Monday Morning Catholic

Quotes

“Behold, I offered My whole self to the Father for thee, and have given My whole Body and Blood for thy food, that I might be all thine, and thou mightiest be always mine.”  

• Imitation of Christ, Book IV, Chapter 8

• When I read this, I had to go over it several times. The repetitive, rhythmic language gave me a deep sense of peace and closeness to Jesus. It reminded me of the words the priest says during the offertory at Mass. I’ve always been struck by how, in a single prayer, we receive the gift of Jesus—and then immediately offer it back to Him. He gives us this gift so we can return it. To remain with Him. To join with Him. To be united with Him—and with one another.

“Let us go to the Son of Joseph, and He will console us.” St. Louis De Montfront

Scripture passages:

Luke 1:39-56

John 12:46

Proverbs 4:13

Prayer:

The Litany of Humility

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed,

Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved...

From the desire of being extolled ...

From the desire of being honored ...

From the desire of being praised ...

From the desire of being preferred to others...

From the desire of being consulted ...

From the desire of being approved ...

From the fear of being humiliated ...

From the fear of being despised...

From the fear of suffering rebukes ...

From the fear of being calumniated ...

From the fear of being forgotten ...

From the fear of being ridiculed ...

From the fear of being wronged ...

From the fear of being suspected ...

That others may be loved more than I,

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I ...

That, in the opinion of the world,

others may increase and I may decrease ...

That others may be chosen and I set aside ...

That others may be praised and I unnoticed ...

That others may be preferred to me in everything...

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should…

Songs

Sweet Sacrament Divine - this was playing at the Mass when we made our Consecration to Mary, the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary.  I had never sang it, but it really matched the whole day and what we were doing.  I was very glad to be celebrating Mass at the Holy Spirit Center. We got to start our day together in Mass, in a shrine, just like we began this journey. 

Honest by Leanna Crawford –This song always comes at a time when I need comfort and humility 

Lizz’s Reflections From the Week

One of the tough news to receive is that a student will not be returning unexpectedly. This news brings a sense of loss and mourning to my heart. At the same time, it opened the door to unexpected possibilities—perhaps the arrival of new students later in the year.

Today, as I was frantically cleaning my workroom in the basement—trying to wrap my head around everything I still needed to do, and everything I now had to redo, including removing my students’ names from lists and spaces in the classroom—I came across a prayer I had copied down from one of my readings earlier this year.

What a gift God gave me at that moment.

“No, Lord,

I will not give up all as lost when Thou seemest to withdraw Thyself from me; but, on the contrary, I will believe all gained when my soul, though sinking under fatigue, and withered with bitterness shall resign itself to Thy holy will, and live only in Thee, saying with the Prophet, I commit to THee all my strength, for my soul is in Thy hands, and Thy mercy supports and encourages my miseries. 

Abandon me not, O god, to the disorder of my passions, let be Thou their master by Thy grace, and keep me always in the possession of Thy Love.  Amen”

It might seem dramatic, but I truly put my whole heart into educating my students. In Montessori we expect to follow a student for 3 years. We often develop a close relationship. I'm not only disappointed that we won't get one more year together, but also sad that I won’t have the chance to watch them continue to grow at our school.

I have to trust that God has a plan for these children, and I will continue to pray for them as I do all my students. I’ve yet to forget any student. I carry with me so many memories of their smiles, their struggles, their “ah-ha” moments when they’ve worked hard to understand something and then run to share that spark of joy with me. Being the person they want to tell things to, knowing we are united in a love of learning—that’s a gift I will always hold dear.

I know I won’t forget them, and I trust that whoever God brings into my classroom next is meant to be there. But, even so, a gloomy shroud still lingers over my days as I prepare for the year ahead.

Finding this prayer, though, brought me great comfort. God never leaves me in my sadness. There is always consolation.

Mary’s Refelections

Luke 12:49-53

“I’ve come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!”

Purification and Transformation

The homily I heard this weekend focused on the theme of purification, and how fire, in Jesus' time, symbolized that very process—cleansing, refining, preparing for what’s next.

It’s August now. Summer is fading.

 As a teacher, this shift marks the end of my days of freedom and wandering, and the return to structure, discipline, and instruction.

While working on my goals and vision for the new school year, I found myself reflecting on this concept of purification—a shedding of the old, and the beginning of transformation into the new.

Endings are difficult.
Beginnings are difficult.
We often find comfort in the middle.

My grandfather once told me he felt a deep sense of peace while painting religious icons. He disliked finishing them, because the process of creating had become a prayer in itself. Yet, once completed, he gave them away freely and began another. A new icon meant a new prayer to be prayed, a new peace to be found, a new person to receive it.

That story has always stayed with me. The real struggle is not just in starting or ending—but in knowing when it's time to let go of what is, and embrace what needs to be.

The middle feels safe.
It’s what we know. It’s where we settle.
But comfort is not the same as growth.

When we dare to challenge ourselves—when we push past our comfort zones in the pursuit of self-improvement—life tends to throw obstacles in our way. We hit resistance. We retreat to the familiar. The middle feels easier. Familiar. Safe.

But is familiar always best?

Familiar can hold healing, yes—but it can also hold pain.
It can carry both joy and sorrow.

Growth doesn’t come from the middle. Growth requires fire. It demands transformation.

When we linger in the middle too long, we can become complacent—or worse, stagnant. Sometimes we even forget who we are. Until one day, we feel that persistent nudge—that quiet, relentless whisper:
You’re meant for more.

Each year, as May or June rolls around, teachers experience endings. Sometimes we get the chance to say goodbye. Sometimes we don’t. Either way, when August arrives, we are called to begin again.

We must purify.
We must transform.

We must take what we’ve learned and make it better.

We welcome new students—each a child of God—into our classrooms. We adjust, we grow, we lead. We keep in mind our vision, our purpose, and our calling.

And we strive to set the world on fire—with truth, with love, with courage.

Because in every moment of preparation, panic, and uncertainty, we are creating something new.
And eventually, the new will become the middle again.

Until it’s time to transform once more.