Hello, hello little flock! I am back in the coop on this beautiful Monday, and I am so excited because Good Friday Sister officially drops this FRIDAY! It is a BIG week here in the Phelps house, God be praised!

Here’s how to not miss out on all the upcoming goodness:

1. Subscribe to my website (for news, freebies, and updates)

2. Subscribe to Good Friday Sister (On Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Substack)

3. Become (or upgrade to be) a paid Subscriber (Paid Subscribers will receive BONUS episodes)

And please, please, please (and know that I am so, so, so grateful) …help me to reach as many women as possible by sharing the podcast trailer AND leaving a 5 star rate and review. (If three episodes in you regret leaving five stars, offer it up for the conversion of sinners and the poor souls in Purgatory who have nobody to pray for them.)

Okay…let’s get in the coop and have a little chat, shall we?

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While on retreat a few weeks ago, I walked into the bathroom and overheard an elderly woman lamenting over the state of our world.

“This world is going to hell!”

Her friend snapped back, “Now, Judy, remember, no negativity today. We are on retreat!”

I walked into a stall, shut the door, and smiled.

Also, I agreed with Judy.

Leaving the retreat, I reflected on my own negativity and made the conscious decision to spend less time on my phone (negative) and more time in God’s Word (positive). Little good comes from time on my phone, unless you think that scrolling through reels of dogs in costumes for hours is a good use of my time, and then, in that case, I’m crushing it. I chose to immerse myself in the first chapter of the Gospel of John, focusing on John the Baptist. It was Bishop Barron’s interview with Shia LaBeouf that piqued my curiosity. Cast as Padre Pio, actor Shia LaBeouf experienced a powerful conversion to the Catholic faith while preparing for the role. He speaks of the pain of his past, the beauty of the Mass, and his intrigue with John the Baptist. Referring to him as “an old, rustic western character,” LaBeouf was drawn in by this forerunner’s strength and masculinity. I scratched my head and wondered, What Bible translation is this guy using?

In all of my years as a Catholic, which is quite literally all of my years, I can’t say that I ever used these words to describe John the Baptist. He never reminded me of a manly man, but more like the strange kid in my elementary school that picked spiders off the window sills and ate them. Maybe it was the camel hair shirt and diet of honey and locusts that prevented me from noticing his “leading man” qualities. Hard to say. In any case, I was ready to dive into the gospel story and meet this wild and rugged guy.

Time spent on the Jordan with John and his disciples was eye-opening. He never sought praise for himself, making it very clear: “I am not the Christ” (John 1:20). As I meditated on his mission and purpose, I was struck by his humility and love for the Lord. His sole purpose was to decrease his popularity so as to increase Jesus’ name. In a world that counts followers as badges of honor and marks of self-worth, I found this refreshing. This might be the only case where “losing followers” is not seen as a personal failure but as a win for the Kingdom of God. He wasn’t out to build a platform or to win a popularity contest, and he stood up for the very things the world is denying today: Christ and the truth.

And marriage.

Did you ever consider how John the Baptist lost his head as a witness to the truth about marriage? Until it was pointed out to me in a church bulletin, I had not once made this connection. John the Baptist spoke up when he saw sin, no matter how unpopular, uncomfortable, or inconvenient it was. And dare I say, losing one’s head is pretty inconvenient. He defended the sacrament of Marriage and was not about to stay silent or pretend that what Herod was doing (taking his brother’s wife while he was still alive) was okay (Mark 6:18). He didn’t lose his life because Herod had too much to drink, made a stupid promise, and then caved under peer pressure (Mark 6:21–29). He lost his life for preaching the truth.

Can we say the same?

Do we publicly defend our faith, or does fear of being canceled keep us silent?

Do we point out sin when we see it, be it in ourselves or our loved ones?

Do we avoid uncomfortable situations at all costs, especially when we see our loved ones living in a manner that is contrary to God’s will?

We tend to write off the hard sayings in Scripture as words intended for way back then and definitely not for right now. Certainly, when Jesus says to sell everything you have (Matthew 19:21), He is not serious! Obviously, when He says to “leave the dead to bury their own dead” (Luke 9:60), He doesn’t mean it!

I disagree.

And so does Saint Paul, as we read in 2 Timothy 4:1–2:

“I charge you in the presence of God and Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and kingly power: proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient, convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching.”

There will come the day when each of us stands before God, and we will be judged. For those who struggle with this charge from Saint Paul, for fear or inconvenience, perhaps keeping judgment day before our eyes will hold us accountable. I also encourage you to break open the Gospel of John and take a trip to the Jordan. Spend some time learning from John the Baptist, and ask yourself these questions:

What keeps me from proclaiming the word?

Do I shine a spotlight on myself or on Jesus?

What drives what I do? Is it the number of followers I gain for myself, or the number of followers I lose for Christ?

Am I willing to lose my head for Jesus?

The world needs more disciples like John the Baptist. I won’t be looking to wear a camel hair shirt because I can barely stand the tag on the back of my dress. Nor do I have any desire to serve locusts for dinner, although with the price of groceries these days, you never know. Nevertheless, I am encouraged by this wild prophet. I am praying for humility like his, along with the grit and strength needed to go on out into this self-focused world, whether I feel like it or not, and proclaim the truth.

And what about you? How far will you go to preach the truth?

I pray that we can all follow in the footsteps of John the Baptist while keeping our heads firmly attached to our necks. We’ve got a world that needs Jesus, sisters.

Let’s not let Judy down.

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Re-posted from the Walking with Purpose website

It was the dead raccoon that confirmed my suspicions. But before I tell you about that, let me tell you about this.

Thanks be to God for blind obedience, Our Lady’s protection, and the Spirit of the Holy Ghost, who moved over the waters of my mind and breathed life into what is now, the Good Friday Sister podcast: a podcast consecrated to The Virgin Mary under the title of Our Lady Sorrows; a ministry I place daily in her hands, and belongs to Her. A labor of love I will trust to her completely on September 15, the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows.

Fiat voluntas tua.

But unholy curiosity and useless thinking leads me to wonder: do people think I left the Hope For Right Now podcast so that I could be the “star”of my own podcast? “Saint Laura” doesn’t dare waste time on such a thought; she doesn’t care what people think. “Sinner Laura” on the other hand is easily tangled up by questions to which we have no answers, and willingly chooses to ruminate on such to the point of feeling sick. On the other hand,“root-sin-vanity Laura” cares what people think. A lot. But in total transparency, I can honestly say, while perhaps lingering in the back of my mind, I did not leave one for the other. In fact, when suggested by many, including my former co-host, that I could “start my own” the technology and production side immediately cancelled out any creative possibility.

I have zero tech skills. ZERO. Purgatory for me will be a spreadsheet.

If there are regrets about leaving the Hope For Right Now podcast, it might be that Lisa and I never recorded ourselves trying to figure out how to record, or losing our connective wires, or plugging in the wrong connecters, or spending two hours reading the Yeti mic directions and still having no idea how to turn the darn thing on, or losing Lisa’s dog while recording, or her famous “delta airline” headphones, or her sweet father’s timely decision to mow the lawn outside of our “studio” or being asked to “turn up our gain” when we were never quite sure which way was up and which was down, and what the heck is the “gain” anyway? I still don’t know. We were quite the great pair! Perhaps these regrets are less regrets but cherished memories; ones that keep me tethered to gratitude by the daily reminder that I am only able to do right now what I learned so well back then. I am blessed.

Speaking of blessed…

The Blessed Mother is my co-host now, and I am expecting her to show up big time because agreeing to start the Good Friday Sister podcast feels like one of the most vulnerable things I have ever done. I might as well record in my underwear. That is how vulnerable it feels. But with each woman’s ask: will you start a podcast? and with each woman’s encouragement: I miss your voice, confidence replaced doubt, and hope silenced fear, and little by little thoughts were transformed. I was no longer thinking, “I could never” but, “what if I did?”

And by the grace of God, He gave me a husband who made certain that “what if I did” would become “Let’s do it.” If you are excited about my return to podcasting, you have Nick Phelps to thank. Without him, I would still be on Indeed looking to advance my dog walker career. I don’t walk my own dogs. Interesting discernment on my part. What I have discerned well is my role in all of this. While I am the only host, I am not the “star”: that would be Our Lady. She is the Morning Star who lights my way, the “North Star”, who guides the ship of my soul during the voyage of this life (Louis deMontfort).

From its conception, I knew one thing: Good Friday Sister would look different because it would look like me. Podcast photoshoot? It had to be in the Church. Hair and make-up? Not so much. Picture Props? Sure, a microphone…but also, a rosary, stained glass windows, my beloved veil. (who the heck veils for a podcast photoshoot? Me. That’s who) The photographer? A faithful, practicing Catholic. Someone who appreciates the beauty of the Catholic faith and highlights it, not me. A fellow Catholic creative who knows to be reverent, quiet, and respectful when shooting pictures in the House of the Lord; who, with heavy camera in hand, and fourth baby in her belly, genuflects when she walks past the tabernacle. These little details mattered more to me than anything else. And she nailed it.

And here is the thing I knew then and know now…this aesthetic could be a total miss. And yet, it doesn’t matter because popular or not, it feels like an enormous win for God. To Him be the glory.

And the name, Good Friday Sister? Well, this too, I love. And the credit goes to Our Lady. It is the Blessed Mother who has not only taught me how to stand at the foot of the cross, but that I am not meant to stand there alone. I could say so much about the “Good Fridays” I have endured; the ones that brought me to my knees and the enemy who desired to keep me there. I could write for hours about the way Our Lady of Sorrows gathers each of our sufferings, transforming swords into stars of Bethlehem; threading each petal of pain into a glorious garland that makes the unbearable sweet as honey. But I’ll save that for the podcast.

If you have yet to Subscribe to the Good Friday Sister podcast (now on Apple podcasts, Spotify and Substack), I would be so grateful. The first episode drops on Friday, September 4th and a special BONUS EPISODE for paid subscribers will be available to listen to each month, beginning on the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows.

But more than that, would you kindly pray?

I have the feeling that the Lord has more in store for Good Friday Sister…that it is “bigger'“ than I realize, and by “bigger” I do not mean a smashing, viral success with millions of downloads…I mean…”bigger” for the Kingdom of God…and I know that doesn’t make any sense. It is hard to find the right words. There is just this sense in prayer that the Lord has other plans for all of this…for me…my husband…our work together…and you. What any of this means, I do not know.

But to all of it, I say yes.

Now back to the dead raccoon in my driveway. He was discovered after the ant and fly infestation (the day before hosting overnight guests), after a blindside text that sent me into a spiral of despair, after I smashed the side mirror of my car into the garage, and after the chickens were infested with mites, and yes…all of this happened, surprise-surprise, the week we launched Good Friday Sister. To quote Lago, Jafar’s parrot in the Disney movie, Aladdin: why am I not surprised?

So, yes. The dead raccoon in the driveway, while unfortunate for the grieving nocturnal community, was for me, a living sign:

I am 100% doing God’s will.

DO YOU HAVE A GOOD FRIDAY SISTER?

In developing this podcast I have not only cried, felt overwhelmed, threatened to quit, and deeply desired to kill the cat, but also…I have had the opportunity to prayerfully reflect on the gift of my Good Friday Sisters; the ones who truly get me and get it. Those who have stood and stayed, and those who have been a balm to my heart and soft place to land for a season. All are a blessing, and it is worth your taking to prayer…who are the Good Friday Sisters in your life? Who stands with you at the foot of your cross? You might want to write her a kind letter, or have a Mass said for her intentions. A Good Friday Sister is rare, necessary and valuable. Thank her.

Now, onto the other stuff…

DON’T POST THIS, MOM.

I have been warned: do not be that mom who posts her adult children’s wins. But because there was much to celebrate in August, I was given the green light. It wasn’t all infestation! In fact, it was mostly celebration…

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This? This I know to be true.

If I had a dime for every time I thought or said, “I don’t know what I would do without my spiritual friends,” I could get out of debt. Pay for my daughter’s wedding. Remodel the bathrooms. Buy homes for my children. A truck for my husband. And a Japanese sweet potato every day (they are delicious but pricey).

My new podcast, Good Friday Sister, was born out of the realization that God gave His own Mother Mary spiritual companions at the foot of the cross because “it was the will of the Father in Heaven that she not endure this alone.”2 The foot of the cross. Have you heard of it? Have you been there? Have you suffered anything? Has life taken an unexpected turn? Have you experienced heartache, disappointment, deep sorrow, or anxiety? Did you decide to get bangs and immediately regret it? Yes. Of course you have. Because everyone suffers something, and no one escapes the cross.

The only thing worse than being invited to stand at the foot of the cross is standing there alone.

But you won’t have to anymore.

Subscribe now

I hope that the Good Friday Sister podcast becomes more than another spiritual box you check off or consume; I want it to transform your life, helping you to see your suffering through a new lens, while finding comfort and strength in the companionship of the Good Friday Sister community.

Does this mean that the only thing I will talk about is suffering? Absolutely not. We are going to learn to embrace suffering by diving deep into the Catholic faith — its beauty, traditions, and liturgy —while drawing from real-life experiences, the wisdom of the saints, and my backyard monastery—the chicken coop. (Trust me, the chickens have taught me more about myself, true rest, and how to live with holy rhythm than any Biblical scholar or Bible Study!) And sisters…we will laugh. A lot. Because it is possible to live joyfully at the foot of the cross, and as I like to say, everything, eventually, is funny. Even those stupid bangs you got.

I am excited to share that Good Friday Sister is on Apple and Spotify, and if you haven’t subscribed, do so now…the first episode drops on Friday, September 4th! And please, share with a friend! The more at the foot of the cross, the better!

Welcome to the Good Friday Sister podcast! Today, host Laura Mary Phelps shares what this podcast is about, what you can expect, and why it is exactly what you have been waiting for! Be sure to subscribe, share with a friend, and leave a 5-star rating and review. And remember…

Wherever you are, whatever you face, you are a Good Friday Sister, now. And a Good Friday Sister never stands alone.

For months, I brought the same questions to the Lord: What do You want me to do? What do I have to offer? How would You like me to use my gifts to help others and glorify You?

And for months, I heard crickets.

Known for being “the woman who talks about suffering,” I will admit that I wanted to be known for something else; something a little less… depressing. And so I continued to ignore what the Lord was asking; what was right in front of me. Until one morning in prayer, He opened my ears to hear: you are not known as the woman who talks about suffering; you are known as the real and relatable woman who “gets it”—who stands with her sisters, who assures them: What you are going through is really hard. But God is not finished. He is still good. It’s part of a great plan you may never understand this side of the veil. But trust me. I’ve been there. The pain has purpose. You will be okay.”

Just like that, my questions were answered. I knew exactly what God was asking me to do.

And so, it is with tremendous joy that I introduce the Good Friday Sister podcast; your place to feel not so alone and a little less crazy in the trials of life.

Ladies, let’s be honest. We spend far too much time trying to escape our reality. I speak from personal experience. But in the past few years, as I began to grow in the interior life and immerse myself in the traditions of the Catholic faith, I discovered that suffering is not something to be avoided but embraced, and that it is possible to live joyfully at the foot of the cross!

And I want this for you, too.

As your host of the Good Friday Sister podcast, I promise to deliver meaningful conversation designed to encourage you on the path to holiness, give you hope in the face of the seemingly hopeless, and remind you that when life looks like a dumpster fire, you do not stand in the dumpster alone. You might cry. You’ll definitely laugh. And you’ll hear about my chickens—a lot.

🎙️ The Good Friday Sister TRAILER launches TODAY, Friday, August 21st! Be sure to listen, get excited, and SHARE with a friend.

🎙️LISTEN TO THE TRAILER HERE

🎙️The first episode drops on Friday, September 4th, and will be available on Apple, Spotify, wherever you enjoy your podcasts! Be sure to head on over to my podcast website page, scroll to the bottom, and JOIN MY EMAIL LIST. I will let you know the moment you can SUBSCRIBE so that you do not miss a thing.

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I’m so excited to spend my Fridays with you! Think of the Good Friday Sister podcast as your much-needed happy hour at the end of a long week, minus the cocktails!

Sister, it is an honor to have you on the journey with me. And remember…

Wherever you are, whatever you face, you are a Good Friday Sister now. And a Good Friday Sister never stands alone.

With love, from your Good Friday Sister,

Laura

In anticipation of a new project I am sharing this Friday, we are revisiting a chapter from my book, Sweet Cross: A Marian Guide to Suffering. If you missed Part Two, here it is…

PART THREE

That terrifying moment in the doctor’s office lobby was the beginning of my dependence on God and His ability to work all things for good. It was the day I denied myself my natural mother instinct - doing what felt good and right at the moment- and picked up my cross and followed God blindly, doing whatever He said, and trusting that while it made no sense, I was in good hands. Accepting that while this may not end well, God knows best. And Mary was with me every step of the way, teaching me that true obedience to God’s will over my own was going to require that I decide to be okay with the consequences ahead of time.

Here’s the thing. God will call you to hard places. The exact places you marked as “I will never go here”. But dare I suggest that more often than not, that hard place God calls us to is necessary. What helped me wrap my head around this was meditating on Chapter Three of the book of Daniel. It is the story of King Nebuchadnezzar, who, in a rage over the three Jews who refuse to serve or worship the golden statue he set up, threatens to have them thrown in the white-hot furnace. But the threat of such an awful death does not sway them. They stand firm, obedient to God, and answer the King saying, “If our God, whom we serve, can save us from the white-hot-furnace and your hand, O King, may he save us! But even if he will not, know O king, that we will not serve your god or worship the golden statue which you set.” And so the men are thrown into the furnace, with flames that rose forty-nine cubits above the furnace, so fierce and so spread out, that it consumed the Chaldeans nearby. But as the Scriptures tell us, “the angel of the Lord went down into the furnace with Azariah and his companions, drove the fiery flames out of the furnace, and made the inside of the furnace as though a dew-laden breeze were blowing through it. The fire in no way touched them or caused them pain or harm.” And all that could be heard from the furnace was the sound of one voice, singing, glorifying, and blessing the Lord.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. It ended well for them, but that doesn’t mean it will end well for me. And trust me. I struggle with this, too. For years, my fear of what-if had me praying an only-if prayer. “I will do whatever you ask, Lord, only if You don’t ask me to do this.” Does this sound familiar? Because we do that, don’t we? We pray prayers with conditions. We put God to the test. We try to manipulate His plan because we are utterly afraid of what might happen if we hand Him everything and let Him do as He wills. I credit the grace of my devotion to the Rosary for my turnaround and ability to surrender. Walking with Mary through the events of Jesus' life, I began to understand Our Lady’s role and her fierce love for the Lord. Mary was obedient to the point of her Son’s death because she loved God for Who He was, not for what He gave. She didn’t say, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done according to your word, only if you promise my son will be okay.” In total blindness, she gave Him everything, and it was her obedience that would win her the crown and bring her to glory.

And yet, crown and all, it remains difficult. Every time I give my witness and encourage others to continue to trust and obey the will of God, I am always approached by a heartbroken mother who cannot bear the cross she has been given one minute longer. She cannot see the good in any of it and is living in the fear of what-if. And this is so hard because here is the thing. I can not promise anyone, myself included, that our loved ones will be okay. At least, not our version of “okay”. This is devastatingly hard, and that is why I love the story in Daniel, because here is the thing about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego. They didn’t know that they would be okay. They didn’t know that they would survive. They decided ahead of time to obey God, without knowing how it would all end, because they loved Him. Yes, they claimed that the God they knew and loved would save them, but they also said that even if He didn’t save them the way they wanted Him to, He was still good.

Even if.

And so I ask. What kind of faith do you want to have? A what-if faith? Or an even-if faith? Because my guess is that even those of us who have been hurt by a God who didn’t show up in time; who didn’t heal the disease, prevent the tragedy, stop the abuse, and move the mountain; who put us in the exact spot we begged to avoid, that even we desire to pray out of an even-if faith. Why? Because obedience leads to freedom. Peace lies on the other side of surrender, regardless of the outcome. Blind obedience says I am not in control, and although I do not understand, I trust you. I love you so much, and I know you know better. You will make a way for me.

And He always does.

This is what I want. In all seasons and circumstances, I want an even-if faith. I want to enter into whatever battle the Lord calls me to, promptly and obediently, so convinced and courageous that my “only if” prayer surrenders to an “even if” prayer. If God calls you to hard places and does not show up to rescue you in the way you told Him to, it does not mean He has not rescued you. Nor does it mean he has left you to carry your cross alone. But you have to make the jump, my friend. You have to put both feet in the faith pool and trust Him with everything, especially with that one thing you refuse to let go. We can not fool God with occasional trust. Just like Mary, we have to be all in. But how? How can we deepen our trust to the point that obedience becomes our natural response? In his book, I Thirst: 40 Days with Mother Teresa, Joseph Langford, M.C., writes:

“I trust in God is so important for our spiritual lives, how can we deepen our trust? Many of our problems with trust come because we don’t understand the object of our trust. The object of trust is not the confidence that God will give, or do, or change, whatever we are asking of him. It is rather a confidence in our union with him, the firm belief that whatever is happening now is the best that could happen to advance the union.” (P 44) What Langford goes on to explain are the enemies of our trust, one of which he describes as a “surface or superficial vision of our lives.” This, he describes happens “when we take things at their face value and fail to see their deeper meaning.” He goes on to explain that “while genuine trust leads to stability; equanimity, and serenity both in sorrow and in joy”, a superficial view of things leaves us tossed about by the waves of whatever is happening to us.” Think about the apostles on the boat, during the storm, being tossed about, and Peter taking a step out to Jesus, but in losing his trust begins to drown. The storm was not the problem with Peter. The problem with Peter was his trust amid the storm.““You see, we need to make sure that the goal of our lives is not to lose the cross, but rather, for God to use it. That it is in only in the carrying of it obediently, that we will deepen our relationship, making us painfully aware of our absolute dependence on Him. “Trust,” he finally says, “is, therefore, an aspect of poverty of spirit: the readiness not to need to know why, not to demand, not to set conditions, but instead to choose and embrace what God has planned or allowed for our good.” (45)

Saint Ignatius said that “As long as obedience is flourishing, all other virtues will be seen to flourish and to bear fruit.” We see evidence of this in Our Lady. It is with our Mother we can say, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word.” (Lk 1:38)

In anticipation of a new project I am sharing this Friday, we are revisiting a chapter from my book, Sweet Cross: A Marian Guide to Suffering. If you missed Part One, here it is…

PART TWO:

With the invitation into long suffering came a giant hit to my faith. I could not bring myself to be obedient, because the fear of what God was asking me to do was greater than my trust in Him. It was at this point in the journey that I recognized that no amount of planning, intercepting, or jumping in would cure the disease staring us down. Standing inside the lobby of a doctor’s office, the Lord made it clear: outside of Him, there was no cure. He invited me to drop my weapons, quit fighting, and walk away, and this terrified me because... was this really of the Lord? I was uncertain where this command was coming from. I wondered if the voice I heard was not of God, but the enemy, because why would God ever command a mother to stop fighting?

I shared this encounter with a friend who took this to prayer on my behalf and came back to let me know her interpretation: that this was not the enemy, but absolutely instruction from God; a firm command that said Make no mistake. I am not asking you to give up, but inviting you to rest. I will fight now. You are exhausted because you are fighting a battle that was never meant for you. The cure is not up to you to find. I am the cure. Put your loved one in my hands and trust me.

God wasn’t asking me to give up hope, but to demonstrate it.

And to be honest, that felt risky. Blindly surrendering what was most precious to me over to a God who, in my mind, had yet to come through for us was insanely hard and just about impossible. Just about.

Thank God for Mary and her example of blind obedience.

BLIND: made or done without sight of certain objects or knowledge of certain facts that could serve for guidance or cause bias

OBEDIENCE: an act or instance of obeying, to follow the commands or guidance of

to conform to or comply with

Saint Irenaeus says, “Like Eve, by her disobedience, caused her death and that of the whole human race, so did the Virgin Mary, by her obedience, become the cause of her salvation and of that of all mankind.” All salvation hinged on Mary’s obedience; nothing hindered her wild willingness to say yes to God. No matter how crazy, unreasonable, or impossible, Mary said yes. Yes to hopping on a donkey pregnant and heading for Bethlehem where she would most likely go into labor. Yes to getting out of bed with a newborn and fleeing to Egypt because her husband had a bad dream. Yes to presenting her firstborn son at the temple, according to the Law of Moses. Yes to encouraging Jesus to turn water into wine. Yes to taking her place at the foot of the cross where she was to witness and participate in the excruciating death of her Son. Yes to being the Mother of the entire world.

Mary’s surrender had to come first and was possible because her motivation was love. We will never trust someone we do not know, and we will never obey someone we have no faith in. Without these- faith and love- we can not respond in obedience. Mary did crazy things for God because she had crazy faith and love. Nothing could thwart her response. It is good to ask yourself: How well do I respond when things do not go as planned? How quick am I to obey when I am asked to let go of the reins? Do I hear the word of God, and if so, do I follow it?

In Luke’s Gospel (11:27-28), Jesus addresses Mary’s obedience to a large crowd.

“While Jesus was saying these things, one of the women in the crowd raised her voice and said to Him, “Blessed is the womb that carried You, and the breasts at which You nursed!” But He said, “On the contrary, blessed are those who hear the word of God and follow it.”

In his General Audience address of Sept. 18, 1996, Marian giant Pope John Paul II encapsulates for us the importance of Mary’s example of blind obedience.

“By her conduct, Mary reminds us of each of our serious responsibility to accept God’s plan for our lives. In total obedience to the saving will of God expressed in the angel [Gabriel’s] words, she became a model for those whom the Lord proclaims blessed, because “they hear the word of God and keep it” (Lk 11:28). In answering the woman in the crowd who proclaimed his Mother blessed, Jesus disclosed the true reason for Mary’s blessedness: her adherence to God’s will, which led her to accept the divine motherhood. In the Encyclical Redemptoris Mater, I pointed out that the new spiritual motherhood of which Jesus spoke is primarily concerned with her. Indeed, “Is not Mary the first of ‘those who hear the Word of God and do it’? And therefore does not the blessing uttered by Joseph in response to the woman in the crowd refer primarily to her?” (20). In a certain sense, therefore, Mary is proclaimed the first disciple of her Son (see RM 20), and by her example invites all believers to respond generously to the Lord’s grace ...

Associated with Christ’s victory over the sin of our first parents, Mary appears as the true “mother of the living” (LG 56). Her motherhood, freely accepted in obedience to the divine plan, becomes a source of life for all humanity.”

I can read and study all that I want about obedience to God, but the only thing that has ever helped me to be obedient… is to be obedient. To take that leap. To say yes to whatever is asked of me when I do not understand, when I am afraid, when loss, injury, pain, and even death are all possible outcomes. I’d love to write that my obedience is immediate and always precedes my need to know what comes next. Unfortunately, letting go of the pride that assures me that I know better than God has proved more difficult than I expected. With my plan clenched in my hand and the absolute belief that I know what is best, obedience tends to be delayed. I would imagine that if the angel Gabriel appeared to me with a message from God, the story of salvation would look a little different than it does. My lack of obedience would lead me to say, “How could you give me this?” While Mary’s obedience is always a “How can I do this for you?” Mary might not have fully understood where her “yes’ would take her, but she trusted God enough not to count the cost. Could you imagine if she paused before her fiat, and only thought about all of the things she could lose? Her marriage to Joseph? Her friendships? Her family? Her community?

Discipleship is pricey, and the Church’s teachings sound crazy, and none of this, my friend, is for the wimpy. If we were to sit down and do the math, we would never step out and answer God’s call because we would know there was no way we could afford it. As Father Louis Cameli writes, “Any significant call [from God] involves cost. If it is truly significant, it redirects a person’s life, demands an investment of time and energy, and realigns relationships, sometimes in painful ways. In this sense, a call that is heard and answered needs to be reaffirmed when its consequences and its cost become evident. When Mary experienced Joseph’s misunderstanding, she experienced the price of her call. Her initial words of acceptance, “Let it be to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38), needed to be repeated.

Nothing stirs up fear and distinguishes faith like counting the cost. After years of running every possible outcome in my mind, I finally had to stop and ask myself the hard questions: Is God worth it? Are the pain of this cross and the uncertainty of life worth it? Sitting beside Mary, I knew the answer was a radical yes. I did love God. I did have faith. I did want to be obedient. I was just stuck in the “what if?”And so I took a page out of my fearless four-year-old’s book, who willingly got strapped in a car without needing to know where he was going. I stopped looking at all of the things that caused me to flee from obedience; things like fear, pain, sorrow, and loss, and instead, I looked at the people who were in the car with me - Jesus, Mary, and all of the saints, who, by their obedience on earth, were enjoying the reward of eternal life.

To be continued…

I have been hinting for a while about a project the Lord and I have been working on, and friends, I am so excited because THIS FRIDAY, all will be revealed! Mark your calendars for Friday, August 21st!

In honor of the Blessed Mother, who has been standing by my side throughout my work (and my entire life), encouraging me when I want to give up, consoling me when I fear failure, guiding me to the feet of her Son when I am weary and need rest, I have chosen a chapter from my book, Sweet Cross: A Marian Guide to Suffering, to post here on Substack. Every chapter of Sweet Cross highlights one of Mary’s virtues, and the obvious virtue I am sharing in preparation for my big announcement is none other than good old BLIND OBEDIENCE.

Because eight months ago, in blind obedience to the Lord, I took a giant leap of faith.

Into what? I had no clue.

To where? No idea.

And while it felt risky and reckless, there was a certainty about it. I knew it was God’s will. And so, despite my feelings (which, you know, are rarely an accurate indicator of what is going on and usually big-time liars), I listened and obeyed. And here is the important thing you need to hear… You may even want to write it down and take it to prayer for motivation in your time of discernment…

Had I not imitated Mary’s virtue of blind obedience, the work I am about to release into the world-work I am confident is the will of God- might not have ever happened. And on Judgment Day, standing before God, when asked to give an account of my stewardship, there will be no time for excuses. I will have to own up to my disobedience and face the fact that souls were never reached because of my inability to say YES.

But I was obedient. God be praised.

Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your Mother, and all my spiritual companions who have stayed with me on the journey.

Friday can’t get here soon enough.

Embracing Your Cross With Blind Obedience

Our youngest child was just four years old when we moved from California to Connecticut. The main reason for this major uprooting was to be closer to family. My sister, just a few towns away now, suggested she take my four kids to a movie so that I could unpack the eight million boxes staring me down. I jumped at the offer, gathered the kids, and ushered them out into the driveway. As I buckled my youngest into the car seat and kissed him goodbye, a thought hit me. I never told him where they were going! As my sister started up the engine and began to back out, I called out, “Luke? Do you even know where Aunt Kathy is taking you?” With radical trust, he shrugged his cute little shoulders and said, “Nope.” And I laughed as they drove away.

I still think about this moment, eight years later. My precious one? He knew me so well and was certain of my love for him. There was no need to question why I was putting him in a strange car with a woman he barely knew, strapping him down, and sending him off without giving him the details. He trusted me so much, believed in me so much, that concern or worry about what the plan for him was a total non-issue. Because of his trust, he had no fear and could willingly accept that he was not in charge. So long as he was in my hands, he was in good hands. The added comfort of his brother and sisters going along for the ride assured him that the outcome, whatever it may be, didn’t matter nearly as much as the company he was keeping. And so when Mom said, “Get in the car,” he obeyed.

In case you were wondering what blind obedience is, this is it.

Obedience is up there with sin in terms of worldly popularity, and yet Jesus calls us to obey. Not because He’s on some power trip, but because He knows what is best for us. Adam and Eve made it clear from the start that disobedience leads to sin and death, so why is it so hard for us to obey God? Why does surrendering to Him feel like the worst idea ever? Or is this just me? Because surrendering - especially to a story I don’t like with no guarantee it will end well - goes against everything my lower passions desire. Things like full control, knowing the future, and a written promise that everything and everyone will be okay. And that right there? That is the problem. Because I do have a written promise. It’s called the Bible. However, if I am being honest, the promise I want is not always the one God gives.

Bishop Barron calls faith “an attitude of trust in the presence of God.” He says, “faith is openness to what God will reveal, do, and invite. It should be obvious that in dealing with the infinite, all-powerful person of God, we are never in control.” The promise this all-powerful God makes is that if we obey his commandments, we will live with Him forever. There will be no more sorrow or pain. We will at long last be in paradise. It sounds like a sweet deal, and yet, I continue to flee from His will. This is not good. Jesus does not suggest that we obey; He commands it. Obedience to God is not only an act of worship but is also rewarded. (Gen 22:18) Our obedience to God demonstrates our faith, and our motivation should always be love, for Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (Jn 14:15)

It begs the questions:

How reckless is my love for God?

How radical is my trust in Him?

To be continued…

The host cued the final words, the theme music played, and the microphones faded. It was a wrap. We had covered Sandy Hook, my book, how to surrender, and all things suffering. And yes. We laughed, too. But it was the conversation after the live segment that brought the radio host to tears. The part never recorded.

I told her about the revelation I had regarding the rosary blessed by the Blessed Mother.

When those beads were lovingly placed in my hands by a Priest who followed the visionary’s instructions: “Give this to someone who needs it”…while deeply consoled, there was also an immediate feeling of unworthiness. Why me? Of all the mothers? My children survived. Why not a mother who left the firehouse that terrible day with empty arms?

I had no idea that soon enough, my arms, too, would be empty.

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It has been a while since I did a coop chat, not because I have nothing to say, but because the endless rain has turned my beloved chicken run into a mud bath. Not a great place to hang out and chat.

But today I am back because I read something on my Sanctifica App that will 100% send me down a spiritual rabbit hole of prayer for the rest of the day!

Wanna join me? Grab your coffee and let’s gooooo!!!!

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I had already made a wrong turn. Driving on the Van Wyck Expressway, or any expressway, is not my favorite. Clenching the steering wheel while holding my breath, a welcome distraction came my way: the sticker on the car to my right's rear window. It was the largest, boldest collegiate car sticker I had ever seen. In all capital letters, it said: SAINT LAWRENCE.

Obviously, it was a sign.

And so, knowing little about the Saint, other than we kinda’ share a name, I prayed for his intercession the entire way home. Once home, I took a deep dive into his life, the year he was born, his love for the poor, and his martyrdom…burned to death on a gridiron, where, as the story goes, he humorously told his torturers that his flesh was cooked, it was time to eat. Patron Saint of many things, one in particular verified that running into Saint Lawrence on the road was no coincidence: patron of comedians.

Dr. Rumpf, my college therapist, was the first to call this out: my ability to smile or joke in the midst of terrible things. “You tell such sad stories with such a smile.” I shrugged. To be honest, I didn’t realize there was another way. To me, everything is funny eventually.

Lately, though, light-heartedness amid the fire has been difficult. Already overwhelmed by this and that, the latest crisis du jour feels like too much…that final Jenga piece that you know is going to topple everything over. And so cheerful confidence in the battle is extinguished by the possible worst-case scenario that may or may not happen, but in your mind has already occurred.

And that is it right there, isn’t it?

It is the mind.

Because the truth is, I have no idea what this Jenga piece will do. I, in fact, do not know if this is what topples things over, or if the toppling over is exactly what needs to happen to heal and rebuild.

What if the toppling over is not the worst-case scenario but the answer to prayer?

In my prayer to Saint Lawrence this morning, I came upon the writing of Saint Ambrose, who wrote about Lawrence, saying that it was “by the courage of his mind, he overcame fire,” and as I stepped away from prayer to feed the chickens, I marveled at all of this…the timely reminder that if I do not want the flames to consume me I have got to protect my mind. Immediately, I felt lighter. The grip that’s been around my neck loosened. My eye stopped twitching, and as I entered the chicken run and took my place on the bench, peace washed over me, as if Saint Lawrence himself was right there, whispering, “Everything was going to be okay.”

And then a chicken flew directly at me, slamming its feet in my face, scratching my upper right eye, and shocking the you know what out of me. For a moment, I thought my girls had rebelled…they were attacking me! When, actually, I think the poor hen was trying to land on my head. I won’t lie..I was not so happy in the moment, but I am certain that if we had caught it on video, we’d all be laughing.

Because everything is funny eventually.

Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

“No harm can come to me since, in whatever happens, I see only the tender hand of Jesus.”

Thanks to the Blessed Mother and sweet St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower, I returned to blogging. Of course, in true form, I wasn’t aware of this Saint assigned to me; no connections were made. Not the name of the new blog—Wildflower—not the ministry I began working at (It's Patron Saint, St. Thérèse of Lisieux) —not the childlike trust required, and accomplished (for the most part) in that courageous first step to preach the name of Jesus, by putting my name back out there.

Preaching, man. It always comes with a cost.

Aside from one strange comment received on a post (“Hey, Jennifer… what's popping?”), things went fairly smoothly. Of course, I didn’t go looking for trouble—I never googled my name or visited hoax websites. I stayed in my lane, trusted in the Lord, and did what I loved to do: I wrote about the God who rescued me.

Make no mistake. I was still afraid. But my trust in God was greater than the fear. I credit that to daily Scripture reading and Bible Study, frequent confession and Mass, and surrounding myself with good, holy Catholic women.

Also, I changed my name.

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It was the year 2000, and we had a good plan—a plan to leave our New York City apartment and head out west. Despite our friend’s warnings, selfish ambition got the best of us. “We will be back in a year,” we promised our loved ones, “when we have enough money to live comfortably.” And so we said goodbye to everything and everyone that we knew and loved in pursuit of success at all costs.

The future was ours to create. Or so we believed.

Living one year in sunny California turned into ten years stuck in Los Angeles. The money, status, and comfort we left our family for were replaced with bankruptcy, stress, and regret. Turns out, we were not the masters of our fate. So much for the good plan.

The great irony is that 22 years later, I look back on that season and would give my right arm to relive just one of those days. As I prepare for one daughter’s 21st birthday and another’s high school graduation, suddenly the Scripture verse that warns me that I am “a puff of smoke that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14) sounds like the obnoxious ticking of the world’s most insensitive time bomb. I want my four small kids back. I want that tiny one-bedroom apartment. I want to drag my family’s dirty clothes to the laundromat with kids in tow, cover every corner of the kitchen table with glitter and glue, and go on an “adventure walk,” which really was just picking up snails on our way to add quarters to our laundry card.

It was a hard season. So why do I long for it?

Turns out that my struggling life—the one I was so eager to get ahead of—was a deliberately crafted garland of ordinary moments strung together by the wisdom of God. Knowing the confident pride I am prone to fall into when planning my future, He gifted me with four little sanctifiers and a hard-working husband who made just enough money to almost cover rent, so that I’d keep tethered to the better part. All those years when I dreamed of where I thought I ought to be, I was, in fact, exactly where He needed me to be: witnessing Christ to others in the little places and messy spaces we called home.

Oh, sweet friends…do not buy into the lie that you belong somewhere else.
Do not believe for a minute that you are replaceable, not enough, or incomplete.
The season you are in is not God’s mistake, oversight, or His just killing time.
And if the glitter drives you crazy, have no fear. It, too, will disappear.

The older I get, the better I understand that God has a divine plan. What looked like obstacles to my living a good, secure life were opportunities to depend on God’s grace, mercy, and will in every moment. Our good plan was never going to bear us lasting fruit; not only because we were living in the confidence of ourselves, but because, spoiler alert, man’s plans are always tentative.

If you’re struggling with the season you are in, here’s a fun fact:
The season you are in is the only season you are guaranteed.
The opportunities of today may not be available tomorrow.
So, stop worrying about the future and who you think you need to become, and be present to the woman you are right now. Be her. I am more than confident that someone in your life really loves and needs her. Not tomorrow. But today.

We read in the Letter of James, “You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. For you are just a vapor that appears for a little while, and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.’ But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil. So for one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, for him it is sin.” (James 4:14-17)

I am not denying the value of a sound plan, nor am I calling you evil for having a vision for the future. Sometimes, a vision of the future is the only thing that gets us out of bed. However, Scripture makes it very clear that our fragile, temporary lives are not to be focused on tomorrow. We cannot predict the future, we do not live forever, and nothing we plan is permanent. The only thing secure is today.

I don’t know where you are right now, but I can tell you where I am. I’m living in the present moment, choosing to love God in my every move and serve Him where He has placed me—not where I am striving to place myself. You know, back in the day, I would have cooked, cleaned, wiped noses and kitchen counters, and grumbled to myself, “What is my life?” It can be difficult to see Jesus in the ordinary, and yet, dare I say, it’s His favorite place to be.

The season you are in might not be where you want to be, but it is where God needs you to be. Today, for as long as it lasts, is always a good place to be. So open your eyes to today, my friend. If you’re lucky, you will not only see Jesus, but you may also catch the sparkle of glitter from a long time ago—hidden but present in the messy places and spaces of this temporary home.

A friend gifted me the sweetest, most perfectly sized journals. When I asked where she purchased them, her response was more gifting: three more of the same journals plus a larger, hard-covered gem…the kind I used to have and fill from cover to cover, and when I say cover to cover, I mean…When I ran out of pages, I literally wrote on the cover!

This is why I related to and loved this piece by a fellow writer and journaling addict, . I have so many journals, and secretly wonder if when I die, one will become the next Story of a Soul. Probably not. More like Story of a Depressed Lunatic and Can You Even Believe What She said About Everyone?

When I began keeping a *Rule of Life and practicing mental prayer a couple of years ago, my morning journaling gave way to a daily examen and time in contemplation—less about needing to get my thoughts on paper and more about longing to hear God’s thoughts. Now, before you start to compare your spiritual life with mine, let me make this clear: I sound way holier and higher up on the spiritual ladder than I actually am. Many days, “contemplation” looks more like “mind wandering” and “planning what to tell my husband to make for dinner.” But I continue to show up, and that’s by God’s grace, not mine.

Yes. My husband cooks dinner. And builds websites and chicken coops. And sings Gregorian chant. He’s a keeper.

This gift of a brand-new, thick journal inspired me to return to my old love of journaling. Truly, it has come into my life at the right time; when I have felt a daily, growing anxiety over things I can not control, the amount of work to be done, the to-do list on steroids, earthly attachments, and the future. Journaling is helping me to follow the thread of worry to its place of origin, to see that it is never about what it is about; to acknowledge it, then take action. And the action is more often than not handing it over to Our Lady and sitting in silence. Far from navel-gazing, journaling has given me a way to take my mind off of myself, which is self-love and narcissism, and put it on Christ, where it belongs.

Peace is the fruit of a mind stayed on Christ. And Mary helps make that possible.

SPEAKING OF OUR LADY

I have been slowly and prayerfully working my way, for the millionth time, through True Devotion to Mary with Preparation for Total Consecration. My husband purchased his own copy and is reading it as well (add that to his list of accomplishments and “things to look for in a husband”). My consecration day will fall on September 8, 2026, the Nativity of Our Lady and…I will consecrate a special project (that I am SUPER EXCITED about) to Mary, entrusting all my creative endeavors and hard work into her immaculate and gentle hands. I am convinced both the project and the consecration are her idea. In fact, I have never been more confident about anything in my entire life.

“If Mary, who is the tree of life, is well cultivated in our soul by fidelity to the practices of this devotion, she will bear her fruit in her own time, and her fruit is none other than Jesus Christ.”1

THE FRUIT OF OBEDIENCE TASTES AMAZING

Remember when I took that leap of faith and jumped into the abyss of “I have absolutely no idea what God wants from me anymore,” but jumped anyway because He asked me to?

Well. I landed on my feet. God be praised.

Friends. The Lord has been too generous to this unworthy servant. This is not false humility you are hearing. I am unworthy and kind of a mess. Ask my husband. I’m a bit ridiculous and can be super annoying. When he comes into the kitchen to refill his coffee mug between meetings, I ask him to “crack an egg on my head.” “JUST ONE” is what I ask for, but I am expecting at least five. And I should be arrested for what I wear to bed, honestly…it’s like I am trying to win the least attractive wife award. And despite my husband putting our cats on the “half a can plan,” because cat food is pricey and they poop too much and never in the litter box, I continue to give a full can because I can’t deal with their incessant meows, and then I lie and tell him that I gave just half a can. Even in all of this, the Good Lord has blessed me this month beyond measure. And not with “success” because success, after all, dies when we do. But with fruit. The fruit, I believe, that comes from radical, blind obedience. The fruit that lasts long after we are gone.

The first delicious fruit of blind obedience?

Hands down, our Spiritual Warfare and The Discernment of Spirits Book Club. The sisterhood, accountability, and self-knowledge have been a glorious surprise. The women who show up are honest, loving, and actively seeking the Lord…plus, they love to talk about mortal sin…my favorite kind of women! No small talk here—we go deep. We get real. And I never want the call to end. If you missed this go around, there is a good chance I will offer it again. Better yet, maybe someone in the group will step up and offer to lead next season. Anyone who desires to progress in the spiritual life needs to understand discernment, desolation, consolation, and the particular ways the enemy works to keep us from heaven. If you are a paid subscriber experiencing a little FOMO, feel free to jump in this Thursday! I’m convinced it’s the best virtual group on earth!

The second delicious fruit of blind obedience…

A full calendar of Mentorship. It is nothing short of a dream come true to spend my days meeting with women one-on-one, listening to their hearts, drawing up a plan, and encouraging them on the path to holiness. This weekend, I will be launching my new 6-Month Mentorship Extension and Mini-Masterclass program. I am keeping enrollment for this on the smaller side, to ensure my prayerful commitment, but I have been able to add two more spots, beginning in September. If you are on the fence, please reach out. These spots will be gone by the time you reach the end of this post! I am happy to send you all the details and answer any questions.

And now, for the third MOST DELICIOUS FRUIT of blind obedience….

If you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen that I have been working on a special project. This project is 100% given to me by the Blessed Mother, which is why I am consecrating it to her…putting it back into her hands. If it is any good, it is all because of HER.

When I walked away from an apostolate I had been with for over a decade, this idea was nowhere on my radar. NOWHERE. I needed to hit pause. Slow down. And TRUST that a plan was in place, whether I could see it or not. It was only over time and through mental prayer that I started to feel the tug of Our Lady…pulling me closer, whispering to my heart, opening my ears to hear what women were wanting, needing, and longing for…specifically, from me.

So, what is this project, you ask??

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This is typical of me. Or maybe typical of the Holy Spirit. Because I have things to do, I have a list. A major project soon to be revealed, a bridal shower and wedding, with which and why I was not warned, comes with a thousand never ending details and logistics. See? I don’t have the time to sit and write about how at the diner this week, with our True Devotion to Mary books out on the table, and our open conversation about how we need Mary in order to preserve the graces and treasures we have received from God, and the way that the devil studies us and comes in a moment unawares and gets us to fall, robbing us of grace, and how I told my friend, “Everyone thinks I am crazy to say that I could be dead before dinner but it is true” and she nodded and agreed and we sat with our enormous mugs of coffee…hers a decaf, which I will never understand, and we acknowldged the importance of fighting temptation and being holy and then marveled at what we tend to brush by in Scripture, when, truthfully, it should knock us over the head and bring us to our knees: that we do not know the day or hour.

And all the while, as we talked and wrestled and prayed with Our Lady, who was ever present with us in our booth at the diner just off of exit 10, a group of bikers behind us finished their breakfast, walked into the parking lot, hopped on their bikes, and no doubt, were headed for the highway just a few feet away…

When this happened:

My friend looked at me and said, “See? We do not know the time or day,” and I nodded towards her, and smiled at Mary, looking up at me from the table, and reached for the large piece of feta left on my friend’s plate because she hates large pieces of feta, which I will never understand.

“Do you think I should start blogging again?”

This might sound like a simple question, but when the time came to begin thinking about thinking about possibly thinking of putting myself back out there, trust me…this was anything but simple, because if there were one lesson learned from the public attack and false accusations, it would be this:

I don’t like it.

And that is an understatement.

I literally believed these people were going to come to my home and murder me. “That would never happen” were the reassuring words of my sweet father. Unfortunately, the “that would never happen” had already happened when twenty elementary school children, looking forward to making graham cracker gingerbread houses in their classrooms, were murdered instead. As far as I was concerned, from that evil day forward, anything could happen.

Especially the things we are certain never will.

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Are you struggling to find joy? Does anxiety weigh you down? Does worrying about a loved one keep you awake at night? Are you just not feeling it? Are you overwhelmed by stress? Is your mind obsessed with everything wrong, troublesome, and not working in your life?

I did something this morning that changed worry about the future into gratitude for the moment, which might help you. So join me in my kitchen with my messy hair, ridiculous outfit, no makeup, and zero filter as I make a delicious breakfast (Thank you, chickens!) and tell you all about it!

(And a shout out to the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has made this unexpected Saturday joy possible! Love you, Mom!)

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Far worse than any slanderous attacks aimed at my husband and me were the ones directed towards those parents whose children did not survive. Many fought back, and rightfully so. If my husband could have had his way, he, too, would have gone after every conspiracy theorist who made our lives a living hell.

But I would not let him. My reasoning?

“But Jesus was silent.” (Matthew 26:63)

We read in Isaiah 53:7:

“Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; Like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth.”

In the face of false accusations, Jesus said nothing. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t defend himself. He didn’t demand justice. Instead, through silence, he glorified God. But I’d be lying if I claimed that it was “for God’s glory” that I didn’t want us to defend ourselves; that it was for the glory of God that I begged my husband to let it go.

Fear kept me quiet.

When your every word and action is placed under a microscope, you begin to question every word and action. Fear opens the door to the enemy, and suddenly, you find yourself paralyzed by confusion. Everything is scattered and scrambled. Peace is nowhere to be found. I now understand why innocent people under intense investigation will admit to being guilty when they are, in fact, innocent. There’s a legitimate psychological breakdown when one experiences intense stress and mental exhaustion for an extended period of time. You not only begin to question yourself, but also the most ridiculous things. Imposible things. The things you know are not true.

I would spend hours ruminating on the absolutely insane, asking my husband:

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Join me for a quick coop chat today, where I talk about how, practically speaking, we can resist the devil.

According to Spurgeon, to resist the devil means to “be more prayerful every time he is active. He says, “He will soon give it up, if he finds that his attacks drive you to Christ.”1

It is a good question, perhaps, to ponder…to where do Satan’s attacks drive me?

To online shopping?

To despair and self-loathing?

To mindless scrolling?

To the news?

To another glass of wine?

Or…to Christ?

Looking forward to continuing the conversation with you at our book club call this morning and later tonight!

Now…let’s get in that chicken run and chat…

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