But there’s an added level of anxiety it brings me, a little related to the second anxiety I mentioned above. It’s brought on by seeing other Catholic content creators and personalities having extraordinary success through social media. It’s the knowledge that I could be speaking at more retreats and conferences, I could be selling more books, I could be helping more people… if I only I was better at social media.

That leads to great anxiety. I need to make reels, and I need to post more, I need to be better at promoting my books, why do I only have 1300 followers?

I came across a Catholic content creator recently who looks to be about eighteen years old and has been speaking at youth conferences all over the world… thanks to his social media presence. So many thoughts come flooding over me. Jealousy, self-doubt, discouragement.

Unrelated to this, Katie McGrady posted this week about the prevalence of Catholic content creators using AI to create material. When one of these personalities was hired to present at a conference, they couldn’t deliver. Of course they couldn’t. Creating a reel is not the same as crafting a talk.

Who knows how many Catholic influencers are even learning their theology from Claude or ChatGPT? Give me a 30 second script explaining the Assumption with a good hook at the beginning…

It’s real, folks. And we’re encouraging it by bingeing their content and giving them clicks and watch time.

So yep…as a Catholic creator (?) trying to “make it” (??) … social media causes me anxiety. Creating content like that takes a lot of time, even if it looks like that 18-year old made that reel in two minutes sitting in his car. And frankly, maybe he did, because he’s 18 and grew up with an iPhone attached to his hand. But it certainly doesn’t take me 2 minutes. And the time it takes me to do that, I could be doing a number of other things.

I had a pretty difficult but fruitful moment in prayer today. I took all these feelings to him. I’ve been feeling dry and anxious…I have a lot of projects I’m trying to juggle…I have too much to do with too little time.

They’re all good things… things to further the Kingdom. And that’s why it bothers me. It’s not that I want fame or fortune. For Pete’s sake, let me show you my last royalty check. The books I’m writing are bringing me neither. And that’s okay, because that’s not why I wrote them.

I’m doing the things I’m doing because I want people to know and love Jesus. I want people to know how to pray. I want people to know what it looks like to live as a Catholic in the world and not be weird. Almost every project on my heart right now is geared toward that. I’ve been given a lot in life–both the stuff you learn in books and the stuff you learn by living and suffering–and I want to give it to others. Heck, I wrote a darn good book on Catherine of Siena and I want to others to learn from her.

But anxiety comes when I feel like I’m unable to share it. And when I see others with bigger platforms and bigger audiences, those feelings all bubble up: Jealousy, self-doubt, discouragement.

So I gave it all to the Lord. One by one, I handed every project and desire of my heart over to him. From my online Scripture community, to my books, to my retreat-pilgrimage I’m planning next year, to my desire to be more present to my family and friends. I think I handed over 12 or 15 projects and desires over to him. And I simply said, “Give me back the ones that will help be me a saint.”

In the end, that’s all that matters. In this pilgrimage of life, all that matters is how we get to our destination. Everything in life must be weighed against that. Is it getting me closer or farther away to the goal on this path to heaven?

God, here are my desires. Here are my plans and my projects. Give me back the ones that will get me to heaven.

I am prepared to have my heart broken when he doesn’t give some back. But I want him to decide what’s next, not me. Because his plan is best. And he works all for the good for those who love him.

So will my lack of social media content production continue to cause me anxiety? Probably. But it shouldn’t. Because in the grand scheme of things, I don’t want to spend hours creating a reel for you to consume on Instagram. I’d rather be writing.

Or praying so I can grow in friendship with Him.

Or reading the saints so I can give better advice.

Or reading fiction so I can be a better writer.

Or hanging out with my family and friends so I can be a better human.

Or writing a new bible study to help you fall in love with Jesus.

Or working on a lectio divina course to help you pray.

I’d love to be going to more parishes to do missions, traveling to more dioceses to give women’s retreats, introducing more people to Catherine, teaching more people about Jesus… And the world tells me that in order to do that I need more than 1300 social media followers. And to do that I need to create more content.

But you know what? Today I decided to write. I decided to spend time with my family, pray the Divine Mercy chaplet with my pilgrims from my upcoming pilgrimage, and read Lord of the Rings.

I will likely never be a good content creator when it comes to social media. My hope is to be a good content creator when it comes to books and talks and things that will help you and me get to heaven. That’s the content I’d like to create.

want to follow me on instagram? hahaha

(don’t be disappointed. I don’t post enough...)

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On a slightly related note, I put an appeal out on social media yesterday as a bit of a last ditch effort. I’m looking to purchase a specific set of used books. I’ve scoured the internet for them for over a year and simply can’t afford their going rate on Amazon, Abe, eBay, etc.

I don’t know if AI is buying them up to destroy them or what, but I can’t afford 5k for a single book. But I’m convinced I can find them in a brick and mortar store–or in someone’s attic or basement–and pay something I can afford.

The best complete translation of St. Catherine of Siena’s letters is by Suzanne Noffke, O.P., one of the foremost experts on Catherine who is now hopefully hanging out with her in heaven. I had the gift of being able to use the translation to write my own book, thanks to living next to one of the greatest Catholic libraries in this country, but I’d like to have copies of my own. And last time I checked, it’s a sin to steal books from a library.

If you or someone you know has these sitting in their basement, I’m willing to pay good money for them… I just can’t afford 20k for the set. I do have a copy of Volume 1 of Suzanne Noffke’s first publications of the letters (circa 1988 - they’re maroon) but I’m specifically looking for these four volumes from 2000-2008 from the Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies.

As I mentioned, I’ve done a pretty good search of these online, so now I’m specifically looking down other avenues… and hoping that maybe my incredible social media reach (har har har) will help me.

Show me the love of God in a more obvious and vibrant way than a mother taking care of her child who depends on her - and may depend on her for the rest of his or her life. Show me an image of Our Lady more beautiful than a mother who loves her child unconditionally, even when the world sees only a cross.

If you get to know these women, you’ll find strength, courage, and joy. If you’re like me, you’ll also feel like a microscope has been handed to you to acutely see where you yourself need to grow. These women show us what it is to love the way God loves.

My cousin certainly mirrors Our Lady this week as she buries her oldest son, Nicholas. I remember clearly the day Nicholas was born - I am instantly taken back to the chapel at my alma mater, Christendom, where I was a student at the time. We gathered in the chapel for daily Mass, asking for prayers for Nicholas, who had been born so early his survival was unlikely.

Tiny Nicholas fought. And he continued to fight the rest of his life, battle after battle, infection after infection, through medical procedures and diagnoses.

And you know who else continued to fight? His mother.

Nicholas came into their lives early, when she and Ben were newlyweds and probably still trying to figure out life, much less marriage. A huge responsibility was put on their shoulders. And if they were scared, they didn’t show it. They simply kept saying yes. I Do. Perhaps people thought they were crazy, expanding a family when they had “their hands full” with Nicholas and his special needs. They didn’t see it that way … thank goodness. They welcomed more children into their family. Tiny Nicholas grew strong and tall and handsome. He graduated from high school with Seton Home Study School through a special needs curriculum. They grew their home into a homestead.

I don’t know how they do it. They have kids, they have animals, Ben is super successful doing something nuclear no one probably understands, Theresa runs marathons, their kids have awesome hobbies. Their life is not just full, it’s abundant. And it’s not despite the crosses. It’s because of the crosses.

One night, many many years ago, I was traveling for work near their home and Theresa invited me over for dinner. I had a full day of teaching the next day, but I hadn’t seen them in a long time - hadn’t even met some of the younger kids - and I gladly accepted the invitation.

Theresa might remember the night better than me. Her husband was traveling for work, so she had all the kids at home and was making dinner for me. I honestly don’t remember how many kids she had at this point, but let’s just say the house was full of life. Something happened - something hilariously awful, like one of the kids dumped the spaghetti sauce all over the counters. I honestly don’t remember. And I think that says something.

Because you know what I remember about the night? That house was filled with love.

We joked about me going home to a quiet hotel, back to my carefree single life. I am sure I felt relief as I left the…um…life in the house behind me.

But I felt the love much more profoundly. I was leaving a house brimming with the joy that comes when you say yes to a vocation. When you say “I Do” to the cross. The next day I showed up at a parish and taught some people about Jesus. But my cousin was teaching about him every day. By her life… and what is more, by her joy.

That’s what I remember that night. Sure, it must have been chaos. There was some crazy thing that happened. But what I remember that night was the love which had spread throughout the whole family. Because her children had learned what it was to love from her and Ben.

St. Catherine of Siena called it “continual prayer.” She was constantly reprimanding people who thought that prayer consisted only in saying some Pater nosters, or those people who made excuses not to leave their house to serve their neighbor because they needed to pray. She had very little time for those people. If we want to truly love God, we will love him in our neighbor. Our prayer does not just consist in the prayers spoken to him in our homes and churches; that prayer sends us out, if it’s truly motivated by love of God. That prayer is then lived as we work to provide for our families, do laundry for our spouse, lose sleep for our babies, and help those in need.

I talk a lot about holiness in the ordinary life. I write and speak about how we are called to be saints in our work, in our vocations, in daily tasks.

Theresa lived it.

The world will tell you that special needs children - and indeed, children in general - are crosses. Guess what? Absolutely they are. And that’s why they bring joy. That’s why the world needs them. Because we’re desperate for love. We’re desperate for joy. And those things are found in the Cross.

There is no love without suffering.

We live in a world that wants to rid the world of crosses. And in doing so, they create a nice comfortable chaos-free bubble … that is void of growth, love, and joy.

St. Maximilian Kolbe said, “The Cross is the school of love.” We live in a world that wants to skip school and is emerging ignorant and malformed, suffering because of their selfishness, pride, and fear.

Everyone has different trials. Ben and Theresa would probably be the first to say that the person down the street has suffered more than them. Perhaps it’s even the case that we see crosses and trials in their life where they don’t. Where the world saw a non-verbal young man who needed care and support, they saw a young man whose smile lit up the room, who enjoyed P. G. Wodehouse and C.S. Lewis and music, who loved God and his family, and who graduated from high school despite hurdles that would have stopped most of us.

In the end, cross comparison is dumb. We all are carrying something, or have carried something, or will carry something. And when we do, we have a choice. We can try to put it down, we can try to exchange it, we can complain and ask God “why?!” and mope. Or we can embrace it and find the joy and love that is waiting for us there.

In your mercy, please pray for Ben and Theresa and their children as they mourn the loss of Nicholas and celebrate the great gift that his life was…and is. I don’t doubt that he’s still a fighter, and now he will fight to get his family to join him in heaven someday.

My cousin Theresa is a writer. I am sure Nicholas’ obituary was the most difficult thing to come from her pen, but it is also the most beautiful. (you can read it here.)

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Looking ahead to October, the registration date for my pilgrimage to Poland has been extended, but we’re about to close it - so if you’re on the fence, please come! I would love to pilgrimage with you.

details here

A few pilgrims joined me on Sunday to pray the Divine Mercy chaplet, which we’ll continue monthly until we leave. If you’re on the trip, you received an email from me about a fun referral bonus we’re offering right now. (if you didn’t receive that email, let me know!)

Speaking of pilgrimage, I’m excited to be leading a small trip to the beatification of Fulton J. Sheen in St. Louis this September! I always have FOMO when it comes to historical events in the life of the Church, I love Sheen, and I pray for an ounce of his wisdom and wit, so I jumped at the chance to go.

We’ll be meeting in St. Louis, participating in the events there, and then taking a day trip up to Peoria to pray at his tomb. If you’re interested, I have a special offer just my community - you can join up with the pilgrimage I’m leading with The Pillar. Using coupon code WATSON750, you’ll get $750 off the price of the trip.

Sheen Pilgrimage

I started this post with the dire statement that today is not a good day for the Body of Christ. This morning, the Society of Pius X went ahead with the consecration of four bishops, despite Pope Leo’s plea and attempts at negotiation and reconciliation.

First, I would encourage everyone to fast today for the Bride of Christ and for Church unity. It was the prayer of Christ the night before he laid down his life for us, and the lack of unity in the Church should be a grave scandal to us.

“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you,
that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.
The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.”
(John 17:20-23)

Division ceases to alarm us. We’ve been drinking bad water for nearly a thousand years, and we have gotten used to it. We don't taste its nastiness anymore, and we certainly don't reflect on how it has affected us. I remember visiting a friend who had been living in a small city with air quality problems, and when I commented that I still couldn’t get used to the wretched smell of the air at night, she alarmingly admitted she no longer noticed it. I told her it was time to get out.

We no longer notice the smelly air because we’ve been breathing it so long.

This morning I saw comments on the consecrations that were simply pointing fingers at problems in the Church, as if problems in the Church were an excuse for this disobedience.

The Church is in need of reform. I’m not here to dispute that. But I don’t remember the correct answer to that ever being: “leave Peter.”

Peter is a stumbling block at times, absolutely. Peter is sinful. Peter is annoying and frustrating. Peter even makes decisions we might disagree with.

The answer has never been to leave him.

The Church is in need. That’s why we don’t abandon her.

As I said in Coached by Saint Catherine, reform in the Church does not begin by sowing division or anger. It doesn’t even begin with councils or synods. It doesn’t begin with writing letters like Catherine. It begins by reforming our own lives.

Sure, it’s usually easier to see the sins in the Church than my own. It’s easier to see what my neighbor - or my pastor or my bishop or the Pope - needs to do differently than what I need to do. “Perhaps we can see the blemishes in the life of the Church because we are a little removed from them and we have the opinions of a mere observer. Or maybe we know the sins in the Church because they have affected us directly, and we have the perspective of the wounded. Both perspectives are important. But both can leave us frustrated, hurt, and feeling a bit helpless.” (me, in Coached by Catherine)

Reforming the Church ain’t easy. You know why? Because it starts with reforming my own life. I should be more upset about my own sins than the sins of others, because I can do something about my own sins.

So pray and fast for the Church today. If you feel helpless in the face of the division, hatred, abuse, and confusion you see in the Body of Christ today, lean on the one thing you can do: pray and fast.

In some ways, Catherine faced a clearer schism in her day - so clear we gave it a name (The Western Schism). Two popes, later three popes, and plenty of confusion.

But we live with the division from our Protestant brothers and sisters and we act like it’s normal. We wake up today to news that the SSPX has become more adamantly entrenched in their division and we go about our day. We separate ourselves from Christ through sin and we hardly reflect on it.

The air is nasty, but we don’t notice.

Love the Bride. Even in her brokenness. Don’t abandon her.

I’ll tell you a secret: in the end, God wins.

“We see this bride all dismembered, but I trust that God’s supreme eternal goodness will restore her members healthy and no longer sick, fragrant and no longer putrid.” Saint Catherine of Siena

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Want more? grab a copy of Coached by Saint Catherine: Lessons in Charity.

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I knelt down and went after the first big weed I saw. The big ones were easiest to see and would be easiest to yank out, right? Easy.

Ha.

I gave it a quick pull and was rewarded with a handful of a few ripped leaves. The weed remained. Stubborn.

I tried again, thinking it was a fluke. Surely, it would give easily under a quick pull.

More leaves in my fist.

The roots were deep, stubborn, comfortably entrenched. Perhaps my quick yanks weren’t the answer. I tried a third time, working slower, my fingers working down into the soil, wiggling at the base, working the stem of the weed. Intentionally. Systematically. Slowly. I could feel the roots begin to give and release. It felt like progress.

Finally… pop. It was a satisfying feeling as the weed came out of the dirt, its long thick roots emerging covered in soil.

I realized this was going to take time. I settled down onto the ground, ready for this task to be longer than I first anticipated. I was going to do this with intention.

One type of weed was particularly prickly. Its points cut through my gardening gloves and made it hard to get a good enough grasp around it. But I couldn’t let that prickly pain stop me. The hurt was more annoying than lasting - I just needed to work through it.

Some little green sprouts were harder to discern. Were they friends or foes? Should I let them grow a little bit longer? Perhaps I would focus on the big ones for now. There would be time for the others. This wasn’t a task to be done once, after all. I’d be back.

Soon, the job became a bit easier. I got into the groove; I had learned how to best work out the big stubborn ones and used that knowledge to approach the others better. But it required diligence. Keep going, I told myself... somehow there were more weeds than I thought there were when I first began.

But it was worth it. The satisfaction of that “pop” when a particularly difficult one released its roots was so rewarding and pleasing, I wanted to keep going.

At the end of my time, it wasn’t perfect. There were still some things that would have to be dealt with another day. But I couldn’t let that discourage me.

It’ll have to be done again soon. But provided I don’t neglect it, next time it’ll be easier.

A nice story about my Saturday afternoon, right?

Or was it the story of my spiritual life?

As I tended my neglected flower beds this spring, it became obvious to me why Jesus taught in parables. The comparisons between those pesky, stubborn plants and my sins were plain as day.

Some sins are easy to eradicate from your life… until you realize you’ve only pulled out a few leaves. The roots are deeper and more firmly part of your habits, inclinations, and schedules. I can work on some visible manifestations of my pride without really working on the roots. I can even tackle sins without really knowing what lies underground, at their root. As soon as I think I’ve conquered that sin, it bursts forth in a different area of my life, in a different way, because the roots were deep and thick and had been allowed to grow for a long time.

Weeding once a spring by ripping off some leaves might make your garden look fine for a few days or even a week. But under the surface, you’re cultivating plenty of trouble. Real change requires real work.

Going to confession out of routine during Lent, without really examining your conscience well and without making a plan to work towards change, simply gives you a fistful of leaves. There’s grace and forgiveness, but habits are deep and concupiscence is real. Progress is hard.

Working on sins at their root takes time. It hurts. It requires patience, especially with yourself. It requires frequent Examens, which can be uncomfortable and inconvenient. It requires systematic attention, and at times it feels like the more progress you make the more sins you become aware of. But you have the best partner in this gardening work: God. Nothing is possible without him, because all we’re capable of doing ourselves is sowing more spurge.*

God can help us weed out the noxious things in our lives that are preventing the fruit and the flowers. It just requires time, suffering, and obedience.

*It was somehow satisfying to find out that some of my weeds had such a terrible name. Spurge. Purge the spurge.

Just a quick reminder that if you’ve read any of my books over the last few months or even year, your review on Amazon or Good Reads can really help others! I’m still giving away some little treasures from my pilgrimages as a thank you - head over to my last post for more details!

The novena leading up to St. Catherine of Siena’s feast day starts today! You can find several good options online. If you have one, share it in the comments.

• Discerning Hearts
  This one uses excerpts from her writings and has an audio version, too

• Pray More Novenas

• The Dominican Sisters of Malta

• Intercede App

A great way to prepare for the feast would be to read my new book, Coached by Catherine!

I need your help

I’m incredibly grateful that so many of you have purchased Coached by Catherine. Amazon didn’t anticipate the rush and sold out the day we launched. I know some of you are hearing that you might not get your copy from Amazon until mid-June, but Amazon tends to exaggerate arrival dates when this happens, so it’ll likely be in your hands much sooner. If you order from Scepter, they’ll ship your copy immediately.

Okay, this is where I need your help:

Leaving reviews on places like Amazon and Good Reads is a huge help for readers looking for their next read.

Would you be willing to leave a short review on either Amazon or Good Reads if you enjoyed Coached by Catherine? After all, without reviews, people judge books by covers, titles, and the little description that Amazon gives. But you can share what you liked about it, maybe what surprised you, who you think would benefit from it and why.

To thank everyone willing to leave me reviews, I’ll do a drawing once a month for the next three months and give a few lucky people a little curated box of fun things from pilgrimage. Each box will have a JPII medal from Rome when he was Pope, a holy card of Benedict blessed by him, a Miraculous Medal from Rue de Bac in Paris (in French, of course! and blessed by Benedict XVI a few days after he became Pope!!), a little wooden cross from the Holy Land, and a St. Benedict crucifix. Then there will be a surprise… you might get a journal, you might get a rosary from Fatima, you might get a Pax et Bonum magnet from Assisi, you might get something else cool I find in my box of treats. And then I’ll throw in a book - maybe one of the ones pictured below, because they fit the theme : )

All you have to do is leave a review, and one of these curated pilgrimage boxes could be yours!

This is not “compensating” you for your review (so you don’t have to check that on the Amazon review or indicate that you were compensated) - it is simply a way for me to thank you for taking that next step of helping someone find my book.

To enter the contest, just leave me a review (it can be for any of my books, on either Amazon or Good Reads - every single review gets an entry! So you could technically get six entries) and then shoot me an email at joan@joanwatson.faith or comment here on this Substack post that you left me a review. (this is important - I need to know for you to be entered into the drawing!)

At the end of April, May, and June I’ll do drawings! So if you don’t have time to read Catherine in the next ten days, that’s okay. There’s plenty of time!

Still talking about pilgrimage

In the middle of the Catherine excitement, my episode on Franciscan University Presents with Father Dave Pivonka, Dr. Scott Hahn, and Dr. Regis Martin became available over on YouTube. Some of you saw it when it was EWTN, but if you missed it then, here it is!

Thanks in advance for your reviews!

Now I’m off to go pray my novena prayer…

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The novena of Divine Mercy runs from Good Friday to Divine Mercy Sunday. It’s a big deal, people. Lots of mercy to be had! For you! For loved ones! For people you don’t know! We just have to ask.

You may know that I’m heading to Lithuania this October to pray in front of the original Divine Mercy image. You should come with me.

During this novena, anyone who signs up for my October pilgrimage is getting a free book, Making a Pilgrimage: A Companion for Catholics.

Yep, I’m just handing out free books. If you’re on the fence, it’s time to hop off. Come to Lithuania and Poland. Sign up this week, and get a free book.

Poland/Lithuania in October

But that’s not it. (“Wait, theres’s more!”) Anyone who signs up this week gets entered into a raffle to win a copy of Peggy Noonan’s book John Paul the Great.

So there you go. Come on pilgrimage with me. Be transformed by these sites, these saints, this pilgrimage. Get a free book. Maybe get two free books.

If you were waiting for a sign, this is it.

Vilnius. Krakow. Niepokalanów. Częstochowa. Auschwitz. Łagiewniki. Wadowice.

Come with us.

I will be going live on YouTube tomorrow at 2:15EDT/11:15PDT with my chaplain for the trip, Father Anselm, O.Praem. We’ll be talking about the trip and what we’re most excited about. Have questions about the trip? Join us!

Live here on 2/9

Next week, we’ll talk about Amazon reviews. In the meantime, happy Easter and Happy Divine Mercy Sunday!

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I thought Wednesday of Holy Week (Spy Wednesday, if you like cool niche Catholic terms) would be a hard day to launch a book, but if it’s good enough for Cardinal Pizzaballa, it’s good enough for me, too.

Seriously, friends: thank you so much. I know I’ve been filling your inboxes over the last week, and I promise to stop pestering you now. (Well, after I announce the contest next week for those who are willing to leave me some Amazon reviews… stay tuned!)

But thank you, thank you, thank you. We sold Amazon out today.

And while I might not be the #1 new release in Christian Preaching (Cardinal Pizzaballa has that honor), I was simply excited to have this pop up when I was looking at another page on Amazon today:

While I may be waiting to truly celebrate until after Easter, my heart is very fully tonight.

Thank you!

(And don’t worry - you can still order from Scepter or Amazon. Scepter has books ready to ship and Amazon will be shipping as soon as they get their act together and order more books!)

Order here!

For those of you in the South Bend area, I’ll be having a launch party where I wrote a large chunk of the book, so reach out if you want to join me!

Have a blessed Triduum, a happy Easter, and … once again, thank you.

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I promise I’ll soon stop filling your email box. Tomorrow is the day!

Preorder Here!

It’s the last day to use your promo code for Scepter - Catherine20!

Pre-order here!

Let’s be clear here. When people toss ideas around such as we’ve never seen darker times in the Church or that we’ve never faced scandals and failures in leadership like we’ve endured this last years, I have to point them to Catherine’s day. She dealt with some real doozies.

Are schisms still happening in the Church today? Sure. There’s a huge one we take for granted now, which started in 1517. And there are many others happening in people’s hearts and minds as they speak words of loyalty but tweet division and hatred.

If anyone found reason to bad-mouth the Church, it was Catherine. (Along with Joan of Arc, but that’s for another book.)

But she didn’t.

I have been disappointed and hurt by people in the Church. I have friends who have been abused. I have friends who have been slandered and abandoned by leaders that were supposed to be their fathers. The sexual abuse scandals, mismanagement and leadership failings, and public arguments among bishops and other Church leaders have Catholics across the globe feeling unmoored.

Is it naive to be in love with such an unloveable Church?

Is it foolish to evangelize and invite people to join a Church that has hurt you?

If you have been hurt by the Church, I am deeply sorry. You will not find all the answers in these pages. There is no story, definition, or Scripture verse that will make the hurt disappear or make complete sense of what happened to you.

But as a fellow earthen vessel, I pray that Catherine can help us love the Church even in her brokenness.

Preorder Here!

Don’t forget- these are the last few days to take advantage of the promo code CATHERINE20 on Scepter’s website to get 20% off!

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Preorder Links Here!

The subtitle of the book is Lessons in Charity because the book is broken down into three parts: love of God, love of neighbor, and love of the Church. In each part, Catherine gives us very concrete advice on growing in each area.

I was just in Siena a few days ago, and we had the great grace of being able to celebrate Mass in San Domenico, Catherine’s parish church. We were at Mass in the same place where the host leapt off the altar to come to her. We were praying where she frequently went into ecstasy. We just yards away from where Christ gave her His own heart.

Unfortunately, crowds of Italian teenagers found refuge from the rain in the church about midway through Mass, resulting in a dull roar throughout most of the Eucharistic prayer and communion.

As I struggled to pay attention and to not think ill thoughts about humanity, I was struck with the realization: these are the people that Catherine loved.

Love your neighbor.

I don’t know about you, but when I think about the difficult call to love my neighbor, I usually think of the extreme: loving my enemy. Loving the person who hurt me. Loving the worst, the wretched, the disgusting, the traitor.

And often I can pretend I’m succeeding at that because... well, frankly, I can just avoid those people and live my life away from them.

You know who might be even harder to love than the extreme–the “Samaritan,” the traitor, the enemy?

The banal and annoying people I encounter every day.

The Italian teenagers and tourists who wander around a sacred space with no reverence.

The person who smacked me in the head with his backpack on the airplane because he’s oblivious to his surroundings.

The person in front of me in the TSA line who tied up the entire line because he forgot to empty out his pockets.

The person who stands in the middle of the moving sidewalk so that no one can get around them.

The oblivious, annoying, irreverent, ignorant people who inconvenience me.

Those are the neighbor I’m supposed to love.

And it’s hard.

So preorder my book. Not because I have the answers, but because Catherine does–and maybe she can help us all.

Preorder Here

(And if you order from Scepter, don’t forget the code CATHERINE20 for 20% off!)

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Since saints in heaven don’t need birthday presents, I am going to give you a present instead… a glimpse inside the book!

And if you want to get me a present, head over to my website to preorder. (Or you can get me the four-volume Noffke translation of her letters, but I think that’s out of all of our price ranges…)

www.joanwatson.faith

From the Introduction to Coached by Catherine….

It can be tempting to become enamored with the mystics and the miraculous. The stigmata, mystical marriages with Christ, ecstatic prayer, levitation, and other phenomena are captivating stories in the lives of the saints. To focus on these, however, can distract us from what sainthood really entails. A one-dimensional study of the saints’ lives that focuses on the extraordinary can give us a false view that sanctity is something quite foreign to us and unattainable. When was the last time you levitated in prayer? I am lucky to sit in silence for five minutes without distraction or to keep my mind from wandering during Mass.

As St. Francis de Sales notes, there are often aspects of a saint’s life that may be admired but probably should not be imitated. As we will see in the life of St. Catherine, she would be the first to dissuade us from attempting to replicate her life exactly. We can learn from the saints’ practices and habits, but then we must discern what should be adopted and how those practices can be adapted to our particular lives, vocations, and times.

We can all admit that Catherine is in another league, whether we look at her mystical prayer, her intellectual understanding of the mysteries, her fortitude in preaching, or her “final martyrdom” for the Church. The danger in this admiration is that we dismiss all these things as impossible for us, rather than seeing ways we can learn from her, imitate her, and grow in holiness. Do not get discouraged or distracted by the fantastic, miraculous, or slightly odd aspects of Catherine’s life and spirituality to the point that you overlook what is imitable: consistent daily prayer, offering up suffering, love for the Eucharist, enduring gossip and false witness, serving neighbors, and loving the Church.

Catherine would first tell you not to simply become a carbon copy of herself. Rather, in a lengthy letter to Jacomo Tondi, a Carthusian monk, she reminds us that the paths to holiness are varied. She cautions against the tendency to judge those who are living differently than we are. Rather than insisting everyone live the way of holiness we have decided is correct, we must be humble enough to understand that God has different gifts and plans for different people.

The blessed Christ said, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.” And what words could describe all the different ways and visitations and gifts and graces God uses, not only in many people but even in a single soul? . . . One virtue is special to this person and another to another person, and around this principal virtue they attract all others. . . . Such are their varied ways and habits, and yet they are running along the path of charity—but in different ways. They are not all the same. There are differences even in the angelic nature; the angels are not all the same. And so among the other delights we will have in eternal life will be seeing God’s greatness in his saints, in all the varied ways they are rewarded. . . . So it is really foolish and stupid to want to make people go our own way and to take scandal at those who don’t walk as we think they should. We shouldn’t, then, fall into . . . judgment. No, we should be happy and hold in reverence the ways and habits of God’s servants, humbly saying within ourselves, “Thank you, Lord, for all the many ways and paths you give your creatures to follow!” (Catherine to Jacomo)

What else would Catherine tell us? If we could turn to her for spiritual direction, what would she advise us to do? In many cases, we do not have to wonder. Catherine left behind almost four hundred letters3 written to a variety of people, from government officials, craftsmen, husbands, and wives to hermits, female religious, and popes. Catherine had sage advice to share with all of them. At times, the advice was the same, regardless of vocation or social standing, because all of us are called to be saints. And at its root, that means we are called to love.

We are called to love God, to love our neighbor, and to love the Church. While these loves are in essence one, we will examine them as three for the sake of better understanding why and how we are called to love. Catherine’s life mirrors this threefold division. Her first years of young adulthood were spent in relative seclusion, living a life of prayer and penance in the cell of her home in Siena. After an intense mystical experience that seemed to leave her dead, God sent her into the world to love her neighbor by caring for the poor, preaching the truth, and mediating peace and reform. At the end of her life, with another intense mystical experience that once again seemed to leave her lifeless, she offered her life in prayer and sacrifice for love of the Church.

In addition to her letters, Catherine also left us twenty-six prayers and her Dialogue, which she simply called “my book.” The Dialogue was transcribed by her followers from conversations she had with God the Father in ecstasy. Many of the prayers have the same origin. While these will certainly be referred to in this work, the majority of Catherine’s advice that we will explore will come from her letters. You and I may never have moments of ecstasy in prayer. But chances are, we have received a letter. So let’s listen to hers.

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If you don’t, I need a pep talk from you. Because frankly, the problems in the world seem ridiculously large and I feel ridiculously small.

Social media is full of hot takes about who and what is wrong. There’s no room for nuance or complexity or further discussion. People are building communities around their hot takes, becoming entrenched in their opinions and vilifying those who disagree.

Wars in the world, wars in the Church, wars on social media.

If you feel small, frustrated, or powerless… you’re not alone.

What’s the answer?

Prayer. Gratitude. Charity.

Reforming the world seems impossible, and reforming the Church equally so. But what about reforming… me?

Maybe it all begins with a simple recognition: God is He Who Is. I am she who is not.

And from there, we learn to pray. To cultivate gratitude. To love our neighbor.

If you’re feeling little and powerless, you’re not alone. But maybe Catherine of Siena has an answer.

preorder Coached by Catherine

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I knew so many women who loved her and admired her, and it was natural for me to join their ranks. After all, she was worthy of admiration to the point of awe.

But I didn’t really get her. Why? Because she was painted as this fiery woman who told the Pope what to do. She was invoked by people who were angry at the leadership in the Church and demanding significant changes, even to doctrine. On the other side, she was portrayed as this mystical virgin whose prayer life was totally inimitable and unrelatable. I wanted to feel like she was my friend, but she remained distant.

So when I was approached about writing a book a female saint, I jumped at the chance to get to know her better.

Thanks to the incredible work of Suzanne Noffke, I had access to hundreds of Catherine’s letters. I spent last year entering into the world of Catherine, listening to her reprimand and chastise…but more importantly (and much more often!), love and encourage.

Every letter I read, my heart yearned for more people to know the true Catherine. The witty Catherine, humble Catherine, kind and patient Catherine. The Catherine on fire with love for the Church at a time when it was extremely difficult to love.

That’s the Catherine I hope you meet through my book.

Have you ever found the saints hard to relate to?

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Don’t mind me, just trying to write three books in three years and need to take every moment I can…

Random bonus link:

While this isn’t “To Tell the Truth,” but “What’s My Line?" - after I wrote the subject line to this email, I remembered this video and had to go back and watch it. Maybe saints aren’t so unrelatable after all!

3 books in 3 years is a grace I never saw coming. I also never saw this particular book coming - and yet I am so incredibly excited for you to have it in your hands. Catherine of Siena is amazing, but in ways so many people miss. I can’t wait to introduce you to my friend.

I’ll tell you more in the coming days, but as we’re approach the final countdown to release (it hits shelves April 1!) I wanted to tell you about a discount code that Scepter is offering for my community. (…Do books still ‘hit shelves’?)

20% off with the promo code CATHERINE20 for pre-orders only.

That means you want to head over to my website and follow the Scepter link and use CATHERINE20 for your preorder!

www.joanwatson.faith

If you don’t care about preorder codes, you can also head to my website to find the Amazon link, too. (Honestly, this helps Scepter and me as well, since it signals to Amazon that the book will be in demand at the time of release. So don’t feel too guilty.)

Spread the word, too! Whether you know someone who loves St. Catherine already or simply someone looking to learn how to love better, pray better, and be a better human… this is a book for them.

What if one of the Church’s most fiery mystics could mentor you in prayer, charity, and holiness, right where you are?

Walk alongside St. Catherine of Siena as she teaches you how to grow in love of God, neighbor, and the Church. Drawing deeply from her letters and prayers, this book brings Catherine’s bold wisdom into your daily life—not as a distant mystic to admire, but as a spiritual coach who meets you in your struggles and calls you to rise above them.

And the event that occurred today, in 1380, is proof why. Catherine had moved to Rome at the request of Urban VI, to support him during the rebellion of the French cardinals and the subsequent election of a rival claimant to the Chair of Peter, what we now call the Western Schism.

Catherine spent the month of February in 1380 in daily pilgrimage to St. Peter’s to pray for unity in the Church. She was very sick and could barely get out of bed, but she made the penitential pilgrimage and spent each day in the basilica in prayer. I’ll let my upcoming book on Catherine tell the rest:

During this time, the people of Rome took up arms against Urban and mobbed the Vatican, but then seemingly changed their minds mid-siege when Urban opened the gates and faced them unarmed. They submitted to him and left. Was this a result of Catherine’s prayer?

In the original Constantinian basilica of St. Peter, there was a mosaic by Giotto depicting the call of Peter by his fishing boat, lovingly called la Navicella (little ship). On February 26, during one of her daily pilgrimages, Catherine fell to the floor of St. Peter’s in agony. She would later describe experiencing the navicella as a crushing burden on her shoulders, pressing her to the ground. Her disciples had to carry her back home. She lay paralyzed and would never leave her home again, dying two months later.

from Coached by Catherine of Siena: Lessons in Charity

Catherine gave her life for the Church. She always dreamt of being a martyr. It had almost come to fruition in Florence, when a mob burst into the home where she was staying, in hopes of killing her. She wept when they did not follow through on their plan.

She would get her wish at a different time, in a different way. She would pour out her life in penance for the broken, wounded, hurt Church. A Church wracked with scandals and questionable leadership decisions and sins. A Church most of us would be reluctant to obey, much less love.

I’m heading to Rome next month, and I will stand in front of the replica of La Navicella, a mosaic copy that is now in the vestibule of the basilica above the middle doors. I will pray for Pope Leo, for the Church, for those who of us who have been hurt by Her, for those of us who struggle to obey Her, for those of us who struggle to love Her. I will pray for unity and peace in Her so that we can be a light to the nations. And I will pray for even a tiny amount of the fiery passionate love that Catherine had for Her.

I have much, much more to say about Catherine and the spiritual life (or rather…she has more to say to us). If you’ve gotten this far in this post, I have a gift for you - 20% off my book when you preorder it from Scepter with the discount code CATHERINE20.

I’ll be announcing it in the coming days, but you can preorder now. (And should!)

It’s also over on Amazon, so feel free to preorder there too (but without a discount link). You’ll find links to both on my website.

www.joanwatson.faith

In the South Bend area? Stay tuned for plans for my book release party, too!

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It is a story I wanted to include in my book Making a Pilgrimage. I didn’t omit it because I didn’t have room or because it didn’t fit…I simply forgot to write it. I was pretty bummed when I realized it, because it’s about one of my favorite saints.

One pilgrim went to Lourdes in January of 1930 to entrust his future mission efforts to Our Lady. He was toiling night and day in evangelization, had founded the largest Franciscan friary in the world, and begun the most forward-thinking Catholic media outlet in the world… but wanted to do more. He wanted to go to Asia. That would require a lot of permissions and a lot of money. So he went on pilgrimage to ask Our Lady and the saints to help him.

Saint Maximilian Kolbe is best known, perhaps, for his death: his martyrdom of charity in the work camp of Auschwitz, his heroic gift of self to replace another in the starvation bunker, his stunning act of light in the midst of so much darkness.

But we do Maximilian a disservice to only know about his death. The love he showed in his death–love of God, love of neighbor, love of enemy–was only possible because he practiced that love and cultivated that love every day. To only stress the death of the saints is to make them feel distant and unrelatable.

When we read Maximilian’s letters, we see his utter faith and trust in God and Our Lady. We see a life lived in humble submission to the Will of God, but also burning zealously for souls. We see a man we can imitate.

On January 30, 1930, he wrote to his brother Alfons on the back of a postcard depicting the Grotto at Lourdes:

Dear Brother!

I already celebrated the Holy Mass in the Basilica of Lourdes, but the dearest place is the one illustrated on this postcard. The Basilica is graceful, beautiful, but it was built by the hand of man. In the cave, however, the action of the Immaculata is recognized and here one prays incessantly.

Memento.

Br. Maximilian

When one kneels at the Grotto at Lourdes, you can tangibly feel the presence of Our Lady. It’s impossible to describe; those of you who have experienced it know what I’m talking about.

You also are keenly aware of the millions of prayers that have been prayed here before you. The pilgrims from various times, vocations, classes, and countries who have knelt here and entrusted Our Lady with the pleadings of their heart.

When you kneel at the Grotto, you aren’t just kneeling where St. Bernadette knelt (although you should look for the little plaque that shows you where she did!). You are kneeling where St. Maximilian knelt. He prayed among a throng of pilgrims, unknown and unnoticed. No one praying next to him knew that this man would become one of the greatest saints of the 21st century. No one who passed him in the streets of Lourdes realized that a mere 11 years later he would suffer in Auschwitz and sacrifice his life for another.

Even today, we are living and praying among unknown saints. And when we go on pilgrimage, we walk in the footsteps of the saints - known and unknown - who have traveled ahead of us, while also being accompanied by future saints.

I have been thinking a lot about this aspect of pilgrimage lately. Pilgrimage is never a solo act. Maybe we know our companions well; maybe we only just met. But solo travel is not actually a reality. We always need others. And that is life, too. To be self-reliant leads ultimately to failure, often in a spectacular pride-ridden fall.

Some pilgrimage-of-life companions are here on earth, and some are interceding for us in heaven. The better acquainted we become with them, the more they can help us.

On February 1, Maximilian was writing his brother another note, this time from Lisieux. His letter begins with practical news about business affairs, as his trip through France seeking Our Lady’s help in the mission to Japan was mixed with some practicalities as well. But then in the postscript, we see yet another sweet reminder of saintly companionship:

Dear Brother!

I am writing from the room of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, in Buissonnets.

Yesterday, I handled our business in Paris. It was difficult to get a meeting with the director, but we must be satisfied with the 20% discount, given that the Salesians got barely 10%. The rest can be handled by letter. I will stop in Lisieux for only three hours, then I will leave immediately and without any detours, for Germany, via Paris.

May Thérèse, patroness of missions, take care of this.

Br. Maximilian

Among the furnishings of St. Thérèse (which are still in her house) there was also a chess set, for the consolation of our chess players. The atmosphere is very pleasant. And now, it is past noon. Maybe at one o’clock I will have a conversation with one of the three sisters of the Saint who reside in the monastery of Lisieux.

May the Immaculata remember everything.

The saints aren’t just stories on a page or fables to teach good habits. They aren’t just stained glass windows or statues or pious images. They were pilgrims who walked the same pilgrimage as we are today, with families and hobbies. They want to help us walk our pilgrimage today.

I want to introduce you to some of the saints that have become my great friends. And to do that, we’re going to walk where they walked. It’s not just about praying where St. Maximilian died (although we’ll do that), but about seeing where he worked and lived out his daily life. The church where he was a boy. The friary where he printed his magazine and started his radio show.

It’s about walking the streets that Karol Wojtyla walked, seeing the place he was born, touching the places he touched long before he was John Paul II.

It’s about kneeling in front of the icons of Our Lady of Czestochowa and Our Lady Mother of Mercy where countless pilgrims have knelt before us.

Come with me. Maybe you’ve never thought of going to Lithuania and Poland. I promise that you won’t regret it. Meet new friends, in heaven and on earth. Be reminded of God’s love and mercy through the saints and the heroic history of the people of Lithuania and Poland.

One more fun fact: Maximilian Kolbe was healed through Lourdes water when he was twenty-years old. He had an injury to his right finger that wouldn’t heal. The doctors advised amputation, which would threaten his ability to say Mass. After Lourdes water was poured on it, it was healed.

I mentioned I’ve been thinking of the companionship aspect of pilgrimage a lot lately. Part of it is because I’m talking about it in a parish mission I’m prepping for right now. Something else that prompted it was the feast of St. Agatha and how connected she is to another saint:

Follow me on Instagram for other reels about pilgrimages in the coming days and weeks.

If you’ve made it this far, you’re rewarded with the news that my third book is coming out very soon. More to come, but here’s your hint:

Unless you live in Australia, January probably equals the dark night of the soul.

While I’m grateful I still come home to my Christmas tree, for much of the world, gone are the cheery Christmas lights, gone are the echoes of carolers, gone is the warmth of expectation and feasting. Many people who once hoped for a white Christmas now groan when the forecast calls for precipitation.

It’s no wonder that C.S. Lewis made Narnia under the spell of the evil White Witch “Always winter, never Christmas.”

It has snowed every day since I can remember, sometimes dumping a foot at a time and sometimes only a few inches. (You know you live in the north when you say, “It’s ‘just’ supposed to snow four inches today…”) Every single day, white stuff comes from the sky. Sometimes it’s pretty and sometimes it’s annoying, depending on whether I am sitting at work or sitting at home.

We have run out of places to put the snow while plowing our driveway, and I have to tell myself I probably will not see grass until March.

Winter of the Soul

As I fought through the ice and snow on the roads this morning (my car ignoring both my foot on the brake and the red light as it calmly slid into an intersection…) I thought about Francis de Sales’ words about winter in the soul:

“All of the seasons of life come together in the soul. Sometimes we feel winter’s sterility, distraction, distaste, and boredom, sometimes spring’s dew, with the fragrance of holy blossoms, and sometimes a burning desire to please our good God… We want it always to be spring and summer, but there must be vicissitudes of the interior life as well as the exterior.”

(Roses Among Thorns: Simple Advice for Renewing Your Spiritual Journey by St Francis de Sales, edited and translated by Christopher O. Blum)

As much as we’d like to always bask in the warmth of a spiritual comforts and enjoy an easy time praying and being in the presence of God, anyone journeying in the spiritual life will hit winter at some point. Prayer will be hard, meditation will be a struggle, and the temptation to abandon all efforts will be real.

Some of these winters are self-imposed. Others are from God. In both, I’ll be tried and tested to love the Creator and not the simply the seasons. I’ll be reminded to love the Giver of the gifts and not simply the gifts themselves.

Do I pray because I love God or because I love the way it makes me feel?

It’s much easier to be a saint during a weekend retreat than it is in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. It’s easier to smile during Christmas than during Ordinary Time. It’s easier to love God when my prayer life is full of consolations than when my prayer life is dry. But what is measure of my love? What it looks like in springs and summers? Or what it looks like in the dead of winter? This is true for human relationships as well as our love of God.

“I rather disliked the feeling”

Returning to the winter of Narnia, there’s an interesting parallel in C.S. Lewis’ account of his conversion. In Narnia, when Aslan returns (and with him, Father Christmas), the White Witch’s days are numbered and the snow and frost begin to melt as spring begins to show its face. In Surprised by Joy, Lewis uses this same melting imagery to describe the slow and steady process as he begins to leave his life of atheism.

“I felt as if I were a man of snow at long last beginning to melt. The melting was starting in my back—drip-drip and presently trickle-trickle. I rather disliked the feeling.”

For such a difficult and momentous conversion, I first found his description to be rather underwhelming. The passage does not detail some thunderous realization, some earth-shattering moment, but a process where once a step was taken in a direction, it was hard to avoid the next. It was not a dramatic firework. Rather, the snow melted – slowly, surely – and springtime came.

That’s life. Sure, we’d rather have the earthshaking moments in prayer where we are assured of God’s presence. And we’d obviously rather only have springtimes and summers in prayer. Sometimes we get all of that.

But more often it’s a slow process. Most conversions don’t happen overnight. Many answers to prayer don’t come quickly. It’s a painful process of change, of waiting, of growth.

I want answers now. I’ve been praying for a certain intention for awhile, and it’s feeling like He stopped listening. But maybe He wants me to be challenged and tested. Maybe He wants me to grow.

Growth is painful, God. I want the snow to melt, I want my prayers answered, I want to be holy. NOW.

But instead, I get the drip-drip. The waiting. The winter.

Can I love and persevere in the waiting for spring? Can I have confidence that God is still working- even in the coldness, even in the darkness, even when all seems quiet?

For those of us experiencing a cold January, there’s hope ahead. The days will get longer, sunrises will come sooner, and before too long, the crocus will be poking out of the cold earth. Until then, we remain faithful in the winter. He’s here too.

But where sin increases, grace abounds all the more.

As Hitler and Stalin rose to power, Our Lord was already offering his mercy for what was about to happen. He was already giving us the doorway to mercy and peace.

The story of Poland in the 20th century is the story we all need right now: that God’s grace triumphs; that his mercy is greater than any sin; that the crosses and pain of life are the fires in which greatness is forged.

I grew up on these stories: St. Maximilian Kolbe, St. Faustina, and St. John Paul II. And now it’s time to walk in their footsteps, to pray where they prayed, and to ask for mercy and courage and strength.

We can’t understand the 20th century without understanding their stories.

Ocean of Mercy Pilgrimage

Tonight I’m hosting a short Zoom call to walk through the itinerary of my October pilgrimage. I’d love to see you there. And don’t worry, if you just want to join with your camera off so you can dedicate half your attention to the National Championship game, that’s okay too. My goal is to be finished talking about the trip with plenty of time to see most of the game and celebrate a Hoosier victory.

Monday, January 19 7:30pmET

Register for tonight

I’ll also be recording the meeting tonight, so feel free to register so you can watch the recording later.

For those of you who haven’t traveled with me, remember that my pilgrimages include information and formation before the trip (including emails from me and a Zoom meeting to answer all your last minute questions!), as well as a great chaplain with daily Mass on the trip, and my reflections.

If you don’t know much about these saints, don’t worry– I’m here to share my love for them. It’s time we view the history of the last century through the lens of these three saints.

Tonight you’ll find out

• Why Lithuania?

• What church am I most excited to visit?

• Why did I alter the standard itinerary for one of the days?

See you there!

Then I spent months praying with the door before it opened. It became “my” door.

I watched on television as Pope Francis opened the door on Christmas Eve (sitting in the same place where I had watched JPII open the door in 2000).

I walked through the door a dozen or so times, not thinking to count them, but each time trying to do so intentionally and prayerfully, relishing the ability to touch the panels I have come to love so much.

The last time I walked through the door, just a few weeks ago, I didn’t know it was my last time. I assumed there would be one more trip to St. Peter’s before I flew home, one more chance to walk through.

Now I sit and watch Pope Leo close them. There won’t be another chance to enter through “my” doors for 8 more years.*

If only I had known it was my last time. If only I had taken the opportunity one more time…

Those were the thoughts I had on the plane ride home. A few weeks later, I realize that it’s fine. Next time, I will be able to stand in front of the panels unhurried by guards and unhindered by crowds. The front of the door will still be visible, the images of mercy and hope remaining with us.

As I wrote in Opening the Holy Door, “While the Jubilee years are profound and unique times in the Church’s history, and the Holy Door of St. Peter’s Basilica remains open for only a short time, the bronze panels of this door are always visible to pilgrims, mutely testifying to the hope of Christ” (p. xviii).

Perhaps this Jubilee of Hope is ending differently than you thought it would. Maybe there are prayers that remain unanswered. Maybe you have regrets. If only I had…

Maybe 2025 didn’t feel like a Jubilee Year to you, a year full of freedom. Maybe you’re still carrying the Cross. Maybe you’re still waiting.

Believe me, I have several prayer intentions that are still siting on God’s desk. It feels like they got buried under a stack of thank you cards from other pilgrims. Or maybe they fell off and are lost until his office gets dusted.

But the holy door wasn’t a magic portal; the Jubilee wasn’t a vending machine.

This year was supposed to be a reminder that we need hope. And that hope is not going to come from a political leader or a government. We need a hope that is not going to be found in society or culture. Our hope is only found in God.

That doesn’t end as the door closes.

There’s no need for regrets–there’s still time. There’s still mercy. There’s still hope.

Remember: “This is not simply a door in a church for pilgrims to Rome. It is a threshold for all of us on the pilgrimage of life, choosing to walk forward with hope in Christ, even when we cannot see the Resurrection through the darkness of suffering today” (p. 100).

I desire that this Jubilee Year has been a time of great grace, a return to the sacraments, and a reception of the freedom and release that only God can give. Not necessarily freedom from worldly headlines or tragedies, nor from personal sufferings or crosses, but freedom from the despair and the burden of sin.

Jubilee graces have been poured out. Prayers have been answered. And if you’re still waiting for answers… well, the grace might be that those particular prayers aren’t answered, and that the Lord invites us to continue to carry our cross with him. If that is the case, I know he will give us the grace not only to carry it, but to hope in it.

If you haven’t had the chance to get my first book, it may seem silly to buy a book for a year that is over. But guess what? Opening the Holy Door isn’t just about a Jubilee Year. It’s about hope. It’s about heaven.

When I was first asked to write a book about the Jubilee, I was reluctant because I didn’t want to write a book for a year. I wanted to write a book that could be picked up in 2026 or 2055. I wanted to write a book for someone who was going to Rome and for someone who wouldn’t leave their house.

Maybe it makes sense, then, that my second book, Making a Pilgrimage, isn’t just for people flying overseas or planning a big trip. In fact, once again, I wrote a book for someone who was going to Rome and for someone who wouldn’t leave their house.

Because all of us are pilgrims. As the Pope prayed this morning, “at the end of our earthly pilgrimage, we may knock at the door of your house with confidence and taste the fruits of the tree of life.”

The Holy Door book isn’t just about the door in Rome, but ultimately about the door to the Father’s house.

The pilgrimage book isn’t just about trips to Rome, but ultimately about the pilgrimage of life.

You can find links to my books and all sorts of other things on my website, joanwatson.faith.

If you are looking to leave your house, though, I’d highly recommend coming on pilgrimage with me to Poland this October. I’m pretty excited about this trip, because I’m looking forward to meeting up with three old friends: St. Maximilian, St. Faustina, and St. John Paul II.

If you’re interested in finding out more about this trip (including hearing why I chose Poland and why I chose to go in October), you should join me on Zoom on Monday, January 19 at 7:30pmET. We’ll talk about the itinerary and you can get answers to your questions.

Register for the Zoom here:

Sneak Peek Meeting

Or if you just want the details, you’ll find them here:

Pilgrimage to Lithuania and Poland

Happy Epiphany, all!

*While the next Ordinary Jubilee Year will be 2050, 2033 will be an Extraordinary Jubilee Year to celebrate the bimillennium of our redemption. Which will be amazing and grand and give us lots of chances to say “bimillennium.”

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It wasn’t a complaint, per se… but definitely a lament. Either way, I know what you’re thinking: that complaint/lament sounds pretty darn spoiled. Oh, poor baby. Are we supposed to be feel sorry for you?

But let me explain. Rome is an incredible city in any season, and it’s particularly lovely at Christmas. The last two years I was in Rome during January, and because of Rome’s nativity scenes and Christmas lights -and the lack of crowds- it has almost surpassed fall as my favorite season in the Eternal City.

Some of those things are also enjoyed in December (since Roman nativity scenes take a few weeks to construct, you at least see the beginnings!), so I knew it would be a great time to be in Rome. It was actually an intentional choice on the group leaders to lead this trip during the season of Advent, and it was a great choice.

So why the lament?

First and foremost, I knew it would throw a lot of my prayer routines and usual Advent spiritual practices out of whack. For those of you who have spent time in Rome, you know that it’s a surprisingly difficult city in which to pray. Or rather, your prayer probably looks quite different in Rome, as it should on any pilgrimage… And that’s a topic big enough for another post.

Pilgrimage looks different than everyday life. It calls us to adapt… and that means even our spiritual practices. It doesn’t mean our rituals at home are bad; on the contrary, I am a huge fan of rituals and I believe a good solid spiritual life depends on them. But generally, pilgrimage requires us to break from them, to adapt them, because God is giving us something different for a moment.

So I knew my Advent would start off differently, even spiritually, because I was on pilgrimage (and in charge of 70 pilgrims…)

Secondly, I knew it could threaten to throw off my routines and usual Advent practices out of whack even after I returned home. I knew I would come home feeling “behind” on everything at home. While we don’t decorate the house until Gaudete Sunday weekend, I’d be returning home jetlagged and thrown right into that weekend, with a house that probably needed cleaned, laundry that needed done…

The long and short of it: I was given an incredible grace this Advent.

And my instinct was to lament that it was going to cause disruption in my favorite season of the year.

I’m typing this all out so that it becomes clear how ridiculous that is.

How often are we attached to good, holy things…our way of praying, our routine, our Mass times, our pastor, our pious traditions…but all of those things are only instruments. Sometimes we have to let go of them- not because they’re bad, but because they are only instruments. And sometimes we have to break from them, to adapt them, because God is giving us something different for a moment.

I love Advent. Was it the same this year? No. My morning prayer routine was off, I didn’t preach a single parish mission (the first time in close to ten years!), I didn’t send out my O Antiphon meditations, and a million other things fell to the side.

But I went through the Holy Doors one last time, and I pilgrimaged with 70 amazing human beings who love Christ and His Church.

And God is still near. Marantha, Come, Lord Jesus!

I promised you in my last Substack post that I would give you a story that didn’t make it to the pilgrimage book. Surprise, surprise- life took a few turns and I never sent that post out. So that story is coming, just in a little bit… probably around February 11.

But in the meantime, if there’s someone on your Christmas list you forgot, my latest book makes a great Epiphany present. Don’t forget, it’s 15% off through the end of the year for my community (that’s you!) with the promo code PILGRIMAGE15.

Know of my prayers this Christmas! And for those of you in my online community Living 1 John 1, while I wasn’t able to pull together a bible study this month, there’s something else coming your way in the next two days, so stay tuned.

PS Want to come with me on pilgrimage? You should come with me on my Ocean of Mercy Pilgrimage to Lithuania and Poland next year.

October 13-23, 2026

Want more information? Join me on Zoom on Monday, January 19 at 7:30pmET to learn why I chose Poland for my next trip, walk through the itinerary, and get answers to your questions!

Register here for the Zoom

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