Girlfriends

Image by Grace Urbanski from Pixabay There was a time in my life when I was deeply worried about someone I love. The future felt uncertain, and there was so little I could do to change the situation. I remember sitting in the car in the parking lot at the pharmacy, in between running errands, and praying-praying-praying the words of the Surrender Novena. During that time, I didn’t just pray the Surrender Novena for nine days. I made it a daily habit.

“How about right now?” The priest’s suggestion caught me off guard. It was early in the morning, and I had just arrived at a conference where I would be speaking. My mind was crowded with thoughts about my talk, things going on at home, and all the work and obligations waiting for me. When I saw the priest as I entered, however, I felt inspired to ask if he might hear my confession later that day.

One of my favorite things about these Gatherings is that I never quite know where the conversation will lead. This month, a simple question about our goals before summer ends led naturally into a heartfelt conversation about persevering through difficult seasons. We talked about those times when God feels quiet, praying for adult children, setting loving…

Image by Pexels from Pixabay Do you have a drawer full of beautiful stationery? Mine is filled with multiple packs of unopened notecards I have picked up in bookstores and gift shops through the years. I can never resist buying a pack of pretty notecards because of the potential they hold. The potential to connect in meaningful ways with other people, the potential to finally become a “Notecard Person.” You know the type. Someone who hears that a friend had a hard week and drops a note in the mail.

One of my favorite parts of Girlfriends has quickly become our monthly Girlfriends Gatherings. These relaxed online evenings are a chance to pull up a chair and spend an hour together talking about faith and everyday life. We laugh, ask questions, share what’s on our hearts, and encourage one another. Every gathering has reminded me how much wisdom God has placed in this community. Our next gathering is: Wednesday, July 29 7:30 PM Eastern Come with a question, or simply come to listen.

Between meals and coffee mugs and the never-ending loading and unloading of the dishwasher, I’ve stood in my kitchen, at window, thousands of times over the years. You’d think I’d seen everything there is to see. But this summer, we noticed something new. A little dark gray catbird has been visiting our front deck. She has a nest somewhere nearby, and every so often she’ll land on the railing and simply sit. Sometimes she stays for several minutes before darting away again.

Danielle Bean speaks at Catholic women’s conferences, parish retreats, diocesan events, mother-daughter gatherings, women’s ministry events, leadership days, Advent and Lent programs, and parish missions. Her talks are especially well-suited for Catholic women seeking encouragement, spiritual renewal, practical faith, and a deeper awareness of God’s presence in everyday life.

Image by Biea from Pixabay I could probably find a hundred banana bread recipes online in five minutes. Brown butter banana bread. Chocolate chip banana bread. Streusel-topped banana bread. Banana bread with Greek yogurt, sour cream, espresso powder, or browned bananas (is that even a thing?). But I don’t want any of those. I want my mother’s banana bread. She made it all through my childhood. The recipe came from an old cookbook where the pages were curled. There were mysterious stains.

I have spent a lot of my life trying to become better. A better wife, better mother, better friend, better Christian. A better pray-er, forgiver, listener, helper, responder-to-annoying-things-with-grace kind of person. You know the feeling? You might read a spiritual book, hear a homily, go on retreat, or have one quiet moment of clarity in prayer, and suddenly you see it: all the ways you are not yet holy.

One of my favorite things about summer is the way nobody’s in a hurry. Dinner is over. The dishes are waiting. The day is technically done. And yet somehow, sitting outside, we linger a little longer. The light hangs in the sky. Someone pulls up a chair. Conversations wander. The dog settles in the grass. Nobody seems to be in a hurry. I love that. The dishes can wait. The email can wait. Tomorrow’s to-do list can wait.