The Love of Christ Alive in Us

 Readings 041626 

Today’s readings
give us something simple,
and something strong:

When you know you are loved by Christ,
you can be brave.

The Apostles knew that.
They spoke the name of Jesus
even when it cost them.
They stood before leaders
who told them to be silent.
And still Peter said,
with a steady heart,
We must obey God, not men.

That courage
did not come from personality.
It came from love—
the love of Christ
alive in them.

And we know this life too.
We carry responsibilities.
We try to be faithful
in our homes,
our work,
our parish life.
And sometimes
we meet resistance,
or fatigue,
or quiet discouragement.

But the same truth
that held the Apostles
holds us now:

Jesus loves you.
Jesus is with you.
Jesus will help you.

In the Gospel,
Jesus tells us
that the love He shares with the Father
is poured into our lives—
freely,
constantly,
without hesitation.

That love becomes strength.
It becomes clarity.
It becomes courage
to choose truth,
to act with mercy,
to stand firm
even when the path feels uncertain.

So today,
let the love of Christ
be your courage.
Let it steady your voice.
Let it soften your heart.
Let it guide your steps.

Because His love
is not a feeling—
it is a light that does not fade,
a strength that does not fail.

Prayer

Lord Jesus

Stay close to my heart today.
Let Your love make me brave in all I do.
Fill my steps with Your light and Your peace.
Stand beside me when I feel small or afraid.
Guide my hands to kindness and my words to truth.
Hold me steady in every moment of this day.
Keep me safe in Your love that never ends. 

Amen.

When Light Arrives

 

Readings 041526

Suffering taught us something:
what happens when light is absent…
and what happens when light finally arrives.

In the past, my mother’s home‑health nurse
came from a company that had the contract,
not the one we requested and trusted.
The nurse did not show up.
There were excuses —
something came up… it was too late… tomorrow.
Instead of recovery,
my mother returned to  the hospital
worse than before.
Darkness can look like that —
quiet, neglectful, unseen.

So we changed companies.
We chose the one we had asked for all along.
And suddenly — light.
Her new nurse is gentle.
She smiles.
She listens.
She brings warmth into the room
simply by caring.

And it reminded me again:

Light enters quietly.
It does not force its way in.
It simply shines.
And when it shines,
it reveals what is true.

Jesus tells us the light came into the world,
but people preferred the darkness —
not because darkness is beautiful,
but because it hides
what we don’t want to face.

We know those corners of the heart.
We know the habits, the grudges,
the shadows we cling to.

Yet the light keeps coming.
Not to shame us.
Not to expose us.
But to heal.
To free.
To make us whole.

So today, the invitation is simple:
take one step toward the light.
Even a small one.
Even a trembling one.
Because every step toward Christ
is a step toward freedom.

Prayer
Jesus, 

Light who enters quietly,
shine into the places I hide.
Touch the wounds I fear to name.
Lift me from the shadows I choose too easily.
Let Your mercy warm what has grown cold.
Let Your truth free what has been bound.
Draw my trembling heart toward Your light. 

Amen.