A woman in my parish has an adult son who has rejected his faith. She prays for him every day. She lights candles, says rosaries, and asks God again and again to bring him back. But nothing changes. Is God listening? Is He delaying? She told me once that she feels like the widow in Jesus’ strange parable — crying out for justice, but hearing only silence. And yet, she said, she is at peace. I asked why. She responded, “God is already answering. I just can’t see it yet.”

Dear Parish Family,

As both your pastor and a licensed professional counselor, I know how deeply mental health touches many lives. Mental illness is not a sign of weak faith. It is a human struggle that affects individuals and families across every walk of life. The Church reminds us that those who live with mental health challenges are never alone—they are beloved sons and daughters of God, deserving of compassion, dignity, and hope.

Dorothy Day, the great Catholic activist, doubted God’s existence. At least in her early adult years. But something changed when after giving birth to her daughter, she experienced an overwhelming gratitude. She later described how, as she held her daughter, the only appropriate response was a kind of unlimited gratitude. She had done nothing to deserve such a gift — this tiny, miraculous life — but there she was, flooded with gratitude, completely undone by the love of such a Giver.

A priest friend of mine received a call from a family whose elderly mother was dying. Within thirty minutes, he was at her bedside, offering the consolation of the sacraments, anointing her with the oil of the sick, and commending her soul to God. She passed not long after, and for months, her family spoke of their deep gratitude for his presence. When I phoned him to commend his faithful ministry, he simply said, “I was just doing my job.”

One day, my kids were playing outside in the snow, and I decided to take advantage of the quiet house to make a few important phone calls.

Fool. I forgot Murphy’s Law of Parenting, which dictates that as soon as you dial a phone number, a bomb of irritation and neediness explodes within the heart of your loudest child. Sure enough, as soon as the person on the other end of the line picked up, my son was at the back door, whimpering loudly. Horror of horrors, he had snow in his boot.

Dealing with money is unpleasant.

You might be good at dealing with money (I am not). You might even do it for a living (I do not). You might be careful to use as much of your money as you can for good purposes (I try to, but man, these skyrocketing grocery prices are killing me).

“Holiness isn’t for wimps,” Mother Angelica famously said. “And the Cross isn’t negotiable, sweetheart — it’s a requirement.”

I love Mother Angelica and I love this quote. Following God is tough, and to do it you have to make a decision to be tough, to endure tough things — and ultimately, to love the toughness of it all, because within that struggle God meets us with mercy and salvation.

One hot Arizona summer afternoon my car ran out of gas. I phoned the parish office and begged for help. My secretary came and helped me fill the gas tank. She chided me, “If you can’t manage getting your car from A to B, how can we expect you to guide the parish where it needs to go?” Point taken, Julie. I vowed to always make sure I have plenty of gas in my car.