33 Days to Eucharistic Glory With Me – Days 12 to 22

Eucharist, Eucharistic Consecration

This is a three-part post:
Part 1 – Days 1-11
Part 2 – Days 12-22
Part 3 – Days 23-33

DAY 12 – HEAD TO HEART

Ethos, pathos, and logos. Credibility, emotions, and reason. While these terms are rooted in rhetoric, they also reflect the ways people are persuaded. For me, it’s logos. God knows that and has been using it. It was through intellectual discourse and displays of intelligence that I was drawn more deeply into the Catholic Church in my late teens. Yet, knowledge is not the end goal; it’s merely the door that opens to the profound mysteries of faith, which I can only just begin to grasp.

The book reads that the longest journey is from the head to the heart. This truth reminds me of Fr. Mike Schmitz’s impactful talk at this year’s National Eucharistic Congress. It struck such a chord that I made a song about it and sang it to Andrew over and over during a car ride: “Only love can make a saint. Only love can make a saint. Only love can make a saint, not what we do know.”

We don’t become holy by merely knowing the Eucharist is the Real Presence of Christ; we become holy by abiding in the Eucharist with love.

Today’s reflection is inspired by St. Thomas Aquinas. I’m a Thomist to the core. So much so that I wanted to name our first son Thomas, only to be overruled by Matthew in a divine Zechariah moment (I am perfectly content with that). The life of St. Thomas is a testament to living a Eucharistic life. Here you have one of the most brilliant minds in history, transcending from intelligence to love, from head to heart.

I’m not there yet, but I’m on that journey.

DAY 13 – ALIVE & BEATING

My heart ached reading today’s reflection, especially the passage from St. Faustina’s diary where Jesus shares the pain He feels when we treat His presence with negligence:

“My great delight is to unite Myself with souls. When I come to a human heart in Holy Communion, My hands are full of all kinds of graces which I want to give to the soul. But souls do not even pay any attention to Me; they leave Me to Myself and busy themselves with other things. Oh, how sad I am that souls do not recognize Love! They treat Me as a dead object.”

Attending Mass as a family is a blessing, but it has its challenges. As a mother to a very active toddler, my focus now often shifts from preparing my soul for the holy celebration to managing Andrew’s energy. Moments before receiving the Eucharist are a whirlwind. I carry Andrew down the aisle, and Matthew stands beside me (something we started after attending the Worldwide Marriage Encounter). Matthew and I bow together, yet often out of sync. The Deacon or Father blesses Andrew first, and our babe always reacts with excitement, reaching out his little hand. This moment of joy momentarily distracts me, and before I know it, the Eucharist is placed in my mouth. We walk over to the side to receive the Blood. Matthew drinks first, I hand Andrew over to him so I can partake. We return to our pew, usually in the front row. I quickly mumble prayers before my attention shifts back to Andrew, who, like a politician, eagerly engages with everyone around us.

In these chaotic moments, I struggle to fully grasp the profound reality that I have just received Jesus Christ. I know it’s Him, but my heart often lags behind. I pray that through this Eucharistic Consecration, Jesus will help me rediscover the reverence and awe of receiving Him, even amid the busyness of caring for our son at Mass.

DAY 14 – GOD’S WILL

Earlier this year, I was receiving spiritual direction from a pious priest, Fr. Sam. I was perturbed by my search for God’s will. This tension often arises in me during significant life shifts.

I’ve always viewed God’s will as THE path, and the challenge – at least how I’ve understand it – has been to discern exactly what it is and follow it. I’m at a fork in the road, with one path representing God’s will and the other not, all while fearing the doom of the wrong choice. That’s why, whenever I’m discerning God’s will, I ask God to reveal “it” to me so I may choose correctly. This likely stems from my childhood, where I always strived to be a good student. My goal for every test was to achieve a perfect score, and I took pride in making few mistakes or acing it. I saw God’s will as a test, terrified of making the mistake of not choosing it.

With Fr. Sam’s guidance, I realized that to ask God to reveal His will loud and clear shouldn’t be the goal. As said in Thomas Merton’s Pilgrim’s Prayer (Day 2), God the merciful Father is pleased with our desire to follow His will. Instead of focusing on choosing the right path, my goal should be to deepen my relationship with Him through prayer and to align my desires with His.

It was a season of spiritual growth spurt.

Today’s reflection resonates deeply, as always. It discusses the spiritual sense. When we feel lost, confused, or helpless, we are losing our spiritual sense to the chaos of daily life and the noise of the world. The way to restore it is by saying “yes” to God every day. These little yeses prepare our hearts for when God asks for our big yes. Just look at our perfect model of faith and obedience…

Oh Mary, our dear Mother, please help me model my life after yours and conform my desires to your dear Son’s. Amen.

DAY 15 – WATCH YOURSELF

“Most people are bored and tired at Mass because they are bored and tired with their lives.”

This statement jolted me to a stop. I’d never considered how our presence at Mass mirrors our approach to life.

Rushing out of church right after Communion or the final blessing? We’re racing through life, prioritizing trivialities over what truly matters. Distracted thoughts during Mass? We’re distracted from life’s true purpose—holiness. Half-hearted participation, sitting at the back or on the sidelines? We’re merely surviving, not thriving. Preoccupied with others’ actions or appearances instead of the beauty of Jesus in the tabernacle? We’re glorifying the ungodly.

Our actions at Mass reflect our posture in life. How do we act at Mass? It’s worth pondering.

DAY 16 – HEALING OF THE SOUL

We often think of healing as a purely physical activity, but we are more than just our bodies. We possess intellect, will, and a soul that animates us. Without these, we would be like plants—living, but without reason, perception, instinct, or soul.

While physical and mental healing are important, if we truly believe in eternal life, then the soul must be our priority. The Eucharist heals. As Fr. Joseph mentions in Day 8 about the “rays of God’s glory in the monstrance being healing,” we need to turn to the Eucharist. But first, we must identify what ails us.

I created guide questions to help reflect on what needs healing in my soul. I then resolve to take these to the Eucharist and seek God’s healing. If you’re reading this, I encourage you to do the same exercise.

Guide Questions To Heal The Soul

  1. Like the blind, what do you want to see but cannot?
  2. Like the paralytics, what do you want to do but feel paralyzed to do?
  3. Like the deaf, what do you want to hear but cannot?
  4. Like the possessed, what do you spend too much time on that does not lead you to holiness? What takes up your energy but does not make you, as St. Irenaeus describes, “fully alive”? Where do you spend your money that does not enrich your soul? What holds you back from true glory and holiness, from becoming the best version of yourself in line with God’s will and design?
DAY 17 – SELF-OFFERING

Before diving into today’s reflection, I want to mention how inspiring the story of Siroki-Brijeg, the Bosnia-Herzegovina city with a 0% divorce rate, is. Families are strong where there is God. US could certainly learn a thing or two from their example.

Now, onto the reflection.

Recently, I watched a YouTube video about women’s health where the speaker mentioned that as soon as we wake up, we enter a liminal space where our brains are open to rewiring. She suggested that this is the best time to say affirmations. This idea sparked a thought: How can I use affirmations in a Christian way? Not for personal gain, vanity, or self-glory, but for my holiness?

I mulled this over throughout the day and arrived at a fitting approach. Instead of focusing on self-directed affirmations, I decided to shift the emphasis towards serving others. So, here’s what I plan to tell myself each morning, alongside the Morning Offering:

Morning Offering:
“O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer You my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of Your Sacred Heart.”

Focus:
“Lord, I live for You, Matthew, and Andrew. Show me how I can serve you all today.”

This focus aligns with my vocation. First, I am a beloved daughter of God. Second, I am a wife, and third, a mother. By reminding myself of my vocation every day, I can engage more fully and show up as a more complete person even in the other areas of my life.

DAY 18 – VERY VERY SWEET FRUITS

The fruits of the Eucharist are:

  • Friendship with Jesus
  • Desire to know and do the will of God
  • Cleansing of venial sin
  • Hunger for virtues
  • Grace to avoid sin in the future
  • A heart that listens to the Holy Spirit
  • Desire to know and love God

Today’s reflection ties closely to that of Day 16. If we cannot pinpoint where our ailments are, we won’t understand what we truly need. Imagine trying to fix a broken ankle with eczema ointment—it simply won’t work!

The good news is that God doesn’t need us to spell out our needs. There have been times in my life when I prayed for one thing and received something entirely different. In hindsight, I saw that what God provided was exactly what I needed. He knows us better than we know ourselves.

But this exercise gives clarity on our biggest weakness at any given moment. Clarity is crucial for self-awareness. It helps us recognize our tendencies and shortcomings, and identify our pitfalls in our journey to holiness. If we know where we need healing, we know exactly what graces to ask for and what fruit we should reach for each time we face the Blessed Sacrament in the monstrance or receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Communion. Only then can we open our hearts to His transformative grace.

I need all of these fruits in different measures. If only I could be a “glutton” and have them all at once! But for now, I’m focused on where my soul feels most choked by the particular struggle. I know what it is, and I know which fruit I’m seeking most urgently.

DAY 19 – MASS AS A FAMILY

On Sunday evening, Matthew and I discussed Fr. Matthew’s brief homily, and I admitted that I only took away one insight. The rest of the time, I was focused on keeping Andrew from crawling out of our seats. My husband agreed that concentrating during Mass is becoming increasingly challenging with our active toddler. “You have to keep one eye on him,” he said. He’s absolutely right.

Given our current reality, I don’t expect to fully immerse myself in God’s presence at Mass until our children are grown. But the challenge today is to approach Mass as if it were my first, last, and only time each time I attend. It’s an impossible standard to meet every single Mass, and this creates an inner tension—a pull between my desire for the peaceful, reverent experience I once had and the joy of attending as a family. I may have gone to daily Mass once since Andrew’s birth, and I’ve attended several without Matthew since we married, but something always felt incomplete.

Perhaps God is nudging me towards attending daily Mass alone from time to time, or maybe He’s asking me to find even 30 minutes of weekly Adoration. Perhaps embracing my vocation fully as a wife and mother is how I can participate in Mass as if it were my first, last, and only. I don’t need to have all the answers right now. God will reveal them in His time. What I do know is that several parishioners have told us that our little family in the front pew radiates love and inspires them. Even amid the imperfections and chaos of family life, I trust that God is using it to reveal His glory.

DAY 20 – SMILE

How are your priorities shifting as you journey through this thirty-three-day consecration? What’s more important to you than it was twenty days ago? What’s less important?

I reflected on this question today and was surprised not by a grand revelation but by a small yet meaningful change. On Day 20, I find myself smiling more—whether I’m out on family walks, at the grocery store, in the parking lot, or even as I pass people leaving the medical clinic.

It might seem insignificant: I’m smiling more.

But how does that relate to the Eucharist? Well, kindness hasn’t always been my strong suit. I tend to think deeply and often have a serious expression, which makes people assume I’m perpetually upset. But now, I’m discovering that the grace from receiving Jesus in the Eucharist is manifesting in the simplest of ways—through a smile. It’s in these modest acts that the brilliant radiance of the Eucharist shines through me.


Love Rearranges Priorities (bonus content)

I recently met with a few people, and during our conversation, I mentioned that in an ideal world, I’d be a stay-at-home mom. One of the men in the group quickly responded, “I don’t think so. I think you’d be bored.”

He knows that intellectual work keeps me satisfied, so I understand where he’s coming from. But I held my ground, saying that I still long for the freedom of time that comes with being a homemaker. Yet, in my cowardice, I veered off and became defensive, explaining how I have things scheduled for Andrew throughout the day, and that taking care of a child is far from boring. Inside, though, all I could think was, “You don’t know me.”

Now here I am, sitting on the grass under the shade of a large tree outside the library. I had taken Andrew to Toddler Time, but he kept pointing to the window, captivated by the sight of trees, grass, and dirt. I took it as a sign that he wanted to be outside. “Alright, son, let’s have a quick picnic,” I said.

He touches the grass, demolishing a lone dandelion, watching the small petals crumble in his tiny hand. He drinks his milk with vigor, quenching his thirst from the heat, and nibbles on pieces of granola and dried fruit that I hand him. Once satisfied, he wanders away, discovering the ice blocks from the lunchbox I’ve been carrying. I sit back and watch him, as I always do—captivated by his movements, his expressions, his endless curiosity. Before I know it, we’ve been there for nearly half an hour. The workers outside keep glancing over at the odd mom and toddler sitting on the grass in what no one would consider a picnic spot, especially in the blistering summer heat.

If this is boring, then I don’t know what isn’t.

Love rearranges priorities.

DAY 21 – ONE SMALL THING

This might be the answer to my question on Day 19 (Mass As A Family): Don’t let what you cannot do blind you to what you can.

In 2021, just one year after Matthew and I committed to paying off all our debt, we found ourselves on the verge of clearing the last couple of dollars of my student loans. We used the Debt Avalanche method, where we prioritized paying off the loan with the highest interest rate, which in our case was my student loan, averaging around 7%. On top of the minimum payments, we paid extra $300 each month which cut directly into the principal. In just about three years, we were free of non-home loans which summed up to nearly $100k.

I’m still amazed at what that modest $300 could accomplish. It has changed our psychology, reshaped our approach to money and budgeting, and even with increasing income, allowed us to avoid lifestyle creep. We are content buying the smallest house in our street and driving fully owned vehicles, one of them second-hand. Matthew and I openly discuss our finances, which has deepened our communication. We strategize as a team, travel without the metaphoric baggage, and give abundantly. That extra payment of $300 shifted our lives for the better.

This same principle applies to today’s reflection. God doesn’t expect me to be fully consumed by the Eucharist tomorrow or even on Day 33. He probably doesn’t expect me to partake in every Eucharist as if it’s my first, last, and only. Instead, He calls me to love Him in the small ways I can, trusting that in these little acts, other aspects of my days will fall into place. I don’t need to do anything grand—I just need to revel in and trust His Presence.

DAY 22 – APPETITE

My answer is prayer.

The question is: What are you hungry for right now? What is God saying through your hunger? How is He using that hunger to lead you to Him?

I’ll let you in on a secret—one that makes it no longer a secret. This year’s Lent was one of those “failed” ones. In fact, if I’m being really honest, I don’t think I’ve ever reached any Easter feeling like I’ve been truly transformed by Lent. This year, I set out with the goal of becoming a woman of prayer in 40 days. It was ambitious, maybe too much so. It wasn’t a “SMART” goal in any sense—neither specific nor measurable, and certainly not achievable in the way I envisioned.

But even in what feels like failure, something stirs within me. After Easter, I’m still left with this deep longing to deepen my prayer life. I think I now truly understand what St. Thomas Aquinas meant when he described prayer as an “appetitive power”—the soul’s yearning for God. If prayer is something that grows and shifts like hunger, then maybe I don’t need to be so hard on myself for not becoming that woman of prayer by Easter.

The fact that I’m still pursuing this, still feeling that pull toward prayer, even after the 40 days have passed, tells me something. My appetite for prayer is growing, slowly but surely. Through this Eucharistic Consecration and the daily reflections, I can sense a shift in how I approach prayer and what my heart longs for.

“To be human is to be hungry,” the book says. It’s true—we will never be fully satisfied by the world. But that’s what makes this journey exciting! It gives life purpose and direction. So, I’ll keep nurturing this hunger. From time to time, I might crave for sushi. Other times, just a plain oatmeal. Then someday, I’ll yearn for THE feast.

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