Chosen and Sent

July 8, 2026 Wednesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Readings for Today

Twelve Apostles in Church Chiesa di San Dalmazzo, by Enrico Reffo Video Jesus summoned his Twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness. The names of the Twelve Apostles are these… Matthew 10:1–2 Imagine being one of the Twelve. When each of them first encountered our Lord, he could never have imagined what would unfold. Eleven of them would become the foundation upon which the Messiah built His Church. Their words and actions have been recorded and proclaimed throughout the world and will continue to be until the end of time. By God’s will, they preached far and wide with divine authority. They celebrated the Holy Eucharist, transforming mere bread and wine into the Most Holy Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of the Lamb of God. Through the laying on of hands, they imparted the Holy Spirit in fullness. They worked miracles in Jesus’ name, and most of them bore final witness to Christ by the shedding of their blood. The reason their lives were so fruitful for God’s Kingdom is because they were chosen and sent by the Son of God. It was not their idea. They didn’t construct their own plan for eternal salvation. They did not map out their futures and execute a vision according to their own will. Instead, they felt the gravity of the mission for which they were chosen and acted when sent by the Savior. Their obedience to the divine will opened the floodgates of Divine Mercy, and grace poured forth upon the world. When you consider your own life, what are your goals and ambitions? What plans have you made for the future? If we want to imitate the fruitfulness of the Apostles, then we are invited to discern for what God has chosen us and to be prepared to respond with generous obedience when He sends us. It’s easy to come up with our own plans in life. We might want to save up money, succeed at work, have a family, form friendships, retire at a certain age, and enjoy many good things. Though all these can be good and might well be part of God’s plan, we must not presume upon His will. With humility, we must continually seek His guidance, remain open to His promptings, and surrender our plans to the providence of the One who knows what will truly bear fruit for eternity. Reflecting on the radical change of life to which Jesus called the Twelve invites us to consider whether Jesus also desires a radical change in our own lives. Certainly, some aspects of our lives are good and holy. If married with children, God’s will surely includes loving and caring for one’s family. Within every vocation, however, there are ways in which we might be called to a new depth of conversion—a radical life of loving, serving, and building the Kingdom of God in ways we never imagined possible. By analogy, consider a person living in poverty who suddenly wins the largest lottery in history. Imagine, further, that the person is quite worldly. Such a fortune would radically change the direction of that person’s life—likely not for the better. Though God does not promise us a material fortune, He desires to bestow upon us supernatural treasure of infinitely greater value. His Mercy is abundant—described by the saints as an ocean, vast and unfathomable, waiting to be poured out in its fullness upon all of creation. Through prayer and conversion, we open the floodgates, and God begins lavishing upon us the priceless treasure of grace. When this happens, our lives change—because God chooses us and then sends us on ever new and glorious missions. Reflect today on the spiritual truth that God has chosen you for some holy and sacred mission. It might not be glorious in the eyes of the world, but it will be glorious in Heaven. Be open. Beg for His grace. Accept your mission. Go wherever He sends you, knowing that you cannot, now, fathom all that God has in store for you. Most glorious God, You have chosen me for some definite purpose. You have called me by name and desire to send me forth to build up Your Kingdom on earth. I accept my calling and open myself to the abundance of grace You wish to bestow so that I may fulfill Your perfect will, doing unfathomable good for Your Kingdom to come. Jesus, I trust in You

The Words We Speak

July 7, 2026 Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Readings for Today

The Blind and Mute Man Possessed by Devils, by James Tissot Video A demoniac who could not speak was brought to Jesus, and when the demon was driven out the mute man spoke. The crowds were amazed and said, “Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel.” Matthew 9:32–33 Imagine being unable to speak. You could not tell your loved ones about your day, share your hopes, joys, or sorrows. The result would be deep isolation and loneliness, the plague afflicting this demoniac. Metaphorically speaking, this demoniac symbolizes us when we do not have the words to properly express ourselves to another or to God. Our “muteness” is often the result of confused thinking by which we fail to understand ourselves in the light of God’s Eternal Truth. Spiritual muteness is akin to speaking empty words that have no root in divine wisdom. We may speak much, but if our hearts are not attuned to God, our words become noise rather than prayer, reaction rather than revelation, or ramblings rather than the sincere sharing of our hearts. What does it mean to truly communicate with another? It’s not the multiplication of words, speaking over another, winning an argument, or showcasing yourself and your ideas for others to see. True communication begins with the truth—God’s Truth—alive within our souls. When that happens, when our minds are elevated by the gift of faith and our hearts are perfected by divine wisdom, our words become meaningful. When we speak, whether we say much or little, we do more than express words or ideas—we express ourselves, our union with God, our love for others, and the charity God places within us. Ultimately, words are meant to serve the building up of God’s Kingdom. Even mundane communications, such as “What would you like for dinner tonight?” can be spoken in a way that builds God’s Kingdom. But just as words can be vessels of grace, they can also become instruments of harm. When they are spoken in self-centeredness, anger, or gossip, they tear down rather than build up, and inflict damage on God’s Kingdom. In today’s Gospel, we are invited to see the demoniac as a symbol of the times when we speak empty or even harmful words rather than God’s Word. When we speak God’s Word, even in casual speech, we express God’s love as it radiates within our souls. A gentle encouragement, a consoling question about another’s day, a sharing of a joyful encounter, or any other expression of God’s love shining through our human heart is the communication we must strive for. By literally driving the demon out of the man, Jesus gave witness to His divine power and freed the man from his spiritual affliction. When the Word made flesh casts out the demon and the man speaks, it is more than a miracle of speech—it is a restoration of identity. Christ, the Eternal Word, restores human language to its sacred purpose: to give voice to truth, to unite persons in love, and above all, to glorify God. Continuing the metaphor, Jesus also wants to drive out the muteness within us—that is, our sin and every evil temptation to speak empty or damaging words instead of expressing divine truth with charity. Spiritual muteness becomes most deafening when our words echo the evil one’s lies and temptations. When we allow Christ to purify our hearts and minds, He also loosens our tongues. He gives us the grace to pray with authenticity, to speak with clarity, and to witness with courage. This is the fruit of true deliverance—we are freed from evil and empowered for communion. Reflect today on the astonishment of the crowd who cried out, “Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel!” When God frees us from the burden of empty or harmful speech, our natural response will be astonishment and praise. We are made to express love and truth and to share our lives with others within that love and truth. When this happens, we realize the muteness with which we previously struggled and delight in the freedom we attain. Eternal Word of the Father, speak into the silence of my heart. Drive out all confusion, fear, and sin that renders me mute before You. Heal my soul, loosen my tongue, and teach me to speak Your truth in love. May I never be afraid to proclaim Your goodness, build others up, and strengthen Your Kingdom by giving glory to Your holy Name. Jesus, I trust in You.

Responding to Suffering

July 6, 2026 Monday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Readings for Today Saint Maria Goretti, Virgin and Martyr—Optional Memorial

Around the tea-table, by Thomas De Witt Video While Jesus was speaking, an official came forward, knelt down before him, and said, “My daughter has just died. But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live.” Jesus rose and followed him, and so did his disciples. A woman suffering hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the tassel on his cloak. She said to herself, “If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured.” Matthew 9:18–21 Call to mind one of the most painful and difficult moments in your life. Perhaps you endured a serious illness or the illness of a loved one. Perhaps you suffered a deep humiliation or walked with someone close to you through his or her humiliation. Maybe you lost a job, faced mounting bills, and felt helpless. Suffering comes in many forms, and God only permits such trials because, in His wisdom, He perceives a greater good that can come through our patient endurance—if we place all our hope and trust in Him. In today’s Gospel, we meet two unrelated individuals, each burdened with intense suffering. First, a father kneels before Jesus and sorrowfully announces that his daughter has just died. In a remarkable act of faith, he pleads with Jesus to come and lay His hand on her, confident that she will live again. As Jesus proceeds with him, a woman who has suffered silently for twelve years from a hemorrhage approaches from behind and touches the tassel of His cloak, believing that even such a simple act will bring her healing. The sudden death of a beloved daughter and twelve years of physical and emotional anguish are heavy crosses. Though our own trials may differ, we are invited to see ourselves in both of these suffering souls, especially during times of great hardship. The grieving father likely also felt powerlessness. He who had lovingly provided for his daughter from birth—feeding her, protecting her, guiding her—now stands helpless before death, a force he cannot overcome. Or so it seems. The woman with hemorrhages suffered both the physical toll of her affliction and also the social and spiritual isolation imposed by the Mosaic Law. According to Levitical law, her continual bleeding rendered her ritually unclean and cut her off from public worship and communal life. Because her bleeding was constant, so too was her separation—a painful, unending exile. There was nothing she could do to fix her condition. Or was there? In the face of suffering, each of us must choose: Either we turn to God in radical faith and surrender, or we fall into despair, resentment, and rebellion. Suffering rarely leaves us indifferent—it either purifies or hardens the heart. That is why every trial poses a question to us: Will I respond in faith or retreat into bitterness? Both of these suffering souls refused to surrender to despair. Instead, they turned to Jesus with bold and humble faith—one publicly kneeling, the other quietly reaching out. In both cases, their trust was met with Divine Mercy. What the Mosaic Law deemed unclean, Jesus welcomed and restored. He is not defiled by the woman’s touch—He makes her clean. In this, Christ reveals that He is the fulfillment of the Law, the source of every true healing, especially the healing that comes through the Sacraments. In the Eucharist, Reconciliation, and Anointing of the Sick, we too may “touch His garment,” and receive the grace that restores what is broken. Reflect today on the consoling truth that no suffering is too deep, no exile too long, no loss too final for Christ. Whether your wounds are fresh or old, whether you can cry out or can only whisper a prayer in silence, reach for Him. Kneel before Him. Touch the hem of His garment in faith through prayer, the Sacraments, and trustful surrender. He will not turn away. He sees your pain, and if you let Him, He will enter into it, speak words of courage, and raise you up. My empathetic Lord, You see the sufferings of Your people, and Your Heart is moved with compassion for us. When trials arise in my life, help me to see them as gifts—opportunities to step out of my indifference and trust wholeheartedly in You. I believe that You will never permit me to endure anything for which Your grace is not sufficient. Jesus, I do trust in You.

Praying to the Father in the Son

July 5, 2026 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) Readings for Today

Christ with Children by Lawrence OP, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. Video At that time Jesus exclaimed: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” Matthew 11:25–27 This passage beautifully summarizes the entire Christian life—the life to which we are called and in which we find our purpose, meaning, and ultimate fulfillment. Jesus begins by offering praise to the “Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” Though Jesus Himself is fully God, “one in being with the Father”—co-eternal and consubstantial—He nevertheless offers praise to the Father. In the original Greek, the phrase “I give praise to you…” (exomologoumai) indicates an open, public, and full acknowledgment by the Son of the Father’s sovereignty and gracious will. The Father is the All-Powerful Lord of all that exists—everything in the heavens and on earth. Jesus expresses this fundamental stance toward the Father for two reasons: first, because it is eternally true; and second, so that we might humble ourselves and join Him in praying the same prayer—through, with, and in Jesus. This prayer closely parallels the opening of the Lord’s Prayer (the “Our Father”), because both begin with a direct acknowledgment and praise of the Father’s holiness and sovereignty. The Lord’s Prayer is the perfect prayer precisely because it was given to us by Jesus Himself. After addressing the Father, it presents seven petitions. According to Saints Thomas Aquinas and Augustine, the first two petitions—“hallowed be Thy name” and “Thy Kingdom come”—reveal the central purpose of our lives: to glorify God eternally and to be caught up in, and actively participate in that glory by becoming full members of His Kingdom. In today’s prayer, Jesus says “these things” have been revealed “to little ones” and that the Son can choose to reveal the Father to whom He wishes. We are drawn into Jesus’ prayer and intimate relationship with the Father precisely when Jesus reveals the Father to us: “No one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” Because Jesus deeply desires that we come to know and love the Father with the same love He has for Him, His prayer continues by gently inviting us—especially when burdened by weariness, weakness, or sin—to lay our burdens down before His merciful power and glory: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). This tender invitation reveals Jesus’ deepest desire for us: that we would enter into His love for the Father, share intimately in the union between Father and Son, and thus magnify and glorify the Most Holy Trinity—not only in our earthly journey but eternally in Heaven. Indeed, what a sublime and glorious calling we have received! Reflect today upon this beautiful prayer, knowing in your heart that Jesus Himself invites you to pray it with Him, through Him, and in Him. He longs for His voice to resonate within your voice, His love to beat within your heart, and His holy desires to shape your own. Turn your gaze toward the Father—He who is both the Source and ultimate goal of your existence—and strive lovingly and humbly to accomplish all things according to His gracious and holy will. Our Father, You who dwell in the heavens and within the souls of Your sanctified ones, may Your eternal essence, Your holy Name—the One who was, who is, and who is to come, the Great I AM—be honored, praised, and glorified forever. May this glorification shine forth in my life and in the lives of all Your faithful, as we await with joyful hope the return in glory of Your Son, Jesus our Savior, when You, together with Him and the Holy Spirit, will establish the New Heavens and the New Earth. Jesus, I trust in You.

The Eternal Marriage to Come

Saturday, July 4, 2026 Saturday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time Readings for Today Independence Day—USA Optional Memorial Saint Elizabeth of Portugal—Optional Memorial (Celebrated July 5 in the USA)

Word on the Mountain, by Vukkostic Video The disciples of John approached Jesus and said, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” Matthew 9:14–15 In Isaiah 54:5 and Hosea 2:16–20, God is portrayed as the divine Bridegroom who espouses Israel. By invoking this imagery, Jesus reveals His divine identity as the Bridegroom who establishes a new relationship between God and His people—a relationship initially characterized by joy, intimacy, and celebration rather than sorrow. However, Jesus quickly adds a sobering note: “The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” This verse points directly to His coming Passion and death, and to our interior participation in His Passion. It is for those moments that fasting produces a necessary preparation for the sense of loss and sacrifice we are called to make throughout life. Everyone loves a wedding, especially when celebrated by faith-filled people who anticipate a fruitful life together. As the bride walks down the aisle, her face radiates joy, and the groom waits eagerly at the altar. A holy marriage reflects the ultimate destiny of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Fidelity, unity, fruitfulness, consolation, and permanence are all aspects of the communion we are invited to share with our loving God. These beautiful aspects of marriage prophetically anticipate what is to come, especially when the Bridegroom returns in glory to usher in the New Heavens and the New Earth. They also represent what we are invited to experience, by grace, during our earthly pilgrimage toward the final union in Heaven—a relationship with God that is grounded in joy, intimacy, and celebration. During this pilgrimage, the Bridegroom is at times “taken away.” Spiritually speaking, this means that Christ occasionally permits His consoling presence to be withdrawn from the soul. He does this not because He abandons us, but because, in His wisdom, He desires our growth in virtue, faith, and spiritual maturity through trials. Such purification is our participation in Christ’s Passion, which both cleanses and restores the soul, transforming us into the new creation we are called to be by fully dying with and in Christ, so as to share in His new life. When the sensible consolations of grace diminish, the soul experiences spiritual fasting. Although initially painful, this fasting instills a greater urgency to seek Christ through deeper prayer. If we continually felt God’s consoling presence, our love might become self-centered—loving God only because He comforts us. In the Old Testament, fasting primarily expressed external repentance. Jesus transforms fasting into a spiritual exercise that strengthens the soul during trials, dryness, and loss. Habitual fasting, such as weekly abstinence, disciplines our interior life, enabling us to love God even when consolation is absent. When the Bridegroom is “taken away,” our spiritual senses sharpen, and our longing for Christ grows more fervent. Thus, Christ’s apparent absence becomes an opportunity for greater intimacy, guiding us toward a more profound, selfless love—seeking Christ Himself purely for His sake. Reflect today on how you respond when God seems distant. Do you turn toward Him with increased trust and prayer, or do you withdraw? When God seems distant or when your prayer feels dry, do you recognize the value in those moments? Resolve to engage in forms of physical fasting and other penitential acts as a way of training yourself to enter spiritual fasting with hope and strength. Let spiritual fasting become an act of pure love, preparing your heart for the eternal marriage feast to come. My Lord and Bridegroom of the Church, You call each of us, Your sons and daughters, into an eternal marriage of pure union and fidelity with You. Form and purify me by allowing me to share in Your Passion, so that my love may become holy, and I may love You with the same love with which You love me. Jesus, I trust in You.

Faith Born of Encounter

Friday, July 3, 2026

Feast of Saint Thomas the Apostle

Readings for Today

St Thomas by Lawrence OP, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Video

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:24–25

Though Saint Thomas is best remembered for doubting Jesus’ Resurrection, God used him in glorious ways. Because God is all-powerful, even Thomas’ doubt was transformed into a source of grace for the Church and a model of true faith and conversion. In Thomas, we see the journey from doubt to faith, from absence to confession, from fear to peace—an invitation for each of us to make the same journey.

Saint Thomas, called Didymus—meaning “Twin”—was not present when the risen Christ first appeared to the assembled Apostles. His absence was no accident but part of God’s providential plan. When the other disciples testified, “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas struggled to believe. His absence symbolizes the effect of isolation from the Church or from an active life of prayer, which can leave us vulnerable to doubt and disbelief. His heart demanded tangible proof: “Unless I see the mark of the nails… I will not believe.” In this, Thomas articulates a cry that echoes in every human heart: we long for certainty, yet struggle to trust without the proof we demand.

One week later—on the day now celebrated as Divine Mercy Sunday—Jesus once again entered the locked room and stood among them, radiating peace: “Peace be with you.” His first words were directed not to the whole group, but to Thomas, addressing his wounded faith with tender love: “Put your finger here and see my hands… bring your hand and put it into my side.” Jesus does not shame Thomas; He invites him. He invites him to touch the very wounds that conquered death, to enter into the mystery of Divine Mercy not only intellectually, but physically and spiritually.

After being confronted by the Living Christ, Thomas is transformed. In that pivotal moment, he prays one of the greatest confessions of faith in all of Scripture: “My Lord and my God!” With profound clarity, he proclaims the divinity of Christ. The doubting disciple becomes the believing Apostle, who will later be sent forth to bear witness to the ends of the earth.

Thomas’ journey invites us to reflect on our own. Like Thomas, we are sometimes absent from encounters with the risen Lord. Failure to pray daily, to attend Mass faithfully, to confess our sins, to nourish our souls through spiritual reading, adoration, retreats, or parish missions can isolate us from Christ and diminish our faith. Absence from these means of grace can open the door to spiritual doubt and weakness.

If these struggles are familiar to you, take heart in the example of Saint Thomas. If your faith has faltered—especially if you experience serious doubts—or if worldly concerns have drawn you away from the life of grace, then let Thomas’ prayer become your own: “My Lord and my God!” He professed faith in what he saw, so that we might profess faith in Christ whom we do not yet see. That simple little prayer, prayed with the certainty of faith and with sincere passion in the heart, sparks greater faith and brings us the clarity we need.

Reflect today on Thomas being absent from Jesus’ first Resurrection appearance on Easter Sunday. Try to feel his disappointment and doubt. Thomas carried those feelings for an entire week until Jesus appeared again. See yourself in him by identifying any times you have felt the same. Then move forward to the moment, one week later, when Thomas was present as Jesus appeared to them. With him, listen to Jesus invite you to touch His wounds. Profess with Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” Repeat that prayer and try to sense Thomas’ newfound passionate belief. It is that belief our Lord desires from all of us who do not see with our eyes but come to know Him in our spirit.

My Lord and my God! I do believe in You and profess that belief with all my heart. When I struggle with my faith, when I falter, or when I become distracted from my life of prayer and devotion, please remind me of Saint Thomas. Place his words repeatedly on my lips so that I may continuously cry out with him, “My Lord and my God!” Saint Thomas, pray for us. Jesus, I trust in You.

Out of the Ordinary

July 2, 2026
Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Readings for Today

Christ Healing the Lame Man, by Jacopo Bassano

Video

After entering a boat, Jesus made the crossing, and came into his own town. And there people brought to him a paralytic lying on a stretcher. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Courage, child, your sins are forgiven.” Matthew 9:1–2

After making a quick trip across the Sea of Galilee to deliver two men from demonic possession, Jesus and the disciples return to Jesus’ “own town,” likely Capernaum, the fishing village and hometown of Peter, Andrew, James and John, and probably Matthew, whom Jesus had not yet called to be an Apostle.

Though the Gospels say little about Jesus’ ordinary daily life in Capernaum, it is clear that this small town served as a center for His Galilean ministry, becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersected with extraordinary divine grace. Few in Capernaum could have realized that their village would become the center for the unfolding of God’s promise of salvation, from which the teachings of the Messiah would go forth to the world.

Though Jesus’ act of forgiving the paralytic’s sins in today’s Gospel, followed by his miraculous healing, holds great significance, equally important is the setting in which these actions took place. Capernaum, in many ways, represents our hometowns, homes, daily lives, occupations, communities, and families. The Son of God’s entrance into our world did not take place in a visibly magnificent way; it was humble, hidden, and ordinary. Beginning in Bethlehem, Jesus’ birth took place within a dwelling for animals, and He was laid in a feeding trough. Shortly afterward, He narrowly escaped death from Herod, becoming a refugee in Egypt as an infant. Later, Jesus was raised in Nazareth—a small town viewed as insignificant by the wider Judean and Galilean communities. He learned carpentry from Joseph, made pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the Jewish feasts, and lived like any other child and young man.

Even after Jesus began His public ministry, He continued to live a humble and simple life. He was a wandering preacher, traveling on foot through many towns and villages with a band of disciples. He relied on providence for food and shelter, owned little Himself, and related compassionately with people of every status and background.

To the ordinary eye, Jesus was an ordinary man. To the eyes of the Father, He was the Divine Son, cloaked in humility, whose true glory remained hidden from many eyes.

Jesus’ humble, simple, and ordinary life was significant. The Father could have sent His Son into royal splendor and worldly power, establishing Him as an earthly king admired by all. Yet, He chose humility because by embracing the ordinariness of daily life, Jesus sanctified human existence, transforming everyday tasks and encounters into pathways toward union with Him. When we engage in ordinary things in union with Jesus’ life—with His virtue, diligence, dedication, care, and generosity—our daily activities become infused with extraordinary grace.

By becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersect with extraordinary divine grace, we are invited to see every ordinary part of our lives in the same way the people of Capernaum encountered Jesus’ extraordinary grace. Jesus is waiting for us around every corner, in every conversation, duty, and activity. Like in Capernaum, He remains cloaked in humility, often veiled from immediate recognition. With faith, we must discern Him in the ordinary, recognize His humble presence, love Him, and follow Him.

Reflect today on the people of Capernaum and see yourself among them. How would you have reacted to someone who seemed so ordinary yet taught, forgave, and healed with such grace? That same Lord is present all around us in our daily lives, no matter how ordinary they might appear. Look for Him, invite Him into your “town,” and allow Him to sanctify your daily work, drawing you out of the ordinary into the extraordinary life of grace.

My hidden Lord, You are present within me and all around me, yet often I fail to perceive Your humble presence in the ordinary circumstances of my daily life. Grant me the eyes of faith to recognize You, a heart eager to love You, and the strength to follow You faithfully, so that all I do may be infused with Your grace and dedicated to Your eternal glory. Jesus, I trust in You.