Sometimes Grace Looks Like Showing Up Anyway

The more public I become with my story, my books, and my podcast, the more I realize I can’t only share the hopeful parts of my life. If I’m going to talk about authenticity, then I need to actually be authentic. And today was messy.

I woke up in pain. I’ve been dealing with something going on with my left arm and shoulder, and I had an MRI on Friday. I didn’t sleep great, I hurt, and I was in a bad mood. My prayer time didn’t feel very fruitful either. I tried to pray, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I was irritated, uncomfortable, and honestly, I didn’t really want to be around anyone, including myself.

I still made myself get ready for Mass. Then I stood in my closet and cried because I hated everything I put on. Since my hysterectomy this spring, my hormones have been all over the place and I’ve gained weight. I’m working on that with my doctor and dietitian, but knowing that doesn’t make it easier to look in the mirror and feel comfortable in your own body. Eventually, I found a dress I hadn’t worn in years. I put it on, thought I looked frumpy, and went to Mass anyway. I also told myself that after Mass I was going to buy flowers because if I wasn’t going to be cheerful today, at least my apartment could be.

Then God started chipping away at my mood.

People smiled at me when I walked into church, and someone complimented my dress. Fr. Luke gave a homily about not allowing evil to prevail, and something about it hit me exactly where I was. After Mass, more people stopped me. They asked how I was doing. They complimented the dress I had cried over wearing. Someone even wanted to know where I bought it.

Then I went to Walmart for my flowers. As I was walking out, two women I had never met stopped me and told me they loved my dress. One of them said it made me look beautiful and that it just “screamed you're a woman with a great personality.”

I almost laughed. Seriously, God?

These women knew absolutely nothing about the morning I had just had. They didn’t know I had cried in my closet. They didn’t know how uncomfortable I felt in my body. They didn’t know I had gone to Mass in a terrible mood. And they certainly didn’t know that the dress they loved was the same dress I almost didn’t wear because I thought I looked awful in it.

Maybe that was exactly the point.

I think sometimes I expect grace to feel big, obvious, and holy. I expect it to come during beautiful prayer when I feel completely connected to God. But today, grace looked different. Grace looked like making myself go to Mass when I didn’t feel like it. It looked like people noticing me when I wanted to disappear. It looked like a homily I needed to hear. It looked like strangers at Walmart saying something kind at exactly the right moment. And it looked like buying myself flowers because I knew I needed a little beauty around me.

None of the things that were bothering me this morning magically disappeared. I’m still dealing with the pain. I’m still figuring out what’s going on with my shoulder. I’m still working through the changes in my body. But my mood changed. My apartment is a little brighter, and I feel a little more like myself again.

So maybe my prayer time this morning was more fruitful than I thought.

Being open to God doesn’t always mean feeling peaceful, joyful, or particularly prayerful. Sometimes it means coming to Him irritated, hurting, frustrated, and not feeling very much like yourself. It means getting dressed when you would rather stay home, walking through the church doors anyway, and trusting that God can work with whatever you managed to bring Him that day.

Sometimes grace doesn’t change the circumstances.

Sometimes grace simply meets us right in the middle of them.

And sometimes being faithful is as simple as showing up anyway.

Prayer Is Not Another Thing on My To-Do List

People sometimes ask me how I manage to do everything I am doing right now. I am working full-time, taking two graduate classes, writing books and promoting the ones that are already published, preparing for speaking engagements, recording interviews for the Butterfly Girl Podcast, guesting on other podcasts, doing television interviews, attending book events, and handling all of the behind-the-scenes work that comes with trying to share my books and the mission behind them. On paper, it sounds exhausting, and there are certainly days when I am tired or when my calendar looks a little intimidating. Yet most of the time, I feel energized by everything I am doing because so much of it brings me life. I believe these opportunities are connected to what God is asking of me in this season, and writing, speaking, podcasting, sharing stories, continuing my education, and doing meaningful work are all things I genuinely love.

But there is something important that I have come to understand: I would not be able to do any of it if I did not first spend time in prayer. Recently, I was talking with an upcoming guest for the Butterfly Girl Podcast, and our conversation turned to this very thing. We were talking about how easy it is to become consumed by everything we need to accomplish. There are emails to answer, projects to finish, deadlines to meet, appointments to attend, people who need something from us, and goals we are trying to reach. But if we are not first spending time in relationship with Jesus, eventually all of that activity begins to run on our own strength, and our own strength has limits.

The temptation, especially for someone who loves being productive, is to make prayer another item on the to-do list alongside answering emails, finishing assignments, writing another chapter, preparing a presentation, and recording a podcast. But I do not think that is how Jesus wants us to approach prayer. Prayer is not another task I need to complete so I can feel accomplished at the end of the day. Prayer is a relationship. If one of my closest friends asked me to dinner, I would not think about checking “spend time with my friend” off my list. I would make room for that person because the relationship matters to me. I would put it on my calendar, protect that time, sit down, listen, talk, laugh, share what has been happening in my life, and simply enjoy being together. Why should my relationship with Jesus be any different?

Sometimes we need to schedule prayer, but that does not mean we have turned prayer into a task. It means we are intentionally protecting time for a relationship that matters. There is a difference between putting “pray” on a checklist and saying, “This is the time I have set aside to be with Jesus.” For me, that time changes everything. Prayer is where I bring the things I am excited about and the things I am worried about. It is where I wrestle with decisions, surrender the things I cannot control, listen for God's direction, and remember why I am doing all of this in the first place.

Prayer is also where many of my ideas begin. My writing is deeply connected to my prayer. So is my podcast, the way I approach speaking opportunities, and the mission behind my books. The more time I spend with God, the more I recognize that creativity and productivity are not simply about how much I can accomplish. They are about being attentive to what God is asking me to do and being willing to follow where He leads.

I also believe God is blessing my efforts because I am trying to begin with Him. That does not mean every opportunity works out the way I expect or that following God's Will suddenly makes everything easy. It means that before I move forward, I am trying to listen. I am asking God where He wants me, what He wants me to say, which opportunities I should pursue, and which ones I should release. Then I am trying, imperfectly but sincerely, to remain faithful to what I believe He is asking of me. The more that happens, the less I see all of these opportunities as things I have somehow created for myself. I see them as gifts and invitations. My responsibility is not to control the outcome. My responsibility is to listen, respond, and remain faithful.

I have also noticed that when I keep prayer as my highest priority, somehow there is enough time. I am able to work full-time, keep up with graduate school, write, prepare for speaking engagements, record podcasts, promote my books, and say yes to the opportunities God places before me, while still finding time to rest, relax, spend time with friends, laugh, enjoy life, and simply be present. That balance matters to me because I do not believe God is calling me to accomplish as much as possible at the expense of everything else. Rest matters. Friendship matters. Joy matters. Taking an evening to relax matters. Spending time with people I love matters.

Prayer does not seem to take time away from everything else. Instead, it helps everything else fall into its proper place. When prayer comes first, I am more intentional with the time I have. I am less likely to spend energy on things God is not asking me to carry. I can work hard when it is time to work and rest without feeling guilty when it is time to rest. There is a freedom in knowing that I do not have to do everything. I simply need to be faithful to what God is asking of me today.

That has been especially meaningful to me as we prepare for Venerable Fulton J. Sheen's beatification. His life and witness have become such an important part of my ministry, and I have been intentionally asking for his intercession. I ask him to pray for me, to help guide this ministry, and to help me use whatever opportunities God gives me for His glory. It is not lost on me that, during this particular season, so many doors have been opening.

As a Catholic, I believe in the communion of saints, and I believe that those who have gone before us can intercede for us before the Father. So yes, I believe Venerable Fulton Sheen is praying for me and advocating for this ministry before the Father because I have specifically asked for his intercession. There is something both humbling and beautiful about that. I am doing the work in front of me, but I know I am not doing it alone.

There will always be more things I could do. There will always be another project, another opportunity, another email, another idea, and another goal. Prayer helps me discern which ones are actually mine. It reminds me that my value is not measured by the number of things I accomplish. I do not have to prove anything to God by being busy. The purpose of prayer is not to make God help me become more productive. The purpose of prayer is to know Him. And strangely enough, when that relationship comes first, everything else begins to find its proper place.

I have more clarity about what deserves my attention. I recognize when I need to say yes and when I need to say no. I am able to approach the work in front of me with more peace because I am reminded that I am not carrying the mission alone. Sometimes we tell ourselves that we will pray when life slows down, perhaps after this semester, after this deadline, after this event, after work settles down, or after we finish everything else. But life rarely slows down on its own. If a relationship matters, we make room for it in the life we are living right now.

Maybe the invitation is not simply to “find more time to pray.” Maybe it is to make an appointment with Jesus. Put the time on your calendar if you need to and protect it the same way you would protect dinner with someone you love. Bring your coffee. Bring your Bible. Sit in Adoration. Go for a walk and talk with Him. Spend time with Scripture. Sit quietly in His presence. Do not approach that time wondering how quickly you can finish it so you can move on to everything else. Spend time with a Friend.

I am learning that the fuller my life becomes with opportunities, responsibilities, dreams, relationships, and work that I love, the more important that relationship becomes. I may be energized by everything I am doing, but Jesus is the source of that energy. Before the books, before the podcast, before the speaking engagements, before school, before work, before the interviews, and before the next opportunity, there has to be time with Him. And when I give Him that time first, I continue to be amazed by how much there is still time for afterward. There is time for the work He is asking me to do, time for the people He has placed in my life, and time to rest and enjoy the life He has given me.

Prayer is not the first thing on my to-do list. Jesus is the One I want beside me through everything else.

Learning Where to Spend My Heart: A Friend Who Stays

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about friendship. About the people who come into our lives, the people who stay, the people who slowly drift away, and the people we eventually realize may not have been the friends we thought they were.

There are people I could be angry with. There are friendships I could look back on and list all the ways I showed up, all the times I reached out, and all the ways I cared, and then compare those things to what I received in return. But I don’t want to live that way. I’m not angry. If anything, I think I’m finally learning.

I’m learning that one of the gifts of getting older is becoming more intentional about where I spend my energy and, maybe even more importantly, where I spend my heart. For a long time, I think I believed that if I cared enough, tried hard enough, checked in often enough, or continued to show up, I could somehow keep every relationship intact. When someone became distant, my instinct was often to wonder what I could do differently. Should I reach out? Should I try again? Did I do something wrong? Do they still care?

There comes a point when those questions become exhausting. Not because the people involved are necessarily bad people and not because every friendship that changes needs a villain. Sometimes people simply change. Lives move in different directions. Priorities shift. Seasons end. Sometimes we also have to admit that a relationship meant more to us than it did to the other person. There is sadness in realizing that, but there can also be freedom.

Somewhere along the way, I began paying attention to the people who didn’t make me wonder. They are the people who send a text out of nowhere saying, “I was thinking about you.” They are the people who call just because. They remember something I mentioned weeks ago and ask me about it. They don’t need anything from me. They aren’t reaching out because they need a favor, an answer, a connection, or something I can provide. They simply thought of me and wanted me to know.

There is something incredibly beautiful about being remembered.

Those small moments have taught me more about friendship than some of the bigger gestures ever have. They have also taught me that genuine friendship doesn’t require chasing. That doesn’t mean friendship doesn’t require effort. Of course it does. Loving another person requires intentionality, sacrifice, patience, forgiveness, and sometimes choosing to show up when it isn’t convenient. But there is a difference between investing in a friendship and carrying one.

I’m learning that difference. I’m learning that I can care deeply about someone and still recognize when it is time to stop chasing the relationship. I can be grateful for what someone once meant to me without being angry that things have changed. I can wish someone well from a distance. I can let go without resentment. I can choose to spend more of my energy loving the people who are actually present.

As I have reflected on all of this, though, I keep coming back to something deeper. For all the lessons human friendship has taught me, there is one friendship in my life that is unlike every other. It is my friendship with the Lord. Maybe I appreciate that friendship more deeply now precisely because I have experienced the imperfections of human relationships.

People disappoint us. Not always intentionally. Sometimes they don’t know what we need. Sometimes they’re carrying things we know nothing about. Sometimes they forget. Sometimes they misunderstand us. Sometimes they simply don’t have the capacity to show up in the way we hoped they would. I know I have disappointed people, too. I’m human, and so are they.

But Jesus is different.

When I look back over my life, through every season and every version of myself, He has been there. There were times when I recognized Him immediately and there were times when I didn’t. There were moments when His presence felt almost tangible and others when I wondered why He seemed so quiet. Yet when I look back now, I can see Him.

He was there in the joy and in the heartbreak. He was there when people surrounded me and when I felt completely alone. He was there when I had beautiful words to pray and when all I could offer Him was silence. He has heard the prayers I have prayed a hundred times. He has listened to the questions I still don’t have answers to. He has received my gratitude, my frustration, my tears, my laughter, my confusion, my hope, and everything in between.

And He has stayed.

There is something about that word that means more to me these days. Jesus has stayed. He knows every part of me, including the parts I readily share with others and the parts I would rather keep hidden, and He stays. I don’t have to earn His attention. I don’t have to wonder whether I am bothering Him. I don’t have to make myself useful so that He will want me around. I don’t have to perform for Him. I can simply come.

Maybe that is why Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John have become so beautiful to me: “I have called you friends.” (John 15:15)

Friends.

The God of the universe doesn’t merely allow me to approach Him. He desires a relationship with me. He wants my heart. The more I understand that, the more I realize how often I have expected human relationships to give me something that only God can completely provide. I have wanted people to make me feel known, but Jesus already knows me. I have wanted people to make me feel remembered, but Jesus has never forgotten me. I have wanted people to reassure me that I matter, but Jesus settled that question on the Cross. I have wanted people to stay, but Jesus already promised that He would.

That doesn’t make human friendship less important. If anything, I think it makes it more beautiful. When I stop asking another person to fill a place in my heart that belongs to God, I become freer to simply receive that person as the gift they are. I can appreciate the friend who sends the unexpected text without needing them to always say exactly the right thing. I can treasure the person who calls to check in without expecting them to always know when I need them. I can forgive people when they disappoint me because I know I have disappointed others, too. I can recognize when a friendship has changed without allowing that change to determine what I believe about myself.

Maybe that’s what I’m learning in this season. Not everyone who enters my life is meant to stay forever. Not every relationship deserves the same amount of my time and energy. Not every friendship needs to be rescued, and not every goodbye needs to become a source of anger.

Sometimes we simply learn. We learn who checks in, who remembers, who celebrates with us, and who sits with us when there is nothing they can fix. We learn who wants our presence rather than simply what we can offer them. Hopefully, those experiences also make us ask ourselves an important question: Am I that kind of friend to others?

This reflection isn’t only about noticing who has or hasn’t shown up for me. It’s also about becoming more aware of how I show up for the people God has entrusted to me. Do I send the text when someone crosses my mind? Do I make the call? Do I remember? Do I listen without immediately trying to fix things? Do I celebrate someone else’s joy without comparing it to my own life? Do I make people feel like they matter apart from what they can do for me?

Maybe those quiet nudges to reach out to someone are sometimes God’s way of allowing us to become His presence to another person. Maybe some of the unexpected texts and phone calls I have received were His way of reminding me through someone else, “I see you. I haven’t forgotten you.”

I don’t know, but I do know that I want to pay closer attention. I want to spend less energy chasing people and more energy loving people. I want to hold relationships with open hands instead of clenched fists. I want to be grateful for those who walk beside me without demanding that they promise to walk beside me forever. When someone doesn’t stay, I want to be able to let them go without allowing disappointment to harden my heart.

Ultimately, no human being can promise me forever. But Jesus can.

So, no, I’m not angry at the people who turned out not to be the friends I thought they were. There may still be sadness. There may still be disappointment. But there is also gratitude for what those experiences have taught me. They have taught me to be more intentional about where I expend my energy. They have taught me to notice the people who quietly and consistently show up. They have taught me not to chase affection or friendship. They have taught me to ask whether I am giving others the kind of friendship I hope to receive.

Perhaps most importantly, they have reminded me where my heart ultimately belongs. Human friendships will change. People will come and go. Some will surprise me with how faithfully they stay, and others will surprise me when they don’t. Underneath all of those relationships, though, is the friendship that has carried me through every season of my life.

Jesus is the One who has seen every version of me and loved me through all of them. He is the One who knows the entire story and still calls me friend. He is the One who doesn’t just send a reminder that He is thinking about me, but continually finds ways to remind me that I have never left His thoughts. He is the One who remains, no matter how many other relationships change.

Maybe learning where to spend my heart begins there, with the Friend who has had it all along.