Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “MOTHER”

By Michelle Buckman

Mother. A multitude of emotions are attached to that word, universal and yet uniquely built on each individual’s life experiences.

Mother conjures up flashes of childhood memories: bedtime stories and birthday parties, learning to swim, to ride a bike, and then letting go of mother’s hand to spend the night at a friend’s house for the first time. High school and learning to drive, wanting freedom and then wanting to be held after a ruined friendship, hurt feelings, a day that seems like the end of the world.

Mother is there for all of it, good and bad, ups and downs, bound by heartstrings that we often take for granted until we are called to that same path and gaze upon our own child. Then we understand it all in a whole new way: an immeasurable love that guides us as we learn by trial and error how to fill the same role in a new way, a new world, a new reality. So much joy! First smiles, first words, first steps. So much anxiety! First fever, first fall, first fight.

My favorite scene in The Passion is the flashback Mary has of Jesus scraping his knee as a child. Mary rushes to Jesus’s side to comfort him. I like to think of Mary that way, the humanness of their relationship, the everyday mothering that still continues today: boo-boos and washing and preparing meals.

Mary taught Jesus to walk. She listened to his jokes, and told him stories. And she lost track of him for a bit when all the cousins got together. (Take a parent’s normal panic over losing track of a child and add on the image of God showing up and asking where his son is!)

I like to think about her cuddling him in her lap and telling him stories, of making him wash behind his ears, and sewing his clothes. But I also like to think about later years, that sweet time when a boy develops into a man, but still needs his mama, and wants to take a walk with her down a country road, or have a chat in the shade of an old oak tree.

Mary watched Jesus grow up and nudged him onto his path at the wedding in Cana, then stood aside likely knowing where his path would lead. Did Jesus tell her what was going to happen? Did they lie on a hillside under the stars at night and confide in each other?

As Catholics, we have been raised to understand Mary in that endearing way. We embrace her not only because of the important role she played, but because we know she can sympathize with our family problems.

Christians often ask, “What would Jesus do?” But I also like to ponder, “What would Mary do?” because she understands the demands of motherhood. Mary has walked this path and knows there is nothing more challenging or more rewarding for a woman than being a mother.

–

Michelle Buckman is the award-winning author of Rachel’s Contrition (which I loved, a LOT) and has some other awesome fiction to her credit as well. 

images in this post are from the movie The Passion of the Christ

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “WORD”

By Barb Szyszkiewicz

How many of the contributors to this wonderful “Hail Mary one word at a time” project have mentioned a woman’s influence in their own devotion–usually a mother or grandmother? I haven’t counted, but it seems like there have been quite a few. Guess what: there’s one more.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house. I loved to visit her and even remember telling her that when I grew up, I was going to move in! There was no doubt that her home was a Catholic home. “My” chair in the kitchen faced a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Help, an image that to this day makes me think of my grandmother. After she died, I put a holy card with this image on my kitchen windowsill so that my kitchen, too, would be graced by the Blessed Mother.

My grandmother’s kitchen was the heart of her home, and not just because she made the world’s best potato salad and roast chicken there. More importantly, she did her praying there.

Through her example, she showed me the importance of being dedicated to daily prayer. She had an envelope full of holy cards with prayers and novenas on the back and would work through the entire stack daily. It was part of her routine; it was integral to her life. When one of us kids would come into the kitchen bursting with a story or a riddle to tell, she’d listen a moment and then quietly remind us, “I’m saying my prayers,” and we’d wander off and try to silently raid the candy dish until she finished. She didn’t yell at us to stop interrupting, no matter how many times we did.

Those quiet witnesses in the kitchen really stuck with me. My grandmother wove prayer into her daily life. What an example to set for her family!

It is in my own kitchen, not surprisingly, that I feel closest to Mary. It is there that I serve my family–just as Mary once served hers. It’s a place of work and a place of prayer.

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Barb Szyszkiewicz is a wife, mom of three, Secular Franciscan, homemaker, and freelance writer who blogs at Franciscan Mom and Mom’s Fridge. She’s been a “virtual but real-life” friend in my life for many years now, and it’s a joy and pleasure to have her as part of this series!

image credit: Our Lady of Perpetual Help, provided by the author

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “HOLY”

By Karina Fabian

I have a lot of friends, especially through Facebook, the Catholic Writers Guild, and other groups, who don’t hesitate to ask for prayers for themselves or for those they know.  And I have just as many who are glad to say prayers for me or my family and friends times of need.

Prayer does more than send a message to God; it gives us comfort, even if it’s just the comfort of knowing someone is laying our aching hearts in God’s tender hands.

Yet there is something special about asking Mary to pray for us, and it comes down to that word: Holy.

Mary was a woman like any woman and at the same time, something more.  God chose her, and in her beautiful, holy sacrifice of bearing His son, she chose Him in a way no other woman can.  She shares an ineffable closeness with the Trinity:  handmaid of the Father, vessel of the Spirit, mother of the Son.  Her being and her actions brought her to holiness.

When Mary prays for us, she is more than offering comfort or sending a message to our Lord.  She is also holding our hearts in her hands, the same hands that caressed Jesus’ brow and comforted him as a baby.  She is pressing them upon Him as a parent might give a child something precious and alive to hold.  She loves with a heart big enough to embrace the world because becoming the Mother of God gave her that ability.

Mary is not god or a goddess, as some people claim we Catholics think.  But she is something more than woman, more than a saint.

She is holy.

–

Karina Fabian is an acclaimed author of a number of books and can be found blogging at “Rocket Science for the Rest of Us” and at “Fabianspace.” She’s a founding member of the Catholic Writers Guild and to call me a fangirl is not an exaggeration. Karina is truly as awesome in person as the characters she crafts.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “JESUS”

By Walt Staples

In reciting the “Hail Mary,” at the end of the second line, one comes to the Word which is the point of the whole exercise, “Jesus.”

This fruit of Mary’s womb smiles back at me from the arms of the Bavarian Virgin on my desk as she dances with her child, just as I’ve watched my wife dance with our children when they were babes.

But who is this Jesus?

Is He the Victorian Jesus who appears to say, “There, there,” and seems to be trying to reassure the comfortable? Is He the angry rebel Jesus of the the Jackson Browne song who appears to snarl at these same comfortable? Is He the confused, swept away Jesus of Anderew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s depiction on Broadway?

Is He the deeply-moved Jesus, with His arms thrown around one of the faithful who made it to that reward above all others, in the painting that draws sneers from the super cool? Is He the tired, smelly, wood shaving covered workman at the end of a long day as suggested by one thoughtful priest? Is He the friendly, fun to be around guest at the marriage feast as shown by the pen and ink drawing known as the “Laughing Christ?”

Is He the wise rabbi who is sharp with those who know better but gentle with those who don’t?  Is He the agonized, bleeding man suffering because of the sins each of us commit with little thought, that is represented by a Spanish bust? Is He the baby smiling at me as His mother gayly dances barefoot with Him on my desk?

Perhaps He is all of these. Man is a finite creature attempting to get his or her head around the Infinite. We are only able to catch facets of this visible part of the Trinity at the best of times; not because He keeps Himself hidden from us but, rather, because of our own limitations.

H.G. Wells used the simile of a fox attempting to understand a steam locomotive in his book, War of the Worlds. We often seem in the same position in trying to understand the Infinite. But, unlike Wells’ fox, we have something going for us; we are God’s children—He tells us so quite often. And like children, we have the capacity to learn as we mature. This holds out the hope that when we each finally meet up with Jesus—some by direct route, most via Purgatory—we’ll understand a lot more.

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Walt sent me this contribution shortly after I asked him if he would be interested in participating in this project. He passed away in mid-March, and I hope he has found his direct route to find the answer for himself as to which Jesus it is.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “WOMB”

By Kevin Lowry

Womb. What a great word. Of course, we don’t actually use the word much anymore. It’s a “uterus” or worse, an “oven” (as in, she’s got a bun in the oven).

What a happy absurdity for a guy to write a guest post on the word womb.  Never had one, never will. Why would anyone, let alone Sarah’s scholarettes and esteemed blog followers, give a rip about what I have to say? The word womb itself has esoteric connotations… for a man, writing about the womb is like trying to write about the joys of shopping, or why crying can be a good thing, or why women go to the bathroom at the same time when they’re together at a restaurant. We don’t get it at all.

Yet here’s what impresses me about the womb in the context of the Hail Mary. In a very practical, concrete sense (that even a guy can grasp), Mary’s assent to the angel at the annunciation gave God a big thumbs-up to change her from within. Of course, this would be manifested externally soon enough, and Mary was certainly aware of the possible ramifications. But she said yes anyway.

In my conversion to the Church, the thing that first caught my attention was the teaching on artificial birth control. At the time, I was Presbyterian, and the topic was a non-issue. After questioning (at some length) what substances my classmates at Franciscan University were inhaling or otherwise ingesting, I had to listen. At least well enough to pass the class. Sex has something to do with babies? Actions have consequences? Responsibility? It was all quite appalling.

Later, some guy named Scott Hahn gave me a rosary. I had no idea what it was. But there I was, and I had the audacity and lack of judgment to use it. What was I thinking?

You know where this all leads – my wife and I faced the inevitable, and entered the Church. We have eight kids.

Wouldn’t you know it, twenty years later, I still don’t fully understand the Hail Mary – but it’s my favorite prayer. And I know one thing – without the women in my life who opened their wombs out of love, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Or I wouldn’t be at all.

I’m a rather obtuse guy, for sure, but also one who wants more than anything to give God a thumbs up to change me from within – not via a womb, of course, but in my interior, spiritual life. To be more like the next word in the Hail Mary – the Word Incarnate Himself. Jesus.

–

Kevin Lowry is an enthusiastic Catholic, husband, father, and serves as Chief Operating Officer of the Coming Home Network International. His first book, Faith at Work: Finding Purpose Beyond the Paycheck, was just released by Our Sunday Visitor. Kevin’s website and blog can be found at Grateful Convert. He’s also an Ohio resident, which makes him a rockin’ awesome guy.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “THY”

By Dorian Speed

What’s so special about Mary, huh?

That’s what “THY” provokes in me – a memory of myself as the pettiest of teacher’s pets, grousing in my room about why Mary gets all the attention. What about ME? I am in the green group for reading, and I can play three hymns on the piano, and I always get chosen to write names on the board when the teacher is out of the room. Why should Mary get all this attention?

I’m happy to report this memory dates back to 1981, but I must admit I still struggle with the same sins – pride, jealousy, selfishness. And though I’ve matured a bit since first grade, I do still find Mary a bit of a mystery. My affection for her has grown, particularly since becoming a mother myself. At the same time, I understand why some find Marian devotion baffling at best.

So what is so special about Mary? It comes down to two words - fiat and magnificat.

Fiat - “let it be done.” She lived her life in perfect unity with the will of God. This is so difficult for me to wrap my mind around – to imagine myself at the foot of the cross, not lashing out at the crowd, but offering up a heart pierced by a sword. I can’t understand her forgiveness, and I can’t understand her humility, but I can look to her as a model of both.

Magnificat - from Magnificat anima mea Dominum - “my soul declares the greatness of the Lord.” She held nothing back – no hidden corner of her soul where she kept her List of Grudges, no gloating over her perfection. And because she devoted her entire being to God, her life was a reflection of His glory.

Every once in a blue moon, I understand what this means – my soul rejoices in the glory of God. Triggers include: sweet baby kisses, tomatoes that actually taste like tomatoes, a gap-toothed grin on a face full of freckles. And I see that my soul is proclaiming the glory of the Lord not because I did something super-amazing, but because I am allowing myself to cooperate fully with Him at that moment.

This, then, is what makes Mary unique, and if I can take my mind off myself long enough to contemplate her fullness of grace, perhaps I can bring a little more fiat and magnificat into my own life.

–

Dorian Speed is a writer and web designer who blogs about culture, family, faith and random craft projects at Scrutinies.net. She’s also the genius behind the design of my blog, so if you’re reading this in a feed reader, do take a moment to click through and admire her handiwork.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “OF”

By Lisa M. Hendey

My friend Sarah Reinhard has a permanent spot on my “superhero” list of friends – so gracious has she been with sharing her time and talents that I feel like I’ll never succeed in returning the many favors I owe her. But even more than Sarah’s ability to blog or podcast with such aplomb on a second’s notice, the thing that draws her so near to the center of my heart is the way in which she’s come to help me better know and love Mary, our Blessed Mother.

So when Sarah asks, I try to respond from the default position of “yes”. When she invited me to be a part of this special project, there was no reservation in my consent. She’s been generous with her patience in my taking every last second to meet my deadline – and here I am, virtual pencil sharpened, ready to take on the work of saying something completely earth shattering and inspirational about my word – “of”.

… And it’s not even the first “of” in the Hail Mary. My “of” is the second of four in this forty-two word prayer that has enkindled so many hearts. And you’ve already been gifted such a fabulous treatment of the first “of” by Carol Ann Chybowski (who holds a Master’s in English Literature for goodness sake!), that I find myself completely at a loss. Lacking Carol Ann’s literary style, my ponderings of the word “of” remind me of some of the best words I’ve ever heard on praying the Rosary.

If the following sounds familiar to you, it’s perhaps because I shared this same bit of wisdom in The Handbook for Catholic Moms in my chapter on Mary. Their author is my favorite Irish pastor, Msgr. Michael Collins, who I sincerely hope now has at least one little toe out of purgatory and into heaven. The following should be read with the lilting Irish accent of a 92-year-old parish priest who was about to meet his Maker:

Please say the Rosary.  I’ve always been afraid of Hell, I don’t like Hell, but I’m convinced that if I’m true to the Rosary, which I have been – I’ve said the Rosary ever since I was a child, I’ve never deliberately missed the Rosary and I don’t say that as a boast, I say that as kind of an assurance that if I ask the Blessed Mother fifty times a day to be with me now and at the hour of my death she’ll be around somewhere to take me home.

Simple thoughts, a simple prayer made up of a handful of short, simple words. Yet when collected together, they hold the ticket to such profound grace. Yes, our Blessed Mother is there for us to lead us to the fruit “of” her womb: Jesus Christ.

What a blessing to know with such confidence as Father Collins did that she who loved –and continues to love – with such tenderness through so much pain, has unending patience with my shortcomings. Forty-two words, recited in a matter of minutes, and yet how often I rattle through them mindlessly, neglecting the grace of each syllable – even of that second “of”, or forget them all together in my busyness.

They deserve such awe, such reverence and such thanksgiving. Each of them, collected together in our hearts, and expressed in confident love, take us Home.

–

Lisa M. Hendey, founder and editor of www.CatholicMom.com, is the author of A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms and The Handbook for Catholic Moms. She has claimed the title of President of the Sarah Reinhard fan club. She is also one of the most amazing people I know and continues to inspire me with her ongoing faith and example.

image via Trendy Traditions

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “FRUIT”

By Pat Gohn

Bite into any lush, ripened, fresh fruit and you feel the gush of juices between your lips and running down along your tongue to the little well underneath. You move the pulpy flesh of the fruit around in your mouth, gliding it in place with your tongue to chew. Depending on the variety of fruit, you may experience momentary dripping down your cheek or lower dimples as you savor the flavor and enjoy that first full bite.

The fruit was where the trouble started. One taste of the fruit of the tree — the tree that God had expressly forbidden (Cf. Gen 2:2-3) — and Eve was in deep trouble.

One bite of the fruit and Eve was mesmerized. Her knowledge grew immediately, but in ways she did not expect. She expected to be like God; duped, instead she became a lesser mortal than before. The preternatural gifts she was endowed with by her Creator were shut down. No longer blessed with infused knowledge, she could not see the truth of her present situation. She gave the fruit to Adam.

The woman, the fruit-gatherer and eventual fruit bearer, unwittingly tasted decay and death disguised as a temporary tasty morsel that slid down the back of her throat. The mother of all the living had triggered the trap door leading to separation from God and eventual suffering and death. Her husband, unable to withstand the temptation, also acquiesced and took a bite.

We know the rest of the story.

The Divine Will and Providence of God so loved the man and the woman and their progeny — us!– that He sent them a Way out of their plight. But first God would cultivate a new fruit, and a new fruit bearer.

The Woman, the one that God envisioned from the start (Cf. Gen 3:15), would, one day, bear the fruit that saves humanity from its sins.

It was St. Irenaeus who taught, the knot Eve tied was untied by Mary. St Louis de Montfort also spoke a deep truth: “The salvation of the whole world began with the ‘Hail Mary’. Hence, the salvation of each person is also attached to this prayer.”

Only Mary, God’s pure and perfect creature, the masterpiece of Creation, could bear such good fruit, both in word and deed. Jesus, the offspring of the Virgin’s womb, was indeed the blessed fruit of a remarkable, holy union… the sign and promise of the wedding of God to his Creation.

We sing of it with every note of Ave Maria, and pray it with every syllable of “Hail, Mary!”

The fruit we sing of and adore in the center of this prayer is the vital and everlasting fruit of Mary’s womb, JESUS!

The fruit — Jesus! – would sweeten and strengthen humanity, answering every angelic prayer of heaven and longsuffering mortal supplication of earth since that fateful day in the Garden.

Not surprisingly, we can understand why the Fruit that is Jesus would one day be eaten.

Jesus would lay his own flesh down to be food and those who eat of it would partake of eternity (Jn 6: 35-58, Luke 22: 19).

Down through the ages the flesh of that miraculous fruit would feed apostles and martyrs, kings and saints, rich and poor, poets and psalmists, young and old, saints and sinners, you and me.

No longer would a fruit bring a curse. No longer would the thirst of sin go unquenched.

Blessed is the Fruit that revives the soul and restores true Life… the good fruit, the holy fruit… the succulent fleshy fruit of God’s own nature mingling with our own, its juice running down our chin, nourishing our bodies, transforming our lot with its precious wine.

©2012 Patricia W. Gohn

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Pat Gohn is a writer, speaker, and (my favorite) host of the “Among Women” podcast and blog. She holds a Masters in Theology, and a Bachelors in Communications. Her passion is working within Catholic adult faith formation and using media for evangelization and catechesis. Find out more at PatGohn.com.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “THE”

By Melanie Betanelli

“The” is a humble little word and that is what makes it so hard to write about. I am beset on all sides with temptations to pride. How can I make ‘the’ important? How can I make it shine and stand out? How can I make a wonderful, memorable point despite the seeming limitations of this so ordinary word?

At first I was going to write about how I am such a pedant. How my first reaction to the word ‘the’ was to retort that it isn’t even in the Latin version of the prayer. It’s just a piece of English grammar, it doesn’t have any real meaning. And yet I knew that path was one of intellectual pride: Hey, look at me, I studied Latin. Don’t I seem so important?

I saw that instead I needed to focus on ‘the’ as a call to humility. I recently read in a biography of St Anthony of Padua that “humility is the mother and root of all virtues”. Yes, humility is the soil in which all the virtues grow. “God resists the proud but shows Himself to and uses the Humble,” St Anthony proclaims.

And yet even with this resolution firmly in place, I keep experiencing mission creep. I want to write about the mystery of Mary’s perpetual virginity and her role as the Ark of the New Covenant. I want to ponder the mystery of the Incarnation. (Yes, in an earlier draft I somehow managed to drag poor little ‘the’ kicking and screaming into those waters which are really too deep for this humble word.) But that isn’t where this meditation is leading.

Instead I need to accept the very littleness of ‘the’. It is important, every word has a role to play or it wouldn’t be there, this in not a prayer with excess verbiage; but it is not a profound role. ‘The’ is a necessary bit of grammar; but it is a very humble, everyday sort of word. We use it without much thought or care. I mistype it a hundred times in a day ‘hte’ my fingers type, much to my great chagrin. And how often do I post a blog entry without even noticing that typo?

I’m working on accepting ‘the’ for what it is and not demanding that it be something more. I need to just let ‘the’ be itself.

Humility. Why is it so hard to accept smallness? Why is it so hard to be unnoticed, unimportant? Why do we want to stand out from the crowd? To follow Mary must be to follow her example of humility. She always points away from herself and toward someone else. She points toward her son.

So it is with “the”. Don’t notice me, it says. I’m not important here. Look at Him. He’s what really matters. Keep your eyes on Him. The blessed. The fruit. Jesus.

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Melanie Bettinelli is a wife and mother to four small children. She writes at that temptation to pride, her blog, The Wine Dark Sea.

image credit: MorgueFile

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A reflection on the word “IS”

By Christine Johnson

What a daunting task, to contemplate the word “is.”  How do you discuss the meaning of the verb “to be?”  Have you tried defining it for a child?  (Trust me, I’ve been homeschooling my girls for nearly nine years now, and defining this verb is no easy task.)

But here, in the middle of the Hail Mary, is this verb: is. To be. Conjugating the verb brings me up short, makes me stop in my tracks and realize something huge.

I am…

This is God. “I am Who I am.” The Great I Am. God, as Father Robert Barron puts it in his Catholicism series, has a nature of existence. His very nature is to be.

God has no beginning and no end. He is eternal. Alpha and Omega. These are things we hear and say, but to contemplate it is mind-numbing. I remember trying to understand this when I was a child. We were on a long trip from the Jersey Shore to Long Island to visit family, and I sat in the back seat of the car thinking about the eternal nature of God.

I gave myself my very first headache.

via Google Maps

But to contemplate it here in the Hail Mary gives us new things to think about.

First, the Eternal God, Creator of all things visible and invisible, became a Human Being. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Who has no beginning, had a beginning to His human life, and it was the moment the Archangel Gabriel approached the Blessed Virgin Mary and heard her fiat.

But this portion of the Hail Mary comes not from Gabriel. This part is from St. Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, who has been confined to home as she awaits the birth of her first child, who will become the Baptizer. Elizabeth greets Mary with joy, proclaiming, “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the Fruit of thy womb!” (Luke 1:41-45)

And here is what sticks out to me: Elizabeth’s verb tense.

Blessed is the Fruit of thy womb!

Elizabeth doesn’t say, “Blessed will be the Fruit of thy womb.” She doesn’t use past tense, either, saying, “Blessed has been the Fruit of thy womb.” She uses the present tense: blessed is.

Jesus, new in Mary’s womb and yet Ancient of Days, is blessed. Blessed be the Name of God! Blessed be His Holy Name! We should be in continual praise of God, blessing His Name at all times. Every breath we have – every thought, word, and deed of our lives – should be given over to praise of our Creator! Elizabeth does just this here. She blesses God, gives Him praise and thanksgiving.

From http://www.baby2see.com/development/week8.html

The second thing that is brought to my mind as I look at this verb is that Jesus is present at that moment. Again, he is newly formed. When Mary receives word of Elizabeth being pregnant, it is already her sixth month. Mary would be traveling around 115 miles to get there. That’s a day trip for us, but on an ass there and back, it’s hardly an easy journey. But even if it took a month, Mary would only be about 6 weeks pregnant by the time she arrived in Hebron. This is a time when no one would be able to tell that Mary was pregnant just by looking at her.  Jesus would be so tiny – less than an inch in length – that some people today would even question whether He was really a Baby yet.

Elizabeth uses the present tense verb to refer to Mary’s hidden Child. Jesus is present there – Emmanuel, God with us.

And this brings us to a final point: very often, we cannot see God with us. We look and find nothing. Our sorrows overwhelm us, and we fear drowning in our fears and anxieties.

But Jesus is with us. He might be hidden from obvious sight, as He was when Mary went to visit her cousin, but He is near. He is with us in a friend who calls just when you need someone to talk to. He is with us in the article you come across that speaks perfectly to your situation. He is with us in that tweet that makes you laugh in spite of your sadness. He is even with us in the smile of a stranger you pass in the store.

We only need to seek Him, and He will reveal Himself to us, often in very surprising ways.

IS

It’s such a small word, but like the whispering wind in 1Kings (1Kings 19:11-13) that contained God, it’s not to be overlooked. After all, it’s Who God says He Is.

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Christine Johnson blogs at Domestic Vocation and is active on Twitter as @catholicmomva. She’s one of those moms who I wish I was neighbors with so that we could have tea together in person. Because you know, she seems completely normal, despite the fact that she is so very amazing.