Blog

Becoming Brave: Baby Steps Toward His Kingdom

13/5/2025

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, May 18th, 2025:
Fifth Sunday of Easter

Acts
14.21b-27

Paul and Barnabas returned to Lystra, then on to Iconium and Antioch. There they strengthened the souls of the disciples and encouraged them to continue in the faith, saying, “It is through many persecutions that we must enter the kingdom of God.” And after they had appointed elders for them in each Church, with prayer and fasting they entrusted them to the Lord in whom they had come to believe.

Then they passed through Pisidia and came to Pamphylia. When they had spoken the word in Perga, they went down to Attalia. From there they sailed back to Antioch, where they had been commended to the grace of God for the work that they had completed.

When they arrived, they called the Church together and related all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith for the Gentiles.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

After I became Catholic in 2023, I visited my dad and stepmother in New Brunswick – my first time in over a decade. At dinner, my stepmother asked if I was visiting after all this time because I’d “found God.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but that’s not entirely why. At 53, I’m aware of the finite number of Christmases and summertimes we have left. I haven’t made an effort to nurture our relationship in the past 10 years, and finding God is giving me the courage to change that.”
Hearing this opened the door for my stepmother to share her heart. She said that she doesn’t believe in God. That hurt to hear, and I kept listening. I sensed her non-belief was rooted in deep loss.

In 2022, due to complications from COVID, she lost her grandson. He had lived with muscular dystrophy, and she had cherished every moment of his 31 years. But her grief was still raw in our conversation; she was angry, heartbroken, and she missed him terribly.

That night, she said, “Why would God take him away? Why give him MD? Why let him die?”

I didn’t have answers. I was still new to speaking about my faith and didn’t want to sound preachy. Pain is pain – and no words could take that away.

Later, my husband and I talked about it. We believe that God doesn’t test us, but that He is with us in our suffering. There may not always be a reason we understand, but God supports us as we try to make sense of what we can’t. And I believe He gave her grandson the best life possible – for his whole life.

I also realized I would need to be better prepared next time. The opportunity to share God’s goodness can come unexpectedly, and next time I want to be ready.

This week’s Gospel gives us a peek into the Apostles’ journey. It reminds us that enduring hardship for Jesus is not a fluke or a mistake. Entering God’s kingdom means facing trials that test our faith and trust in Him.

In those early days of Christianity, openly believing in Jesus could get you stoned or run out of town. Today, my challenge is more about being willing to feel awkward or sound preachy. And, if it’s in His name, it’s never a mistake. There is nothing to fear.

I’m hungry to learn what I need to be part of His kingdom. After reading and praying on this Scripture, its wisdom feels simple: when you believe in Jesus, you do hard things.

Was my conversation with my stepmother a missed opportunity to share God’s word? Maybe.

Will I be ready next time? Yes.

Will I pray for her now? Definitely.

Is God leading me deeper in faith? Absolutely.

That conversation wasn’t a significant trial, but it raised a big question: How do I become brave enough to proclaim my faith?

Through Scripture and prayer, I feel Him guiding me. These are the baby steps on my journey. He is showing me His plan – and, in that, I am becoming brave.

Jacinda Whebby

1 Comment

Forever Held

9/5/2025

0 Comments

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter

John
10:27-30

Jesus said: “My sheep hear My voice. I know them, and they follow Me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of My hand. What my Father has given Me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

“My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me…”

Have you ever felt like you're being pulled in a dozen directions at once? The laundry's piling up, texts are unanswered, your to-do list is a mile long—and in the middle of it all, someone asks, “How are you?” and you don’t even know how to answer. Just… tired?

Today’s Gospel speaks right into that space. Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”

He knows us. Not in a distant, formal way—but intimately. He knows your heart, your worries, your longings, your exhausted prayers whispered over a kitchen sink or steering wheel. And He isn’t waiting for you to have it all together before you come to Him. He’s already speaking. The question is: do we recognize His voice in the noise?

This passage isn’t about achieving some perfect level of holiness. It’s about trust. It's about following the One who calls you by name and promises that no one can snatch you from His hand. Not your past, not your fear, not even your own doubts.

Maybe today, following His voice looks like choosing to rest when you feel pressure to keep pushing. Maybe it’s reaching out to someone you’ve been meaning to check on. Or maybe it’s simply pausing to remember: I belong to Jesus. I am not alone.

The Gospel ends with these words: “The Father and I are one.” In Jesus, we are not only loved—we are held by the very heart of God. That truth doesn’t take away the chaos of life, but it gives us something firm to stand on in the middle of it.

You are known. You are seen. You are safe in His hands.

Theresa Langley

0 Comments

In Praise of the Lamb

8/5/2025

0 Comments

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter

Revelation
7:9, 14b-17

After this I, John, looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.

And one of the elders then said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship Him day and night within His temple, and the One who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be their shepherd, and He will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

When I read the Second Reading for this coming Sunday, my first thought was, “Ooh, sheep!” With the exception of vines and vine growers, no other scriptural motif rings bells for me the way the sheep and shepherd image does. It has made a profound impression on my life because the more I understand the relationship between sheep and shepherd, the more I understand my relationship to Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

(If identifying yourself as a sheep is distasteful to you, I understand. Enter the search term “person as sheep” in your browser, and the results will describe that person as stupid, timid, and easily led. To be fair though, sheep are very social creatures. They learn to recognize and trust the shepherd’s unique voice. They form attachments to the others in the flock so that they stick up for each other in the face of bullying, and they miss their flock mates when they are apart from them.)

Normally, the sheep-shepherd metaphor casts us in the role of sheep and Jesus in the role of shepherd, but this passage from the Book of Revelation is different. Here, the main focus is on Jesus as the Lamb. When I think about that, my heart grows warm.

Not only has Jesus abandoned His divinity to become a sheep like us, He has become even weaker—a lamb that will be sacrificed to save us, the other sheep. So vast is the outpouring of His blood that “a great multitude that no one could count” can bathe in it and make their robes white. This is the Lamb who sheltered them on their journey through the “great ordeal” (and it seems that the word “shelter” here means to “spread a tent over”—what an image). The Lamb of God suffers the same pains we suffer in the great ordeal. He walks with us through the valleys so that we will learn to listen for the sound of His voice. He pitches a tent for our protection so that we will seek shelter with Him and trust Him. He feeds us and guides us to the “springs of the water of life” so that we will have enough strength to survive the ordeal. And, finally, He spills His blood to wash us clean of the filth we have accumulated along the way.

Praise God for such a Shepherd! Praise God for such a Lamb!

Donna Davis

0 Comments

I Am A... Sheep?

7/5/2025

2 Comments

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter

Psalm 100

R: We are his people: the sheep of his pasture.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come into his presence with singing.

R: We are his people: the sheep of his pasture.

Know that the Lord is God. It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

R: We are his people: the sheep of his pasture.

For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

R: We are his people: the sheep of his pasture.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

A shepherd is one of the oldest human professions; indeed, it’s the profession of the young King David, to whom many of the psalms are attributed. How interesting that David, who well knows what it means to be a shepherd, sings praise to God, and considers himself, and all of the Jews, to be the “sheep of His pasture.” It makes sense to me when I consider that it was an easily understood analogy for the Jewish people, shepherds and sheep being more commonplace at that time.

But if someone actually compared me to a sheep, I’m quite sure that to rejoice and sing glad songs of praise wouldn’t be my first move. I’ve never heard anyone rejoice at being compared to a sheep: the implication is one of being a follower, a little (or a lot) helpless, vulnerable, and not so smart.

It requires a great deal of humility to place myself in the same category as a sheep. To admit that I need care, protection, and direction completely undermines the hard-won rights of women to independence and self-determination, does it not?

So why, then, do I find it so comforting to think of God as my shepherd? Well, I suppose it has something to do with the fact that, in my life, I’ve gotten pretty hopelessly lost. I’ve been wounded, physically and emotionally, by those who were doing things “their way” and by my own insistence on doing things “my way.” I thought I was pretty smart and darn tough.

Interestingly, the remedy for my pain has been following Jesus—helplessly and vulnerably opening my heart to receive His care, and recognizing that my wisdom lies in His wisdom. The truth is, the more I allow God to be my Shepherd, the smarter and stronger I become. It’s all about recognizing the right person to follow—and that is not me. His Love is more steadfast than any other love, and this gladly makes me sing with joy to be a sheep of His pasture.

Lindsay Elford

2 Comments

<<Previous

Becoming Brave: Baby Steps Toward His Kingdom

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, May 18th, 2025:Fifth Sunday of Easter

Forever Held

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:Fourth Sunday of Easter

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

In Praise of the Lamb

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:Fourth Sunday of Easter

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

I Am A... Sheep?

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:Fourth Sunday of Easter

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Archives

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, May 18th, 2025:
Fifth Sunday of Easter

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, May 11th, 2025:
Fourth Sunday of Easter