The Walking Rosary or Oh, The Adolescent Male!

by Kathleen Blease

He has a big heart. He is adorable and is the spitting image of his father, the man I'm absolutely in love with. Creative. Funny. Strong. Adventurous. Hard working. And he's driving me loony!

I feel guilty for saying it, but it's true. My thirteen-year-old is constant. Chatter. Eating. Chatter. Jumping. Chatter. Elbows and heels always moving about and looking for excitement. Chatter. Objects are flipped in the air—remote controls, pens, phones, pocket knives. Up, down. Up, down. Chatter. And his brain is constantly conjuring up inventions—usually right in the middle of Math. Oh, the adolescent male! His big brother doesn't make it easier with his untimely input. If you've got two boys, you know what I mean by “the little brother/big brother reaction factor.” Grrr.


I thought I'd take a break. A brisk walk in the cool spring air was in order. I slid my cell phone into my back pocket and called out to the boys, “Call me if you need me.” Translation: I want to be alone.

I took along a decade rosary I fashioned out of twine and knots and decided to follow the advice of Peggy Bowes and her Rosary Workout. This would be a good time to pray the mystery of The Visitation and to reflect on Mary's journey on foot (while pregnant) to visit her cousin, Elizabeth. I thought about that. I crossed over the creek's bridge and took in a deep breath of fresh air. Then I thought about how tired I was. How my foot hurt and my knee cracked. How my back was sore. Did Mary feel all these things, too? Of course. And the trees. The long row of trees to my right—the smell of the pine, the cool breeze, the feel of the road under my feet. Little stones. Pine cones. Twigs.

Here was Mary's path. Mary's school. I was entering in and becoming acutely aware that the Blessed Mother was surrounded by the very same dirt, fresh breeze, and noise of the birds, although two millenia ago and a world away. But these tiny pieces of Our Father's creation today are just the same.

I was in the mode. Peace. Ah, yes, peace....

And then...

“THERE you are! I ran across the woods, over the creek. Look, I got the bottom of my jeans dirty, but I hopped a few stones and got over the creek, then I ran over the field and now I've found you! Oh, here's a stone. Check this out! Oops. Mom, look. Mom, look. Maybe a pine cone would work better. Mom, watch, I'm gonna punt it. Oops. Wait, wait. Mom, look. Mom, look. Watch, watch. I'll try again. Yes! I was wondering if I would find you.”

I don't know why he wondered. I always walk on the same road.

Okay, I decided I would focus on my prayers by hook or by crook. Peggy said so. Here we go.

Hail Mary, full of grace....

Another knot finished. On to the next and then the next. And my son was still chattering. But now he was in front of me, kicking another pine cone down the road. Kick. Scramble, scramble. Kick. Scramble, scramble.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Third knot finished. His elbows flew in the air. Whack! His heel kicked up high behind him.

Right about then, my eyes were changing. I saw something. I didn't see it before.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Another knot. And then it became a little clearer.

Our Lord was just about my son's age when he left his parents to teach in the Temple. I thought about that. And then I thought about the fact that Christ, too, was a teen. What was he like at 13 years old? Exuberant, I'm sure. He must have loved his friends. How many games did he play with them? Can you imagine Him playing some ancient form of soccer, laughing and challenging His friends? All those boys: elbows and heels.

I watched my son in front of me as I prayed. Another knot. Then another. I could feel a unique bond forming first between my Holy Mother and me and then between my son and me. I could hear Mary saying, “Yes, He was like him in many ways when He was a boy. Happy. He was happy.”

We turned the corner and I said to Max, “I'm ready to pray the Hail Holy Queen. Wanna join me?”

“Here? Out loud?” He shrugged and put his arm across my shoulder in his happy-go-lucky way. We began. Out loud, as we walked down road. “Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, Our Life, Our Sweetness, and Our hope. To you do we cry....”

Max walked next to me, but his steps were zippy next to my heavy ones. The cinders popped out from under his feet as we recited the prayer.

I continued on. “....Pray for us, Mother of God.”

My son was quiet. (Quiet!)

“Do you remember this part?”

He shrugged, then said, “That we may be worthy of the promises of Christ.”

Then cinders flew as he ran up the driveway toward the pond. Elbows in the air.

That's my boy!

Late and Frazzled? How Did You Do This Lent?

Christ is always pleased to see you, even if you arrive late and are a little frazzled.

Holy Week is now upon us. If you are still searching for something special you can do for Our Dear Lord, there is still time! Don't give up!

Of course, your home parish should be providing opportunities to you, such as Confession and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. But if you're feeling a little down because your Lent was not as fruitful as you would have liked, then you and I have something in common! But fear not. There is still time.

Here are a few ideas to encourage you and get your creative and spiritual juices flowing:

*You might want to check out my page Links For The Family. It's loaded with lots of genuinely Catholic resources, from other blogs posted by Catholic moms to homilies from wonderful priests.

*Maybe you'd like to begin following the daily Mass readings. You can do this by clicking on the Daily Mass Readings box in this blog's right column. Sit quietly, then read or listen. Take notice at how these readings are inter-connected and think about their themes.

*Go for a walking Rosary. Take a nice walk in your neighborhood and take along a decade Rosary.  Reflect on Mary and the life of her Son through her eyes while you feel the ground under your feet and notice your surroundings. This would be a good week to reflect on the Sorrowful Mysteries. Even just two decades of walking and praying will help you clear your mind and reflect on Our Lord's Passion. If you need a refresher in how to say the Rosary, click here.

*Time with scripture is always well spent, even if you have just a few minutes. Choose any gospel from the New Testament. (I've been reading John.) First, prayerfully ask the Lord to open your mind and heart. He will open your intellect, so you will be able understand the meaning of Our Lord's words and insert them into your life. Then read just a bit of the scripture and reflect. You might be interested in this short post, called It's a Jungle! Let The Little Bird Guide You. In fact, if you are able to attend Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, take your scripture reading with you and do this as you visit with Jesus.

*Believe it or not, it's not too late to begin a good spiritual book. Whatever book you begin now during Holy Week can follow and help you throughout the entire fifty days of the Easter Season, right into Pentecost...and then into the summer. If you'd like to begin by reading a book review, you can find some in the right column. Just scroll down to "labels" and click on "books." You'll get a whole list of reviews of Catholic books.

You needn't be afraid if you cannot make a big sacrifice this Holy Week. Even the smallest acts are pleasing to God and will be blessed, if they are done with a full heart in both love and earnest, with your eyes on Heaven. It is simply your heart Our Lord wants.

I hope these ideas help! Have a blessed Holy Week.

May Our Lord, Jesus Christ, bless you in your efforts to draw closer to Him. God bless.

My Prayer of Abandonment, From Deep Down Inside of My Needs

by Kathleen Blease

I was visiting Sarah Reinhard's blog, The Snoring Scholar, and came across her post about The Prayer of Abandonment. I love her perspective and her honesty on why it is hard to pray. I have to admit, there was a time when I, too, struggled with the thought of giving all to God and asking only for his will to be done... and nothing else. Perhaps my resistance reflected that all was going well.

But last year was not so. I found it very easy to pray this prayer. In fact, it flowed out of me with complete, well...abandonment. I didn't even know the prayer had a name and written verse. It was as natural as waking up in the morning.

And that's why the prayer came to me, because I was afraid of what the morning might bring. Or should I say that the prayer came from me, from deep down inside of my needs? In fact, when I read it on Sarah's blog, I was amazed to see that that's exactly what I prayed. Surely, we are built for God, made in his image, and we know instinctively how to turn to him.

During the past three years, my husband has been suffering from an illness that has stymied the doctors. My poor man has been subjected to all sorts of tests, drugs, and various doses of radiation in MRIs and X-rays and yet to no conclusion. He has been pilled, poked, prodded, and scoped, then met with a shrug from doctors who called “uncle.” All this for a man who in the past wouldn't have even taken Tylenol for a headache.

Between Labor Day of 2009 and Christmas of 2010, he lost fifty-five pounds inexplicably. His skin turned blue, while his body temperature hovered at 95 degrees, even on hot days. He wore sweatshirts while the rest of us ducked for shade and sought cool drinks. Slowly, he began to shuffle and his former Viking-strength was waning fast. To top it off, his blood pressure refused to budge from 70 over 40.

During one of his hospital stays, a nurse came in to take his vitals. She wrapped the cuff around his arm and clicked on the machine. Brrrrr. Grrrr. Up went the cuff, down went the cuff. The nurse tapped on a button.

“Hmm. Let's try that again.”
Brrr. Grrr. Up went the cuff, down went the cuff.
Hubby sat quietly.
Tap, tap, tap.
“That can't be right. Hold on, Honey.”
“No, wait, really. That's right.”
“Oh, I'm getting another machine.”
In rolled the new one. Brrr. Grrr. The cuff did its thing.
“Well, now, it's GOT to be the cuff.”
“No, really...” But she was gone.
New cuff. No good.
New nurse. No good.
“I'm tryin' to tell ya. That's my blood pressure. Honest.”
Both nurses looked at my baby in amazement.
“Mr. Blease, how is it you are awake and talking to us?”

How is it indeed.

One night, as we lay in bed, I rolled over to snuggle with him. Roger's hand was draped over his side, and I tried to wrap my fingers around it. Strange. I couldn't do it. I tried again. Again. But I just couldn't get my fingers around his hand. Then I realized. This wasn't his hand. These were his ribs! I spent the night praying and crying. Every night, I slept knowing that the morning just might bring a new reality, and that's what I was afraid of.

It was a tough year. Today, as I sit with my laptop and tap out this essay, I'm happy to report that, while my husband is not healed, he has managed to gain weight and some strength. And his blood pressure is almost normal. Praise God! And I really do mean PRAISE GOD!

So what about the Prayer of Abandonment? During that difficult year, I could think of only two things: keeping my husband, and letting God take over. Many nights I went to bed praying, “Lord, if you take him during the night, please give me strength to follow your will. I just want your will."

The prayer of abandonment came so easily to me because I knew without reservations that only God could take care of my husband. It was much too big for me, for us—and too big for all those doctors we turned to. Remember, too, that in the midst of this, my husband was supporting us and we were raising and homeschooling our children. (He still is, and we still are.)

The Lord does not cause these things to happen to us so we can learn a lesson. No, indeed, although there is plenty to be learned. But I do believe that he allows us to live in our own humanity, and grieves with us and let's us turn to him. He encourages us to ask him to carry us, which he does so willingly. Most importantly, however, he won't force himself on us. He is a gentle lover, so he waits for us to say Yes to him before he will take hold of our lives. Then we need to pay attention, for his moves can be small, careful, and oh-so patient.

I can honestly say that when there is no one or nothing that can solve the problem, it a great comfort to know that God' will will prevail. It is a joy that lives inside our sorrow. Just think of the cross and the crucifixion. A glory from suffering. The cross, what was once considered a symbol of shame, is now a symbol of glory and abiding belief in Christ's complete love. He showed it to us in the place of skulls.

Each day, I asked the Lord and His Father in Heaven for his will, and he usually called me to do simple things. Foot rubs. Cups of tea. Another blanket. Keeping the kids a little quiet(er). A few kisses on the forehead. Sometimes I wanted to say, “Hey, Lord. That's it? In the face of all this, this is it? A foot rub?” Surely, I can handle more than this. I can enact something bigger and better. I can take charge. But, no. The Lord binds our wounds first and gives his loved ones comfort. He calls us to be his hands. I was his hands.

I was beginning to understand St. Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower, and her little ways.

Whatever your sorrow might be, whatever difficulties you might face—whether they are small or big—know that God has cultivated a special plan for you and just for you—the ultimate copyright, if you will. You can find out by following his will. There is no other way to see what he wants for you. Be not afraid. “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Don't discount small steps he might ask you to take. Last year at this time, the future seemed so big and ominous. But now I can see that many times the big leaps are made in tiny, faithful, and quiet ways. We just need to abandon ourselves to them.

The Prayer of Abandonment

by Charles de Foucald

(a French martyr of the 20th century)

Father,

I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will.

Whatever you may do, I thank you:

I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures.

I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into your hands I commend my soul;

I offer it to you

with all the love of my heart,

for I love you, Lord,

and so need to give myself,

to surrender myself into your hands,

without reserve,

and with boundless confidence,

for you are my Father.

God bless!

Solitude, Imprisonment, and Peace: To Christ through Mary

"My child, the soul that is detached from the world and all that occupies the world lives truly happy days in solitude. Its only concern is with God, as though it is alone on earth with Him.

In solitude the spirit is always recollected so that it may hear the Lord's voice, and nothing can interrupt the heart's own voice as it constantly speaks to God." 

Mary speaks, The Advantages of Solitude, from The Imitation of Mary by Alexander De Rouville

I have been thinking a great deal these days about St. John the Baptist and St. Maximilian Kolbe, and these words from The Imitation of Mary ring loud and clear! 

Both men were faced with a lonely and inhumane imprisonment. St. John the Baptist was captured and thrown into a cell before he was finally beheaded at the request of a young, narcissistic girl. St. Maximilian Kolbe was taken to the Nazi's Auschwitz. It was there he requested to be put into solitary confinement, underground without food, clothing, water, or warmth. He did this to save another man. But his selflessness and acts of kindness didn't stop there.

Both men felt the utter joy of Christ while surrounded by hard, cold walls. St. John the Baptist sent out his disciples to ask Jesus if he was indeed the anointed one. Christ sent them back with instructions to tell John exactly what it was they were witnessing. They were John's eyes and ears. And when John heard their news, he was beyond joy and thanksgiving. His heart was bound to Christ in complete peace, despite his earthly surroundings and his forthcoming execution. 

St. Maximilian Kolbe was also bound to Christ, and he found a way to share the joy with the other men and women forced into the horrific conditions of their confinements.  While spending every hour in cold darkness, slowly withering away from severe hunger and thirst, he arranged daily prayers and hymns among the dying prisoners and practiced his duties as a priest to help the others face their death with hope and the eager anticipation of meeting their Lord. Even though they could not see one another and were surrounded by cold and wet stone walls, they developed a community of faith. The prison guards, who had the gruesome task of checking in to see if there were any bodies to collect, fell in love with the priest, and one even testified to help the process of his canonization.

What was it about these two men? I'm sure there are many, many more stories that are similar--prisoners who lived in unthinkable conditions yet lived in joy. (Fr. Walter Cisek is another. He writes about it in With God in Russia.)

In their solidarity, they turned their ears to the voice of God, and in Him they found the peace and love that completely filled their souls with the freedom of Heaven. If God can come to them in these moments, then we should know He comes to us in our comfortable surrounds.

There is so much more to this! But these are my thoughts for today.

Take a few moments of solitude with God. If you find that you can't settle your mind, then take all your thoughts to Him. Let him live with you in your thoughts. Peace will come. The door to each of our hearts opens only from inside. You will need to unlatch it so Christ can come in. He would be delighted to see you.

To Christ through Mary.

God bless.

"Eyes up here, please!"

How many times do we say to our kids, "Look at me," so we know they are hearing what we're saying? Teachers often say to their classes, "Eyes up here, please," while to pointing to their own eyes.

Experts agree, too, that eye contact is very important while communicating with another--to get a point across.

Maybe, then, it's a good idea to look at Christ when we pray so we can hear Him. (Ah, I bet you thought that I was going to say that we should look at Christ so He can hear us!) It would be good to take away the distractions, gaze up at Him and let Him speak to us. Christ and His Dear Father in Heaven speak in soft whispers.

Recently, I've been carrying in my pocket a small chaplet with the Assisi crucifix. Even when I am washing dishes, I can quickly dry my hands and take out the chaplet, gaze on the crucifix and ask the Lord to help me through this one more task--to make it a small Yes for Him. I have become more and more dependent on Him to show me how to navigate the day by asking Him to show me His will. Yes, even in doing the dishes Jesus has a plan--perhaps to do it in good cheer, as an act of love.

This is the little chaplet I carry, from http://www.clayrosaries.com/.

It gives me peace, if but a moment, to spend time with Christ--moments that arise throughout a typical and oft times mundane day of chores, education, and caring for my family. Each moment is tiny, but they add up, and the next thing I know I'm placing my head on my pillow at night, realizing that Christ was with me through one more day. Or should I say, I was with Christ...because Christ was always with me and I was the one who wasn't paying attention. I just needed to look at Him so I could hear Him.

God bless.

Pool Noodle Rosary

For CCD teachers, vacation bible school instructors, and Catholic moms

Here's a quick post about a terrifc project from Lacy at Catholic Icing.  It would work well for the classroom, vacation bible school, or your little ones at home.

This GIANT ROSARY is crafted from three pool noodles and some clothes line. If you plan to make it for the school year ahead, you might want to shop for your noodles now, while they are still available in the dollar stores.

(photo source: www.catholicicing.blogspot.com)

Click here to visit Catholic Icing and get complete directions and how-to photos. Thank you, Lacy!

God bless.

Fix My Eyes

I just love this video. It appeared on Facebook, and I couldn't resist sharing it with you. Many, many thanks to Josephine Sylvia Loh, from Singapore, for finding it.

You might also like to read my post called Come, Let Us Adore Him.

It's a Jungle! Let the Little Bird Guide You

by Kathleen Blease

As you can see from my lack of posts this past week, I have been finding it very difficult to write. My writing is usually connected to my ability to pray and contemplate. When these two dry up, so do my words. Aridity.

Today, I visited A Solitary Bird, who posted a few paragraphs on aridity and praying with a book. I love the imagery of the bird drinking.

When we face these dry times, we should turn to spiritual books--such as the gospels or books written by saints--to help us settle and/or direct our minds. This is where the little bird comes in. Have you ever watched a bird drink water? It will dip its beak into the water and take a few sips. Then, it turns its face to the sky to let the water go down. Little by little, dip by dip, the bird replenishes itself.

Just as the little bird takes these drops then turns its face skyward, so we, too, should take a few words from God or a Heavenly saint. Then, put the book down for a moment and turn our faces to Heaven to contemplate these tiny bits of nourishment for our souls.

Don't be in a rush. Don't force yourself  to be productive again in this way. This certainly isn't the first time I faced such a dry spell of creativity and aridity in spirituality, and it won't be the last! Perhaps these times are designed for us by God to slow us down, to find a new path. Hey, sometimes it looks like a jungle out there, and finding the straight and narrow path takes time to cut through the overgrowth and cast away the unnecessary.  It can be a tedious chore that appears to get us nowhere. But suddenly, with the help of Our Savior, we find our new path. If we drink from His fountain, bit by bit, and turn our eyes to Heaven, even our aridity becomes a bountiful time. How's that for a paradox?

God bless.

Come, Let Us Adore Him!

(Photo source: www.convertjournal.com)

by Kathleen Blease

During this Lenten season, Catholic parishes throughout the world are encouraged to make available Eucharistic Adoration. In fact, I just attended an Adoration last night. But this was an unusual one. Usually, Adoration is done in complete silence. But this day, the bishop joined the teenagers in the diocese for a special Adoration that included song, reflections, and talks meant to encourage the youngsters to live out their appointed vocation.

I couldn't have imagined sitting before the Blessed Sacrament while singing along with a rock band; that is, until last night. Very new indeed. Yet, somehow it was also very appropriate. The band, called Catholic FX, made music that was sweetly prayerful and moving. I wish I could convey to you the beauty of the bishop's procession--his vestments, miter, and staff; the altar boys, the other priests in Lenten vestments, and the crucifix. The moravian tile under foot. The brass chandeliers overhead. The stainglass windows sparkling in the evening sun. The three hundred teens singing out their hearts, gently raising their voices. And all of us facing the altar; at center, the tabernacle, from which the Blessed Sacrament would emerge for our adoration.

But as I said, Eucharistic Adoration is usually attended in complete silence, without such splendor. Its peace and the presence of Christ is what is magnificent. George Sipe, from Convert Journal, wrote an excellent post explaining the basics of Adoration. Click here to read his entire post. It would be worthwhile for all us Catholics (perhaps especially cradle Catholics) to give it a read.

But I'd like to share with you George's personal experience at Adoration, beginning with his getting out of bed in the middle of the night to take his post. Please note his phrases, such as: prayer felt deeper, and more personal than usual, as well as express myself and discern guidance.

 His experience in his words:

The guys at my Mens Fellowship table have signed up for Thursday mornings from 3:00am to 4:00am. Some have the honor regularly while others may offer as needed. Since one of the Lenten suggestions is increased prayer, I signed up for yesterday morning (my first time).


I went to bed early but it was still a small struggle to wake up at 2:20am! There was a very light rain, but virtually no traffic so the trip took little time. Outside the adoration chapel is a large sign reminding passers-by of adoration and asking for silence. A table holds a log book for guardians which I signed.

Inside the door are holy water fonts and sufficient space to genuflect before taking a seat (the chapel seats up to 35). There were 3 other people there when I arrived. Two, including Trish whom I know, were covering the prior hour and left after a while. The chapel itself is small, very quiet, beautifully designed and appointed.

For a few minutes I just took it all in, rested and focused. It is very peaceful and easy to pray. Without rush or distractions, and in the close presence of our Lord, prayer felt deeper and more personal than usual. It was easier to both express myself and to discern guidance.


After praying, I read a short article on the Luminous Mysteries (The "Mysteries of Light" introduced by Pope John Paul II in 2002). Then, surprisingly, it was 4:00am. It is always amazing to me how fast time passes when praying and studying.

Tony had arrived for an hour he was covering by then, so I left and returned home. The clock read 4:30am when I turned the light off – about two hours after waking up. As I again laid in bed, in the darkness, I suddenly sensed a taste in my mouth. I recognized it as the faint taste of communion wine. Non-believers have all manner of ways to dismiss such, but I believe God speaks to, and encourages us, in many ways.

Of course, I was moved to discuss Adoration with George via email, and I asked him if he wouldn't mind sharing his emails with us. George, thank you. Here, below is our quick discussion, starting with the comment I left on George's post.

Kathleen wrote:
When my nonCatholic husband and I visited Rome, my husband was struck by the beautiful devotion of the Adoration, which is readily observed and made available there. It was the first time I could see the beauty through someone else's eyes. I didn't take Adoration for granted, but I had become accustomed to the fact that our Lord was waiting for us and longing for our presence. However, I was deeply moved by how much it deeply moved my husband. A man who wasn't raised in a faith, he saw immediately the intimacy and grace of the Adoration. Beautiful and powerful. Thank you for this terrific post.

George replied:
Thank you Kathleen, that is a wonderful and humbling story. We are so fortunate.


I know some parishes do not have adoration. I suppose it has something to do with size or perhaps having an appropriate chapel. I sense in some cases there may be a feeling of adoration being (bizarrely) "too Catholic".

One thing that struck me was a thread in the Catholic Answers Forum discussing significant issues someone had in their local parish. The parish was taking certain liberties in Mass they should not have to apparently further a certain agenda. A suggestion offered by many was to find another parish. Specifically any parish that offered adoration would be probably be a safe bet in that area. I am not certain what to make of that but it is interesting.


Thinking about it, adoration is an opportunity to more fully live and experience our faith.

Kathleen wrote:
It's been my experience that many parishes don't have adoration simply because the parishioners are reluctant to sign up for sitting with our Lord during the night. Even if the pastor and the parish council are willing and enthusiastic, they still need help, which often doesn't come. I encourage people to visit the tabernacle as often as they can. While many churches need to remain locked, others have figured out ways to let parishioners into the sanctuary so they can spend time with the Lord. At my parish, for instance, the parish center has a security entry (you have to buzz to get in) which is also connected to the sanctuary. Secretaries will let you in anytime between 8:00-4:30.


Even though visiting the tabernacle is not the same, since we cannot gaze upon the invisible Lord, we are still in our Lord's presence. I don't think people take advantage of this enough. Even after Mass, people leave DURING the recessional hymn, making a B-line for the door so they can be the first one out of the parking lot. If they only knew that our precious Lord is right there waiting for them to notice Him. They need only look to the tabernacle.

George, I can't tell you how moving those moments in front of the tabernacle have been for me. One day, I sat in silence when I felt this profound presence. I looked up at the tabernacle, and there was my Lord right in front of me. I was astounded. It's hard to explain, but something tells me you would understand. You see, I didn't see him with my eyes. I saw him in detail with my heart. Beautiful and overwhelming. I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do. I only felt this profound joy. Eventually, though, I had to leave, and it felt so odd to walk out into the sunlight and the traffic and my schedule again. But then I remembered that that is what we are called to do. When I met with my husband later that day, he said, "I can tell you went to Mass today." I didn't make it to Mass, but he could tell something moved me--again. It was a special moment that remains unique to me. It will probably remain a singular moment, but I am thankful for it!

Many times, I've taken all my worries, frustrations, and anxieties to the tabernacle and offered to leave them with the Lord. And He gave me a temporary emotional relief, all the while He was also preparing to deliver the physical relief, too. We need only ask and seek.

Let's keep encouraging all our readers to spend time with our Lord at the tabernacle. Before Mass. After Mass. During the week. Let's tell them: Don't be in such a rush!!


Thanks for all you're doing, George. I love your blog. It's reminding me all the beauty that fills our hearts when we first gaze upon our Lord and embrace His Holy Church. Even us cradle Catholics have those moments of first realizations of the Truth (a true conversion that takes place in the heart), and they are good to revisit! Thanks for giving us the opportunity.

If you have the opportunity to attend Adoration, please make every effort. If not, the tabernacle can reveal our Lord to you, too. You need only take a few moments to see His guidance and enjoy the discernment that awaits you there! God bless.

Little Mary Grace

I urge all of you today to visit Angela's blog, called Mary Grace Holmes, named after her daughter who was born asleep at 21 weeks. I promise you that the photos will stay with you for a very, very long time. They will fill your heart and place in you a reality of what true, pure love is. What a remarkable family Angela and her husband have made.

I am also asking all of you to pray for Angela and her family. Leave a comment for her and let her know that you are doing this.

God bless.

St. Valentine and Our Priests

by Kathleen Blease

I interrupt this countdown to St. Valentine’s Day for a special report.

Headline: Priests worldwide are in need
of St. Valentine greetings!

(photo source: http://www.priestsunday.org/)

St. Valentine’s Day this year falls on a Sunday. St. Valentine was a wonderful priest, who gave his life for the conferring of the sacraments. On his feast day this year, give the priests of your parish a special valentine. Pray for them!

Let’s not forget that their love is deep and abiding. It is their love of Christ that makes our Lord a spiritual and physical reality for us. They bring Christ to our weddings, through their consecrated hands. They baptize our children and bring them into the Light of the Family of God. They consecrate the bread and wine and bring Christ Himself to us at every Mass, so we can have Christ in us and with us; we needn’t go through life without Him. Our priests bring Christ’s compassion to us in the sacrament of Reconciliation, to lift our burdens and cleanse our souls. They bless our homes. They pray for us. They anoint us when we are sick. They bury our loved ones and pray for their happy repose. They educate us. Provide for us. And tell us what we need to hear and know. Because of them, we are God’s people! Just what would we be without these shepherds? What would our hearts be?

After Mass this weekend, spend some time with the Lord and thank Him for our priests. Don’t just leave after the recessional hymn. Walk up to the front pews, or the kneeler in front of the tabernacle, and spend some time with Christ, offering Him your heart. Thank the Lord for your husband, who a priest has bound to you. Praise Him for your children, who a priest welcomed into the parish family. St. Valentine was devoted to marriage and children! And so are our priests!

Dear St. Valentine,

What a wonderful priest you were. Even imprisoned, you healed the blind and gave hope to hearts in love. How those hearts sought you out! You then gave your life for the sake of the sacraments. Pray for our priests today, St. Valentine. Pray that they realize how much their parishioners love them! Help them find comfort away from their homes and families. And may they feel the joy of your feast day! Amen.

Upon leaving the church, be sure to say to your priest, “Happy St. Valentine’s Day, Father!” Perhaps you can ask your children to make a valentine for him, with a prayer card of St. Valentine placed in the center. Or you could present him with a goodie bag of valentine cookies.  Something to show him how much you appreciate his love of Christ! You might want to visit Lacy's Catholic Icing for some terrific baking and craft ideas.

(craft from Lacy's Catholic Icing)

Now…our countdown continues. Four days left until St. Valentine’s Day! God bless.