Searching for and Maintaining Peace

Earlier this summer I met a woman while helping set up for a women's conference at our diocesan retreat center who I admired for how she seemed to have figured out how to live with Christ at the core from an earlier age than I did. By noticing that, I knew that there was likely a lot I could learn from her. She recommended a book by Father Jacques Philippe, Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart.

Almost three months went by, and a couple of weeks ago I was talking to another woman asking for further explanation on a comment she made because I also recognized her as seeming to be more advanced spiritually and once again the same book came up, so I decided it was time to read it.

It is a brief book at 110 pages and relatively smaller in size as compared to other books; however, it contained insight to so many of the questions that I had been pondering over the last year. Fairly early in on my process of recognizing that I needed to re-align my life to having God at the core this image resonated with me so much that I printed it out and put it on my bulletin board.

Yet, along the way, I recognized that though I was drawn to the concept, I was far from knowing how to implement it. It was relatively easy to lose my sense of peace, and I realized part of my journey would mean re-defining what peace truly means in order to then try to cultivate it. Growth on the worry-trust continuum and all the encouragement over the years I received to lean into trust laid a foundation.

This book helped me to deepen my understanding by providing new ideas to consider, an explanation to some of the processes I had completed intuitively, and overall considerations to help me to self-reflect on my spiritual growth. Divided into three parts: 1) Interior Peace, The Road to Saintliness, 2) How to React to That Which Causes Us to Lose Peace, and 3) What the Saints Tell Us, the book complemented others I previously read about Ignatian discernment (this one and this one by Fr. Gallagher and this one from LifeTeen).

I also noted and appreciated that Fr. Jacques Philippe connected his concepts to some of my favorite Scripture verses, such as God working all things for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28). In this way, it took Scripture that had been speaking to me and guiding my journey towards greater trust and provided me with further explanation of how this could lead me toward growth with maintaining peace.

It also brought up a topic that I have noticed I do not like to think about - spiritual combat. Nonetheless, the way it discussed it helped me to feel a greater sense of peace about the whole topic - not surprising given the title and intent of the book - because it contextualized the purpose in the greater journey towards heaven. For example, "Every Christian must be thoroughly convinced that his spiritual life can in no way be viewed as the quiet unfolding of an inconsequential life without any problems; rather it must be viewed as the scene of a constant and sometimes painful battle, which will not end until death -- a struggle against evil, temptation and the sin that is in him. [...] And this combat is, correctly viewed, the place of our purification, of our spiritual growth, where we learn to know ourselves in our weakness and to know God in His infinite mercy. This combat is the definitive place of our transfiguration and glorification" (p. 9). Lines like that helped me to appreciate the concept through a new lens and embrace it, rather than having a response of fear/anxiety, especially because he emphasizes that it is the Lord's strength that helps us combat these spiritual battles.

In general, this book wove together so many threads that have been on my mind about growing towards God, such as: suffering, great peace, trust, and detachment. It also provided me with some answers about tendencies to ponder the experiences of others and how that links to my own sense of peace.

I am so fortunate for these two women recommending this specific book at this specific phase of my life. Developmentally, it felt like just what I needed and that it was rich enough that I will continue to gain insights from it by re-reading in the future.

My Husband, My Dad, and My Priest

Early on in my marriage I remember the calm of my husband's voice saying, "Paz, paz, paz," the repetition of a single word - peace - in Spanish. I can't remember the context of why I was all worked up, but I remember his soothing words.

***

"I won't be able to come this weekend," I said a couple of years later, trying to get the words out without completely falling apart. I was in my 2nd year teaching in a new community with a newborn and a four year old while my husband was in Mexico for an extended stay. Trips to my parents' house 2 hours away on weekends were my lifeline. It helped me keep it all together. 

Yet, this weekend was going to be different. As I walked out of work and heard an odd hissing sound that I later realized was a nail through my tire, the disappointment and desperation started to rise. I picked up my girls and drove home before calling my dad to explain the scenario.

"Get in the car and go to Les Schwab to fix it," he said. 

"What? I can do that. I didn't think I could drive on it." I said.

The solution was so easy, but I had not yet stopped long enough to problem solve. I had only focused on getting my girls safely home and not driving my car, thinking I would have to call someone to come to me and that it would be a lengthier process. I didn't think about how Les Schwab was not much further than I had already driven to get the girls home and that there was still plenty of air in the tire. I didn't think about how the store would take drop-ins with an immediate need. Relief set in as I realized I would be able to have it quickly resolved and continue on with my weekend plans. 

Later my dad told me, "Man, I don't know why you worry about stuff like this."

***

Almost a decade later I had grown with regards to not worrying so much. I had been able to stay calm through my computer crashing on Mother's Day right as I was completing the last transcription of my last interview for my dissertation. I was able to relax and trust in the process when we moved back closer to home without knowing whether or not our house would sell. Yet, I still had plenty of room for growth, especially with the littler day to day.  

"For every problem there is a solution," my priest would say, along with a range of other comments, such as, "I don't know how you have time to worry about this," or "These are all little things."

***

Along my journey I have realized that I can conceptualize a worry-trust continuum. If I am worrying about something, it means I am not trusting in God enough. Now when I notice my worries, I try to re-direct my mind to God. At different phases and related to different layers of life, my husband, my dad, and my priest all contributed to helping me recognize that rather than allowing my mind drift to worry, I need to keep things in perspective and turn to peace. Jesus, I trust in you. 

Strength Training

Thy will be done. You know the bigger picture. You know whether this is part of your plans for me or not. You also know the stories of all the other people this might impact and whether or not it is a part of helping accomplish your plan for them. Thy will be done.

I was surprised to see an unexpected potential opportunity. So much about it seemed so perfect. It was something that I had been longing for, yet it did not seem like it would be possible any time soon or perhaps ever. Then the chance arose. I was in awe with how God had lined up different aspects with an element of surprise if it were to work out.

I thought back to how a part of the book Desiderata spoke to my heart when I read it a couple of years before, focusing on how our lives can have interesting twists and each of our previous experiences can position us well for where God is leading us in ways we never could have imagined. This opportunity felt like it was going to be another piece to my story, something that would better position me to fulfill God's plans for me. 

Nonetheless, I knew that even though it felt perfect, it might not end up being part of my plan. While my excitement built, I knew I should be patient and not get too excited until I knew one way or another. But of course, there I was dreaming and mapping out a detailed multi-year plan mixed with reflecting on how I wanted to respond if it did not work out. 

Thy will be done. You know whether this will help me or pull me away from being better positioned to accomplish your plans for me. If this is not part of your plans for me, even if I am the only one who expressed interest in it, guide those making the decisions to hesitate from offering it to me. Let them tell me no and turn down the opportunity. Or, if it is offered to someone else, let me be happy for the other person. Let me accept. Thy will be done. 

A couple of days ago the decision came. Even though I was planning on waiting patiently for things to unfold when and as they naturally would, I was impatient. I wanted to know whether there was a reason to keep hoping or whether the process had already moved forward with someone else. As I read the word "sorry" in the text response, the sad emotions came even though I wanted to fully accept whichever answer came as God's will and His ability to work all things for the good of all involved. 

Even though I proactively focused on approach, I realized that would not keep me from feeling a sense of loss even though I knew it meant the closing door must have been for the better. It did however give me a chance to feel the range of emotions that come with a disappointment and all the what if questions but then conscientiously choose to turn it all back to God and to pray in gratitude for being able to trust that it was not part of my plan for now, for others who would take part in the opportunity and the many lives they would impact as a result, for the people who inspired by the Year of Mercy had decided to offer this generous opportunity to begin with... 

I need to delete the folder with all my plans, I thought. But, what if something doesn't work out with the original plan and I end up being able to do it after all? Maybe I should keep it. 

No, letting go has been an area of growth for you. Delete the file. Let go. Intentionally remember to pray for others at strategic times, and in the face of unplanned reminders, pray. Trust and let go.

Thy will be done. Thank you for this opportunity to strengthen me, for helping me to desire a certain response if faced with disappointment and then being able to make a conscious decision to follow through. Thank you for helping build my excitement so that I could feel a loss but then still be able to respond with trust and confidence in you. Thank you for providing the contexts and scenarios in order to grow in the ways you would like me to. I know it is all part of my preparation to fulfill what you desire for my life. Thy will be done.

33 Days of Merciful Love

Because reading Fr. Gaitley's 33 Days to Morning Glory had been a powerful experience for me, when I heard about 33 Days to Merciful Love being available for pre-order last year, I ordered a copy right away and then decided to read the book leading up to the Feast of Our Lady of Fátima and just finished re-reading it on the same cycle, leading up to today, the 100th anniversary of the first apparition of Our Lady of Fátima.

Even though I was excited for the book, I was worried about another consecration, wondering if it would feel too overwhelming. Nonetheless, Fr. Gaitley put me at ease right from the introduction as he talked about how the concept of Marian consecration and a Consecration to Divine Mercy align with each other and are complementary, rather than two disconnected aspects.

With that worry already set aside, I was instantly drawn in. Having a better sense of the narrative of trust running throughout The Bible through a conversation with my priest back in the summer of 2015 ended up being a pivotal experience for me, so when I started reading 33 Days to Merciful Love and noticed the big emphasis on trust, I took note.

Unlike 33 Days to Morning Glory, rather than focusing on a different saint for each of the four weeks, this time Fr. Gaitley focused specifically on St. Thérèse of Lisieux throughout the book, with some attention to St. Faustina occasionally. The book focuses on: Week One: What Is Trust? Week Two: The Little Way, Week Three: The Offering to Merciful Love, Week Four: Into the Darkness and the last days as review and preparation for consecration. Similar to 33 Days to Morning Glory, the review cycle focused on a day with three key words from each week. I appreciate this way to reiterate key points and tie it all together. I especially liked the reminder from week two with the emphasis on recognizing our smallness and then being persistent with trusting and trying. That is a reminder that I would do me good to hear again and again as it relates to so much in relation to our lives of faith.

As a teacher, I know how common it is to hear teachers lament that students don't know a concept that they should have learned in a previous year only to hear the teachers from the previous year(s) say they did teach the concepts. While re-reading this book there were so many concepts that I felt like I was figuring out through experiences but then realized that the concepts were in the book, that I had exposure to them before the experiences that made me feel like certain truths were becoming apparent to me. The realization of how a book could resonate one year but then make significantly more sense the next year with the time and space of additional first hand experiences to ground the concepts in between helped to confirm the need for on-going investment in spiritual development and the value in re-visiting resources that capture our attention, knowing that with time we change and can understand at a new level.

Now, I am currently reading Fr. Gaitley's Consoling the Heart of Jesus and Praying the Angelus. 

Divine Mercy in My Soul: Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska

I have been receiving the Divine Mercy Daily emails for a little over a year and have heard about St. Faustina in multiple books, such as Divine Mercy for Moms; however, I had not yet read St. Faustina's full diary. Being familiar with the diary through quick glimpses each day vs. reading the full diary beginning to end felt similar to reading the daily readings vs. reading the full Bible.

While I read it in January, for the first part I was taking notes in a journal, but part way through I started marking pages that I wanted to revisit later because it wasn't always convenient to take notes when I wanted to read and the constant stopping was interrupting the flow. As the picture shows, there were aspects that stood out frequently. The qualitative researcher in me noticed trends in what was standing out. While I have not yet gone back through all of my markings and it is hard to capture thinking in a blog post, here is a glimpse... 

I was surprised that I could relate to St. Faustina so much. While of course all of the Saints were real people just like us, sometimes it is easy to forget how relatable they can be. Perhaps that is because we often read about them, rather than their vulnerable, inner thinking that diaries provide - the challenges, the confusions, the joys... 

One of my biggest areas of growth over the last year has been a desire to align my life to God's will but sometimes being confused about which path to take. My priest has helped me to sift through some of those thoughts, especially with the first step of recognizing these confusions and tensions are to be expected. Nonetheless, I would still often pray something along the lines of - just let me know which of these options you want me to do, and I will do it; I want to align to your will for me, but I am confused about which you want me to do. I thought if God would just tell me, it would be so much easier. Then, I noticed in the diary that even though St. Faustina did hear directly from Jesus, it was still a struggle to follow through with some aspects. There were still doubts, confusions, and contradictions. 

I was especially interested in the recurring concept of obedience. St. Faustina felt strongly that she was supposed to start a new congregation but she was also supposed to be obedient, and the two were in direct opposition of each other. Over the last year or so, I have been thinking a lot about letting go and patiently surrendering to the concept that things will unfold when and as they should according to God's will. St. Faustina's diary captured how this can be challenging but that we just need to be reminded again and again to trust, not to worry and to strive to just do the next thing as faithfully as we can. 

My understanding of the word humility has expanded lately, and I am realizing that obedience goes hand in hand. Both are areas of continual growth and both can be challenging, yet I can notice how keeping both in mind are transforming me.

While the focus on mercy was to be anticipated, I enjoyed reading more in depth about the concept in order to better understand and reflect on implications for my day to day life. Last summer I was able to attend a screening of the Divine Mercy film and purchased an image. Having a deeper foundation in the significance makes it all the more meaningful.

As with any resource, concepts in St. Faustina's Diary have connected to other ideas and concepts before, extending my understanding and giving me more to ponder.

Leaning Into Suffering - Part 3 Labor 4

This post is part of a series about suffering. If you did not see the initial posts, you can find them here and here.

April 2016
I thought ahead for months. With three labors past, I was more confident in what labor would be like. I remembered my mom saying how I (her fourth) was her easiest labor. I also let my doctor know my labors were typically fast and how I lost my calm when the doctor in my third labor said it was not time but then my baby was born immediately once the nurse told me to push. My doctor let me know to go in sooner rather than later and to make sure the nurses called her. One of my friends let me know there was a note on my chart telling them to call her as soon as they saw me.

My personal journey had led me to almost a full year of regularly attending daily Mass for the first time ever in my life, I had been investing in my personal faith formation, and had been going to a weekly Adoration for some months (something I had not done since my oldest was 1). As part of those experiences, I had heard about Blessed Chiara Badano from Chris Stefanick and Saint Alphonsa from my priest, which in combination with other readings and faith formation resources, helped me to consider the concept of uniting suffering to Christ's for the Salvation of Souls or the concept of offering it up. I recognized that was a vital piece that I wanted to keep in mind during labor. During Holy Week, I thought about Jesus' Agony in the Garden and the deeper understanding I had about that strengthened me.

I knew labor was approaching. I thought I was in labor on a Friday night but then the contractions went away and I waited and waited. I knew it was getting closer and made a prediction that it would happen by a certain time. Then it didn't. That point in time came and went without any regular contractions. But there was peace. I was able to have a patient mindset and inner dialogue with God that I trusted it would happen when and as it should, even if it was much different than my other labors for which I had a great sense of gratitude.

Sunday night, I woke with the familiar feeling. As soon as I had barely enough contractions to feel like they were regular, my husband and I once again headed to the hospital in the middle of the night. I let him know I just needed to focus and didn't want to be carrying on a conversation, so he stretched out on the bed for dads and rested. I set into my prayers within intermittent interruptions from the nurse. I rotated the Rosary ring on my finger as I went through the decades. When the IV was inserted making that painful, I counted on my fingers. I prayed and prayed. I wondered if I would make it through the Rosary before labor but ended up praying all four sets of Mysteries.

Jesus, I trust in You, I thought as the pain increased rather than yelling out as I had the previous labor. "For You, Jesus," I thought inspired by Blessed Chiara Badano's words. When it got harder, I imagined Jesus as the Good Shepherd, as it was not too long after Good Shepherd Sunday and my priest had talked about an image he has of Jesus carrying the lamb over His shoulders. I was calm and collected, yet ready to have my baby in my arms and the relief of knowing labor was over. I was impatient. "Remember, my babies are small," I said to my doctor when I heard those familiar words, "Not yet" a couple of times.

When I did have the go ahead to push, there was another surprise in store for me - it was not immediate and effortless. I actually had to get coaching from the nurses and my doctor on how to focus my energy while pushing. What? I thought. I needed to lean into the pain more, rather than on shifting too deeply into prayer. "Keep your eyes open. Stay with us," they said.

After my longest labor pushing (unless my first labor is too blurry with time), she was there and I was in awe. It wasn't what I had expected. I wasn't expecting it to be more effort than before. My four labors came into focus; I saw them from a new angle.

Leaning in to Suffering - Part 1: Introduction

Last fall I talked to my priest about how approaching another labor in the spring, I knew that I would need to conscientiously focus on trust, rather than anxiety. I knew as the months and days passed and I approached my due date that I would start to worry and wonder. However, I was starting to get a better sense of suffering and the concept of uniting suffering with Jesus's thanks to the influence of different layers of faith formation.

Thinking of the concept of Jesus' suffering was present while preparing for my first labor 13 years ago; however, I was much further from the concept sinking in. This April as I laid in my hospital bed with so many emotions, one of the salient thoughts was those four different labors making sense in teaching me about strength and suffering.

Today as my priest talked about St. Alphonsa in his homily on her feast day with words such as, "The wealth of the bride is the wealth of the bridegroom, and the wealth of my bridegroom is suffering" and her requests to "Give me more" when referring to suffering, I was reminded once again of my labors, what I have learned about suffering, and how far I can still grow in the area. Over a series of posts, I will share glimpses into my journey.

Saint Alphonsa, Pray for us.

In the Mix: Approaching the End of the Term

I haven't been posting on my blog as much as I would like to, swept up in a swirl of everyday life. I always love Thanksgiving break during fall term, knowing that we have a little time and space to breathe before shifting into the last week of the term and finals week, followed by a 3 week break before the start of winter term.

One of the things I look forward to during the break is a chance to step back and consider how the term went. I know that I was able to continue with certain aspects of my life that I wanted to (starting the day with daily readings, attending daily Mass unless I had a meeting that couldn't be avoided, weekly Adoration), but other aspects slipped (occasional instead of daily Rosary, not as regular with reading Catholic books, little to no journaling).

I need to reconsider the rhythms and routines of my life during academic terms and think about implications for my vision for the transition to winter term. I also need to be proactive in envisioning how my life will shift once again in the spring of 2015 when we welcome baby #4 into our family. Two days after I published this post where I was finally getting a greater sense of peace and a better ability to let go and trust, I realized that I was pregnant! Once again, I was amazed at God's plan for my life. The delayed answer. His time table. The lesson I needed to learn, the way I needed to grow before getting my answer.

Here I am in the mix of my mid-30s thinking, reflecting, and living. Thy will be done! Help me to live my life according to Your will and to navigate the different options and possibilities. Where there is a clear-cut choice, let me choose You.

God's Will For My Life

Knowing God's will for my life and then taking action to align my life to His will for me has been a focus this year, more than any other year. I decided for the month of July to discern whether or not I am being called to have more kids. Approaching it much like any other time I have thought about whether or not to have kids, I was thinking about the rhythms and routines of the academic year as an educator (hello late spring/early summer babies). My plan was to discern in July and then move forward in one direction or the other in August. In order to help me discern, I decided to pray the rosary daily and then write in my spiritual notebook. 

I have always been a planner, and it didn't take my husband long to notice that about me with many aspects of our life. Early on in our relationship, my husband shared the saying in Spanish, "Si quieres hacer reír a Dios, cuéntale tus planes," which is like saying in English, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." In response, I continued planning away anyway, such as having tables with each family member on one axis and the ages and grade levels for the girls on another axis. Then alongside our current family, there would be columns for potential additional children. I would think through different scenarios for our family based on number and spacing of kids. 

My plan to discern in July was with that same planning in mind. Nonetheless, on the very first day of my rosary and reflecting, I was overcome with a sense that I wasn't the one in control, that everything could change in an instant, and that I couldn't impose my own timeline for an end date to make a decision. Instead, I realized that I would need to be more flexible, more open. 

Nonetheless, I still felt fairly determined that by the end of July I would have confidence and peace in which direction I should be moving. I knew that if I chose to have more kids, my focus would be more heavily on my role as a wife and mother at home (alongside my career that would be necessary to continue to support our family alongside my husband). I knew that I would need to step back from some of the ways in which I have been involved at church just as I had needed to previously. On the other hand, if I didn't have more kids, I would be able to maintain or increase my involvement.

I wanted to know the right answer, the direction in which God was calling me for this point in my life, how He would like to use me. One particular night at Adoration, I felt like I had my response. In my head I heard something along the lines of, "Amanda, you put so much pressure on yourself, carrying around the weight of always wanting to know the right answer." I got the sense that in this particular scenario, there was not a cut and dry do this, not that. Part way through these thoughts, one of our parish priests came in the Adoration Chapel and knelt down behind me to pray. Without any words between us, I could feel an additional layer of solid support and comfort.

I would love to say that I walked away that night fully embracing this uncertainty, but instead, I still wanted to know which route would be best. Soon after, I asked our other priest about having confidence in God's will for our lives, and the statement that stands out to me the most was him telling me to remember Mary's "Thy will be done" as the main thing I need to say and then letting different aspects unfold. The experiences and comments were shifting my thinking. Yet, I was still unsettled. I hadn't been expecting an "either" answer or a wait and see answer. I wanted a do this or do that response. I wanted July to end with a clear path forward; however, the end of the month came and went without that outcome.

An additional conversation with my priest in August pointed me back to leaving the control in God's hands. Then, last week the following video Fr. Mike Schmitz via Ascension Presents showed up in my Facebook feed:

I had comfort in his words explaining scenarios in which there was encouragement to feel comfortable with God's process, including the role of patience in the discernment process captured well in his explanation, "Here's my invitation for you today is to be content and confident to live in uncertainty, or maybe even a better way to say it is like this - to live with a certainty that God has already given you, to live with the clarity that He's already spoken. You know what He wants you to do."

Right before his conclusion, he used Mary at the Annunciation as an example. I instantly made the connection that like my priest, he was linking God's will to Mary as a mentor and guide in how to respond.

Finally, close to a month after my original intended deadline, I was able to accept and embrace what God had been trying to get across to me from my first day, July 1st, and at different points along the way through His presence and the different people and resources He put in my path. He is in control, and all I need to say is, "May it be done to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). While I thought the outcome of my discernment plan would be a path forward for that one specific scenario, instead, I learned something much more vital and bigger picture - I'm learning to let go and trust.

Trusting in the Bigger Picture

*Life begins image from Ali Edwards' Firsts digital kit

Today I dropped my oldest off at the middle school, but it was not until the afternoon that it hit me that this would have been the year. It would have started the first of three years that I would have been her reading and writing teacher had I stayed in our previous community in the K-8 school where I taught and the girls attended school.

Since my transition to teacher education at the university level two years ago, the start of the school year is always bitter sweet. There is about a month where I am back to work before my university students arrive and while K-12 teachers are preparing for and then welcoming their students. I drop my girls off to their schools and miss being one of the teachers within their same school. Once my own classes start and students arrive, I feel more at peace with occasional nostalgia.

This year though, there has been a shift. While I still miss my previous context, I have comfort in the bigger picture. When my husband and I were deciding whether or not to make the move, I did a lot of praying that if a transition to higher ed and a move back home closer to both sides of our families was in the best interest of our family in the bigger picture of our lives, the pieces would click into place. If conversely, it was better to stay, I wanted it to not work out for one reason or another.

Everything clicked into place, and I accepted the position just in time to welcome our third daughter into our lives, put our house on the market, and prepare for our transition. Last November, a little over a year in to my new position, I had a significant shift in making some tough decisions in order to have some healthy career boundaries and to allow for more of my focus to be on other aspects of my life.

Nonetheless, trips back to our old community would still make me emotional. I missed my colleagues and the families, I was sad about the girls not having access to bilingual instruction, it was hard to no longer be part of the school where I invested so much time and energy... While I was grateful for my new position and aware of the advantages of the position and being closer to family, it was still hard to let go of 7 years of experiences in another community. In between two trips to the community back in April, I knelt in the pew praying prior to Mass that would be followed by a Chris Stefanick event at our parish.

I got a sense that the reason why I moved back was to be more involved in my parish and to invest more in my own faith development. I thought about opportunities that opened up or were facilitated based on where we are - right here. right now. I considered what was already in motion and what would still be to come. I had the clarity of the bigger picture that I had prayed about; although it was somewhat surprising as it started to come into focus more, something I had not anticipating back when the transition was just a possibility. My thoughts were solely focused on: my career, family, and my girls' education. The realization of a deeper layer to the purpose of moving has helped me to feel settled about our shift.

Today when the thought came that this would have been the year, rather than feeling sadness, I thought about the rhythms and routines of the day. The girls and I attended morning Mass together as we will each Monday because their schools have a one-hour delay on Mondays. Our priest was able to give them a blessing for their first day. If I had been in a K-12 context, I would have been in my classroom and attending daily Mass would not be possible today or any day other than vacations. When I dropped the girls off, I was able to experience the moments as a mom, rather than rushing between mom and teacher. When I walked between the university and the church for a mid-day meeting followed by praying the rosary in the quiet church, I was grateful for the proximity of the university and church, as well as the flexibility of my schedule. I met the girls at the end of the day for a check-in on their day and prayer and then switched back to work.

Sometimes trusting in God's plan for our lives requires us to take a step without knowing for sure how it will all work out and without knowing the why behind being drawn to a certain direction. It requires moving out of comfort zones and taking risks. It requires patience and reflection to connect the different pieces and room for surprise and a shift in direction. This is just the start.

Lead me, Lord. Help me to trust in your plan for me and to take the steps that you would like me to even when there is no way for me to comprehend your big picture. Help me to be amazed with the way you help different pieces come together and to recognize where you are calling me to move.