisome sigh

one gasp of warning.

It’s a thread in the tapestry

one tear on a cheek

one piece of the puzzle

one thought that I speak.

 

It’s only a glimpse—

nose pressed to the pane—

one reflection returned

of one move in the game.

It’s a portion of me,

one part of the whole

it’s a glimpse through the window

to my soul.

 

Copyright 2025 Paula Veloso Babadi

Edited by Gabriella Batel

“Woman at the Well”

Woman at the Well

All that I thirst for,
Being known and not condemned.
Eternal relief.

I came to see you.
I have never not loved you.
Do you see me now?

You came first to me?
You wanted water from me?
They all left me dry.

 

copyright 2025 Tom Medlar

Believing and Rejoicing

Believing and Rejoicing

A poignant moment of faith comes in John’s Gospel with the meeting between Jesus and Thomas the Apostle after the Resurrection. Eight days earlier, Jesus appeared to the disciples, but Thomas, who had gone away to mourn alone, was not with them. Now, when Jesus appeared for the second time, with Thomas among the Apostles, Thomas was unable to comprehend what his eyes were seeing. Offering proof of His triumphant return, Jesus invites Thomas to place his hands in the nail marks in Jesus’ hands and the wound in His side.

We read the exchange between Jesus and Thomas in John 20:26-29.

Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing.”

Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”

As we face trials and uncertainties, we might relate to Thomas and his desire for proof, but another moment in Scripture points to a better response. St. Elizabeth’s words to Mary in the Visitation illustrate the faithful response to God’s promises and the markings of true faith.

Elizabeth says of Mary, “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled” (Luke 1:45).

Jesus will echo those words in His exchange with Thomas 30-plus years later.

Mary believed in God’s promise of a Messiah before experiencing the miraculous Resurrection—she was truly blessed by not needing physical evidence in order to accept the truth. She trusted in the prophecies and the promises of God, recognizing that He is our ultimate salvation. Mary did not allow any obstacles to hinder her faith, and for that, she was blessed and rejoiced.

How easily we can fail to believe, looking for signs and wonders as caveats of believing. If we fail to view the world through the eyes of faith, with a heart willing to see God at work, obstacles can mount daily. Rather, let us see and accept the truth of God’s promises fulfilled and embrace Jesus’ glorious victory over sin, death, and the troubles of this world.

Mary allowed grace to fill every ounce of her being—strengthening her to give a daily “yes” to follow and believe. Before Jesus even explained to the disciples that the work of God is to believe in the One sent by God, Mary believed. As she stood before Elizabeth with the Fulfillment incubating within her, her Magnificat burst forth:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46,47).

We receive the same promises through the Eucharist; we see these Mysteries unfold with Jesus literally within us every time we receive the Eucharist. The grace that filled every ounce of Mary’s being is available to us abundantly; we merely need to ask, accept, and cooperate with it.

“Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7).

What keeps us from asking? Although Thomas is credited as doubting, Jesus did not withhold from St. Thomas what he asked for to help him believe.

Mary reminds us that God “has mercy on those who fear him in every generation” (Luke 1:50). Believing without seeing, however difficult, is not impossible. God would never ask the impossible. He is a loving God who works the impossible within us through cooperation with grace. No one exemplifies the powerful result of allowing oneself to be filled with the grace of God more than the Blessed Virgin Mary. May we turn to her and trust her intercession so we too may be counted among the blessed who have not seen and yet believe.

Copyright 2025 by Allison Gingras

Edited by Theresa Linden

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