Friendship is not extra. It is not optional for the Christian. It is particularly crucial to the Christian woman. Perhaps you’re already nodding. Perhaps you’re even thinking of the faces of the women who form your Walking with Purpose community, remembering how those women acted as “an elixir of life” to you (Sirach 6:16).

But what if you’re not at this point? What if you…well, don’t really have any “bosom friends”? What if you’ve expended all your relational energy with your children or at work? You feel the press of immediate needs and don’t think it would be responsible to step away. Isn’t it more likely that having friends is something you do with leftover time?

At the Last Supper with the disciples, Jesus stresses to them what was most important to Him: communion. Jesus immerses His disciples in the reality that communion with the Father and one another is the meaning of life. In John’s Gospel, Jesus expresses His unity with us as the true Vine, in whose love we are to remain. Jesus says, “I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father” (John 15:15). Jesus, who is the Word of the Father, has told us—shared with us—all. He wants us not to remain on the outside of things but to know the logic of love from within, through participating in it. 

The Lord has designed you and destined you for intimate participation in love. This participation is called “communion,” and the entire Christian life has communion as its aim. You have come from a communion of love—the Trinity—and you are destined for communion—the communion of saints, the communion of the Trinity. You are not the best version of you, you are literally not yourself, alone. To be you, to be a person, is to be in communion.[1] This is why friendship is not extra but essential.

For a while, I forgot this, and I forgot who I was in a basic way. I was fully immersed in survival—moving four times in 5 years, having twins, homeschooling older children—I had no bandwidth to be concerned with anyone outside my immediate family. The intensity of my insularity was ugly but nearly invisible to me. During this time, my eldest daughter signed up for a musical theater production of The Wizard of Oz. This commitment necessitated that I volunteer for 12 hours. As I walked into the wings, I thoroughly resented the coerced volunteering, certain I was more put-out than any other mom because I had to bring three other children with me—who sat under tables in Hair and Makeup. Thirty minutes later, I was not the same woman who had started applying makeup. I was electrified. Coming home from productions at 10 p.m., I couldn’t sleep until I’d told my husband about every meaningful conversation I had with each mom, munchkin, and monkey. There was a lot to tell! On the third night of the show, I was nearly shouting at my husband: “I’m an extrovert! I can’t believe I forgot I was an extrovert!” And let me tell you, the man behind the curtain in this moment was the Lord.

He lifted the curtain of my heart revealing to me that “[Wo]man cannot live without love. [S]he remains a being that is incomprehensible for [her]self, [her] life is senseless, if love is not revealed to [her], if [s]he does not encounter love, if [s]he does not experience it and make it [her] own, if [s]he does not participate intimately in it.”[2] Woman is the one who is especially characterized by making room for another in her intimate spaces—her body, home, mind, family, and social groups. Our feminine genius disposes us to recognize and affirm the humanity, the goodness of the other. This is why the world needs women in order to be properly humanized. 

Of course, a woman can live this “genius” for people without being gregarious, but sometimes a hyperbole, like myself, makes a good illustration. One of the next things I did after rediscovering that I loved people, especially women, was to form a Well-Read Mom book club. At our first meeting, we could barely summon the courage to repeat the novel’s basic plot-points—and I was relieved when the ladies went home. Ouch. But, by our last meeting, we were disagreeing with each other over different interpretations and laughing about it. It was as if we had awakened—after being asleep—to our deepest questions. And if literature and fiction helped us awaken to our questions and desires, is it surprising that nearly the same exact women who’d formed the book club formed our first WWP Bible study group?

In making friends as a grownup, I learned that friendship expresses principles of Christ’s own affection for me. Friendship is a form of communion, where we meet Christ's own love for us. This is why friendship is not extra for the Christian. 

• Friendship reminds me that I am not alone, but that love is at the core of my identity.
• Friendship is a mirror. Friendship reminds me of who I am. My friends refuse to see me as the sum of my weaknesses and failures. They literally tell me, “I see that you are more than that.” 
• Friendship reminds me that I am acceptable, that I am lovable. Acceptance liberates me to face the truth about myself, the full truth about who God has made me to be.
• Friendship reminds us that love is gratuitous and surprising. God gives us to one another and He knows what will bless us. Some friends you wouldn’t have picked for yourself are given to you as gifts. 

In the next few days, ask the Lord to show you why friendship matters so much to Him. Then, step forward in faith. Perhaps you can simply start by adding a friend-event to your calendar. Perhaps you could shift your energy from social media friendships to one or two actual, embodied friendships. Perhaps you could revisit Jodi Dauses’ encouragement to take the first step in repairing a faltering friendship. Dare to believe that Jesus desires the joy of friendship for you, that His “joy may be in you and your joy may be perfect” (John 15:11).

[1] Pope John Paul II, “General Audience November 14, 1979,” Vatican.va, https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/audiences/1979/documents/hf_jp-ii_aud_19791114.html. (See also, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, “Concerning the Notion of Person in Theology,” Communio, https://www.communio-icr.com/articles/view/concerning-the-notion-of-person-in-theology.)
[2] Pope John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, section 10, March 4, 1979, Vatican.va, https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_04031979_redemptor-hominis.html.

About the author:
Charity Hill lives in the Austin area with her husband and four children, but she really dwells with them at the intersections of theology, literature, and laundry. Charity produces her children’s literature podcast Bright Wings: Children’s Books to Make the Heart Soar. At Bright Wings, Charity ponders what makes a book worth reading and wonders how children’s literature can help save the world.

When I was 22 years old, my 23-year-old friend invited me to attend a women’s small group Bible study. Walking into the room that first night, I quickly realized that my friend and I were the youngest—by well over twenty years. Every other woman sitting at that table landed somewhere between the ages of 45 and 75. 

My hesitation played out in my head. I don’t know these women. I wasn’t expecting them to be so much older than me. Will they think I’m stupid? What if we have nothing to talk about? 

As we met week after week, my initial hesitation transformed into delight. These women, having so many more years under their belts than I had, were a gift. 

Sitting at their feet, I got to hear about the struggles and joys of their marriages and process the choices of their adult children. I listened to the stories of their joys and their tragedies, their good choices and the ones they wished they could change. I saw how Scripture hit their hearts differently at different stages of life. And they did not think that I was stupid. I was also a gift to them, offering them the fresh perspective and energy that accompanied me in my youth.The experience was incredible―nothing less than transformative. 

It is natural to stick with women our own age. Why? Because we are going through the same things. When we sit with women who are in our current state of life, we can process our day to day struggles with women going through it too. When we sit in a group of women from our generation, we laugh at the same jokes, reminisce about the same cultural references, and make connections over similar joys and struggles. This is a very good thing, and we should lean on women who resemble us in age and state of life. However, if we only invest in relationships with women who are in our same generation, we are greatly missing out. 

In the book of Judges, Joshua, a great Israelite, dies. Because Joshua was faithful to God, he was chosen to be the successor to Moses and lead the Israelites into the promised land. Over the course of his life, he honored God, leading the Israelites with courage and virtue. Judges 2:7–8 says, “And the people served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the elders who outlived Joshua, who had seen all the great work which the Lord had done for Israel. And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died at the age of one hundred and ten years.”

So what happened in the wake of Joshua’s death? 

Judges 2:10 reveals that “there arose another generation after them, who did not know the Lord or the work which he had done for Israel.”

This is why fellowship across generations is so important. Joshua was part of an incredible generation. His generation was alive during the Israelites’ wanderings in the desert. They witnessed the incredible, unspeakable miracles of God. They had experienced the benefits of obeying God and the dysfunction that followed their disobedience. They were also the generation that took hold of the promised land. Each of them had an incredible story to tell of God’s goodness. Yet, for some reason, there was a disconnect. Those stories did not get passed down. The young and the old did not sit together. As a result, an entire generation of people rose up not knowing God or how He works. 

As I survey our current cultural climate, I submit to you that we are in a similar situation. We no longer spend significant time with each other across generations, and we are suffering because of it. And so while I encourage you to enjoy relating to women your own age, I challenge you to form relationships with women who are from a different generation than you, older or younger. 

You may be reading this knowing that there is more life behind you than there is ahead of you. I have spoken to women like you who look at the young women at their parish and express how they feel like they have nothing to offer. This could not be further from the truth. Friend, your story is important and needs to be told. You have a wisdom that only comes with age. Young women need to know that their state of life will not last forever, and may not be the hardest. They need to hear about your sufferings and regrets, as well as your joys and your hopes for the future. Please do not discount yourself. Your story may be the light that guides a younger woman into peace and telling it to a younger ear may bring a new kind of healing to you as well. 

You may be reading this knowing that there is more life ahead of you than behind you. Sit and listen to older women. Become their friend and hear their story but recognize that you have something invaluable to offer to them. You have a fresh spirit to offer. If you are willing to sit with someone who is older and share your life with them, you may very well soften a heart that has been hardened by unkind years. In you, older women see hope. They see that life might not be as bad as it looks on the news. Your energy is contagious, and your stories may bring up fond memories for them. When you reach out to a woman who is older, you may be the one who brings her out of loneliness and into communion. Do not discount what you can offer to someone who is ahead of you in life. Step out and be the one who reminds her that her story still matters.

Scripture repeatedly speaks to both young and old. Psalm 71:18 says, “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come.” 1 Timothy 4:12 tells us, “Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.” Each of us has something to offer another generation. Let us not keep it to ourselves. Rather, let us step out across generations, so we may be encouraged into our old age and each generation rises up knowing the glory of God.

We are in full transition mode in my home. Gone are the days of relaxed schedules, chlorine-smelling hair, hands stained with sidewalk chalk, and flip flops all over my entryway. Our dining room table is full of uniform kilts and pants that need to be hemmed, piles of school supplies, and rolls and rolls of contact paper just waiting to be opened.

With this transition in our home, a burst of excited energy enters my heart. The start of the school year brings with it the fall launch of the Walking with Purpose program at my parish. I have missed this community.  

I have missed the warm and welcoming smiles. I have missed walking into a room and feeling confident that the women meeting me there are rooted in the love of Christ. There have been many lessons learned in these past 18 months of lockdown procedures, virtual school, remote work, and live-streamed Mass. But one is ever present in my heart as summer comes to a close: nothing can replace the joy found in a fellowship of women that come together from all seasons of life and faith journeys to bear witness to the Word of God. 

What I think I have missed the most is the order and organization my spiritual life takes on when I am around these women. How we desperately need the fellowship of like-minded women running the race of life together!

We find ourselves in a world that is broken and fallen, and it is all too easy to be consumed by the world’s empty promises. This world easily invites us to forget about ordering our life toward Christ, and instead pushes us down an alluring rabbit hole of individualism, self-absorption, and pleasure. Do what you want to do, it whispers, when you want to do it, and how you want to do it. And no matter what it’s okay, because it’s your truth. Our world has forgotten that there is one truth, there is one authority. We have forgotten what our Catechism beautifully reminds us, “The worship of the one God sets man free from turning in on himself, from the slavery of sin and idolatry of the world.”[1]

When we get caught in the rabbit hole of worldliness, we need our community to reach out to us and lead us back to relationship and unity with our Lord. Scott Hahn masterfully tells us in his book, It is Right and Just, that “it is in recognizing and living out the truth of the uniqueness of our relationship with God that we bring ourselves into right order with Him and all of creation.”[2]

Right order. This is what WWP does for me and for thousands of women across this country. This community of women believers—standing together, praying together, and yes, breaking bread together (in the form of casseroles, cookies, and other sweet and savory treats)—helps me to rightly order everything. My WWP community reminds me of our early Church forefathers and mothers. They too found themselves in a world saturated with false idols, corruption, fear, anxiety, and persecution. They knew just how vital and necessary building a community was to combat the pressures of the world around them. They ran their race together. 

They lived together, ordering their daily lives around prayer, worship, and caring for each other. They lived counter to the culture they were immersed in and bore witness to the belief in a purpose higher than themselves—to give glory to God. “Now the company of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in common” (Acts 4:32). They lived for the good of the community, not seeking individual pleasure. “Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to the breaking of bread in their homes” (Acts 2:46). Did you catch the order of what they did? Worship first. They worshiped together, praising God, grateful for His presence among them. The order was God first, community second. 

“There was not a needy person among them because each person shared their possessions for the good of the community” (Acts 4:34). They lived by the two greatest commandments spoken by Jesus: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’” (Matthew 22:37-39). The commitment to the authority of Jesus Christ and confidence in His Word and promises led them to live life differently. 

Each Christian made the choice to order their lives around the Lord. And the joy that followed this choice and “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Phillipians 4:7) was seen in their faces and appealed to those around them. Thus, the early Church exploded and spread rapidly amidst a pagan and morally destructive culture. How we need a similar explosion of truth today! 

Where can we light the match of truth? How can we fan the flame of faith and hope? 

Through community, sisters.

The noise of the world is LOUD. And the sway of worldliness is so strong. But we have something stronger. We have the might of the heavens in our corner. Communities of faith, like Walking with Purpose, encourage us to “throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light” (Romans 13:12). 

Communities of faith offer us what the world cannot—hope. Hope that it is not all up to us. Hope that we are not alone in our suffering. Hope that we are seen and loved just as we are. A drop of hope goes a long way to soften a heart that has been hardened by the brokenness of the world. Softened hearts allow space for movements of grace. And grace changes everything. Grace—this free and undeserved gift from God—helps us to live a life rightly ordered to Christ. 

Sisters, it is time to remember that we too are counted in the commissioning of Christ, to “go out and make disciples of all the nations” (Matthew 18:19). It is time to act with the gift of grace and, through the choices we make (big and small), model the love of Jesus Christ to others.

[1] Catholic Church, “Life In Christ,” Catechism of the Catholic Church (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1995), 2097.
[2] Hahn, S. & McGinley, B. (2020) It is Right and Just: Why the Future of Civilization Depends on True Religion. Emmaus Road Publishing.

I was at the playground with my seven-year old son the other day, watching him play and (thank goodness) burn off some energy so I could read a few chapters of a book. Suddenly, he came running up to me grinning ear to ear. “Mommy,” he said, “I made a new friend! His name is Evan and he likes Minecraft just like I do!” He scampered off to go swing and talk about all the “Minecrafty” things with his new friend. It made me smile because this is so like him. He’s the kid who will make a new friend no matter where we go. He is vulnerable, honest, and genuinely wants to get to know the other person. It’s a joy to watch. 

As I sat on the bench, eager to go back to my book, a thought crossed my mind. Kids have no preconceived notions when they interact with other kids. They have a simplicity and a sincerity in the way they approach new situations and people—something that many of us, myself included, have lost.

We tend to spend time with people who validate our beliefs. And it seems that the longer we are committed Christians, the fewer non-Christian friends we have. Enjoying a solid faith community of friends is essential, but what is the consequence of this in terms of the need for us to share our faith with others? Faith is “caught” more than “taught,” and that requires starting with the strong foundation of a relationship.

Jesus has chosen to depend on Christians to carry forth His mission of salvation, to be the “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.”[1] “Through baptism and the Eucharist, he gives us his own divine life; through the teaching of the Church he fills us with his truth; and he is counting on us not to hoard these treasures, nor let them go to waste.”[2] We simply cannot do this if we remain comfortable in our Christian bubbles. It requires a degree of vulnerability and trust in the Lord as we seek to reach out to those around us and share the treasure we have received. 

Sisters, this may require a certain level of discomfort. In order to reach others for Christ, we have to earn the right to be heard, and that often takes time through building relationships, listening well, and being authentic. Being uncomfortable for the sake of another is something that every Christian encounters sooner or later in their faith journey. As Dorothy Day once said: “An act of love, a voluntary taking on oneself of some of the pain of the world, increases the courage and love and hope of all.” 

This doesn’t (necessarily) mean you need to walk up to a stranger at a playground and ask them about Jesus (kudos to you if you have ever done this—I haven’t!). But you can step out of your bubble in your daily life as a parent, grandparent, student, professional, volunteer, or neighbor. 

I encourage you to ask yourself these questions as you consider how Jesus has called you to be salt and light to the world: 

• How much time do I spend with non-Christians?
• How many friends do I have that do not share my faith?
• Would others say I am a good listener?
• Am I the same person with my Christian friends as with my non-Christian friends? 
• Have I ever felt prompted by the Holy Spirit to speak to someone I wouldn’t normally talk to?
• Do I pray for non-Christians by name?
• Would a complete stranger be able to tell I am a Christian after observing me for a few minutes?
• Am I confident enough in my faith to always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in me?[3] 

If the Holy Spirit tugs at your heart after reading one of these, take it to prayer. Ask Jesus how He wants you to bring others to Him. And remember that He will “fully supply whatever you need, in accord with his glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

[1] Matthew 5:13, 14
[2] John Bartunek, The Better Part (Circle Press, 2007), 92-93.
[3] 1 Peter 3:15

Are you feeling depleted—like you’re running on fumes and you still have a hill to climb? Wouldn’t it be great if there was a way to be infused with exactly what you need for the week ahead? These questions remind me of a recent visit to my son in Los Angeles. We were strolling through the streets of Santa Monica and happened upon a shop where they were giving people drip IVs for fatigue, hangovers, migraines, and colds. The sign in the window promised that these super-doses of vitamins and minerals would get right into your bloodstream for immediate impact. Walk-ins were welcome, and if you bought four shots, you got one free. I’m not endorsing this therapy, nor did I try it, but I must admit, I found the concept intriguing. It sounded like instant relief.

But even if there was something I could safely and instantly take that would boost my energy, it still wouldn’t get to the root of what I desire most. What I really long for is connection—connection to God and to other people. Isolation, we have all discovered, does not make us feel better long term. It’s one thing to have a few hours of solitude with a good book and a great cup of coffee. It’s quite another to feel like you are doing life alone and there’s no one to give you a hand when the road gets rough. I want deep, authentic friendship with people who are running their race with their eyes on Christ. I agree with Ecclesiastes 4:9–10, “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up.”

Another thing that I long for is to see some improvement in areas of my life where I struggle with habits I hate. St. Paul writes about this in Romans 7:15: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Can you relate? 

Do you want to quit eating so much sugar but you crave the pleasure it promises?
Do you want to drink less but find that you keep faltering in your resolve because you think you need it to relax/have fun/loosen up?
Do you long to be more hope-filled and positive but find that your words and attitudes are as negative as a newsfeed?
Do you want to follow Christ and obey Him but find yourself in the familiar rut of the same old sins, over and over again?

Maybe you, like me, have made yourself all sorts of promises, have set goals time and time again, only to find that old patterns of behavior die hard. Something I know beyond a doubt, one of the reasons I fail is because I try to do things on my own. I want an injection of everything I need so I don’t have to rely on anyone. Self-sufficiency sounds strong and appealing. But God asks me to lean on Him and others. He invites me on a journey where I’ll need to reach out for help instead of turning to self-reliance. 

Do you want to grow spiritually but you feel stuck?
Are you longing for friendship, acceptance, meaning, and a weekly shot in the arm?
Are you tired of running your race alone?
Do you want strength to get through your next week?
How about reassurance that you aren’t crazy for the way you look at the world from a Christian perspective?

If you are longing for these things, I wonder how you are attempting to satisfy those desires. One thing I know for sure, there is nothing like a regular gathering of a small group of like-minded women to make all the difference in the world. 

I’m not talking about a group known for its uniformity, rather its unity. I’m not talking about a group of women who are holier than you. I’m describing a group of friends who are on a spiritual journey together, women who have taken off their masks and are honest about the difficulties of life. It’s a judgment free zone—a safe place to share a part of your soul with women who understand. It’s relaxing to be able to talk about your faith and who you really are. 

If you are not connected to a Walking with Purpose small group, I want you to prayerfully consider why not. It could very well be that THIS is exactly what you need—this is what would be the game-changer for you. Better than an IV drip full of vitamins. Better than a workout class. Better than a boozy mom’s group. There is support out there. You don’t need to figure your life out on your own. We are here to help you connect to God and sisters in Christ so that you are infused with true, lasting wellness.

Click here to see if there’s a WWP group near you. 

No group near you? Could it be that God is tapping on your shoulder, asking you to be the connector, the instigator, the one to gather just a few women who are longing for the same thing as you? Click here to see how we can help.

With you on the journey,
Lisa

I will be honest, the last couple of weeks have been hard. And would you believe it has nothing to do with Covid, pandemic restrictions, or even vaccinations? This was a different kind of hard. This hard was fueled by swirling negative self-talk and comparisons with other women in which I always ended up short. Old wounds were uncovered in my heart, and with those old wounds came powerful feelings of not being good enough, of feeling less than, of feeling ugly. I was emotionally leveled. 

And all of this happened to bubble up to the surface during a week in which I was planning the ending celebration of my women’s group’s 33-day Consecration to St. Joseph, my youngest was preparing to graduate from kindergarten, my husband was working longer hours on a big project, and my older children were in need of me to help them study for their finals, not to mention being the point person for all of the drop-offs and pick-ups for the various activities that they were now back to. My daily responsibilities were not going to stop just because my emotions and old wounds were getting the better of me. 

I’m not proud to admit that my go-to response has always been to push through the day, do what was needed of me and/or what was required of me and then crawl into bed, pull the covers up, let those negative thoughts wash over me, and succumb to them. I tend to isolate, withdraw, and not allow anyone into my hurt...including God. My seven years of Bible study through Walking with Purpose has strengthened my relationship with Christ, and I know that the enemy is cunning, “prowling around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). At that point, however, I was not strong enough to resist the attack. My rational brain was throwing red flags up everywhere, telling me that this was exactly what the enemy—the “father of lies'' (John 8:44)—does, this is his game plan, this is where he wants me—isolated, alone, despairing, and questioning my worth. My defenses were weak this time around. I stayed right where I was and I believed every lie. This ultimately led to heightened anxiety and rising levels of anger and frustration. My behavior toward those I love most (hint: my husband and children), therefore, was less than stellar, and not my finest moment.

But what the enemy did not count on this time around was that in these past seven  years of WWP, the Lord had been intentionally placing women in my life who He knew I needed alongside me on my journey. Don’t you just love God?? The Lord had been cultivating these authentic friendships in my life in order to grow the fruits of healing and unconditional love. It was these fierce women who picked me up when I was too weak to fight this battle alone, who picked up their own shields of faith to place in front of me and defend me from the arrows of the enemy. These women called me out of the darkness of isolation and into the light of community in Christ. 

This journey that we are on, sisters, we were never meant to be on alone. From the beginning, the Lord meant for us to be in relationship. We were each made in the image and likeness of God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit. As the three persons of the Holy Trinity are in communion with each other, so too are we called to be. Mary DeTurris Poust writes in her book, Walking Together, “We see in the three personas of the Trinity an openness. The Father, Son and Spirit are generous with one another and in constant connection...the three personas are distinct and separate from each other, never in danger of overtaking one another or suppressing one another. There is a harmony there [emphasis added].”[1]  When our friendships are rooted in God, there is a true desire for the other to flourish. There is no judgment or comparison between each other. There is building up, not tearing down. 

We can see examples of holy friendships throughout Scripture. In the Old Testament, Ruth displays fierce loyalty and faithfulness as she refuses to leave Naomi, and instead accompanies her to Naomi’s family’s home—a place where the culture, language, and traditions were unknown to Ruth. “For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God,” Ruth tells Naomi (Ruth 1:16). And Naomi reciprocates these feelings as she urges Ruth toward a marriage with a kind and loving man, telling her, “My daughter, I need to seek some security for you, so that it may be well with you” (Ruth 3:1). These women desired true happiness for one another. 

The greatest examples we have of holy friendships are those between Jesus and His chosen disciples. He called each one to follow Him, seeing special gifts unique to each person. Knowing these men and women would be called for a greater mission after His death, He helped them along their paths toward holiness. He inspired virtue and called out lies and prejudices. He declared truth into their hearts and modeled trust, compassion, and forgiveness. Jesus knew that His disciples would need each other. He sent them out during His ministry two by two (Luke 10:1). And just as He reminds them “where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20), so too does He remind us that when we ground our friendships in Him, He will be there too. 

Are you seeking harmony in your relationships? Are the friendships you have right now ones that keep you on the path of virtue and in the pursuit of holiness? Sister, are you spending time with others who edify you, who call out your gifts, and encourage you to be a better version of yourself? If not, spend time in prayer, asking for the Lord to lead you to these women. And if you are lucky enough to have these women already in your life, say a prayer of thanksgiving, and then invite these blessed friends back to community and fellowship with you. 

[1] DeTurris Poust, Mary. (2010). Walking Together: Discovering the Catholic Tradition of Spiritual Friendship. Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, pp. 21-22.

One of the many side effects of being trapped at home during a pandemic—according to the woman who sold us our new dining room set and chandelier—is refurnishing your home. “People are bored and have nothing else to do but stare at their living space,” the saleswoman told us. “Figured they might as well make it beautiful.” Anyone else wallpaper a bedroom, buy a new area rug, or rearrange the furniture to keep the boredom at bay? Or did you buy a dog? 

We considered the third dog but opted for a full kitchen remodel and a new dining room set instead. Not because we were bored, but because I wanted to create a beautiful space that fit all of my family and friends. I desired to make my home a place of warm invitation, where there is always an empty chair at the table and charcuterie board within arms reach. When the days grew lonely and hope ran low, it was this vision—this dream of connection and conversation permeating my home and rising like incense—that kept me from spiraling into despair. 

That and potato peel pie.
I’ll explain.

During quarantine, I fell madly in love with the novel turned film, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Set in 1941 on the island of Guernsey during German occupation, the islanders were no longer allowed to have meat. However, a local woman managed to hide a pig from the German soldiers and invited her neighbors into her home to share in a pig roast. Carefully slipping handwritten invitations beneath wooden doors, this strange but irresistible group came together, nourishing more than just their physical bodies. One guest made an offering of his famous potato peel pie, which was exactly what it sounds like. A simple pie made of nothing but potatoes and their peels. 

Later that evening when caught out after curfew, the witty, loving, and quick-thinking character, Elizabeth McKenna, claimed that they were a book club who had been so engrossed that they lost track of time. A club they ridiculously named on the spot: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. What began as a cover for residents breaking curfew during the German occupation turned into a weekly Friday night refuge. And what began for me as just another Saturday night Netflix movie turned into a stirring of my heart and a conviction of what I already knew to be true: without connection, we will starve to death. 

“We were all hungry,” says the narrator. “But it was Elizabeth who realized our true starvation for connection—for the company of other people, for fellowship.” I replayed that movie three times in one week, completely captivated by Elizabeth and potato peel pie.

Are you like Elizabeth? Do you sense the hunger around you? Do you recognize the needs of others? 

As our world (and let’s be honest, our Church, too) grows more divided, angrier, and motivated by fear, are you able to see through the feelings and emotion and recognize the true hunger at the root of it all? The hunger not for potato peel pie but for godly connection and community rooted in truth. If this sounds like you, I ask that you pay attention to this call. God has placed this desire on your heart. He is calling you to build community so people can experience His kingdom here on earth. 

I say this with urgency because we need more people like Elizabeth. We need more women who are willing to step onto the battleground, which is steeped in isolation and division. We need women like you to feed truth to those who are starving for it. And yes, we specifically need women, because we are the heart of the home, the distillers of hope. We are an “irreplaceable support and source of spiritual strength for other people.”[1] Yes, even the other people we disagree with. Yes, even the other people who stand on the opposite side. My friends, if we are not the ones to extend a hand, share a meal, and reflect the image of Christ to all people, then tell me, who will? 

We have got to up our game.

We have got to start building Christ-centered communities.

We have got to step out in the confidence that what we have to offer is far greater than the cheap imitation of the living water that’s being bought and guzzled down like cheap wine.

It is not enough to say “we have the Truth”...we have to share it. We have to let others in on our reason for hope. 

And then...we need to lose our desire to be right, check our pride at the door, and listen well. I fear we have forgotten how to do this. 

I received a text last week from a friend, coincidentally (or not) named Elizabeth. It read: “The Holy Spirit has placed something on my heart, and before I brush it away, I’m going to reach out right now to invite you all to come to my house so that I can share it with you!” Amazingly, we all RSVP’d “yes” immediately. My guess? We were starving. And Elizabeth not only recognized it, she did something about it. It was as simple as that. Do not overcomplicate what it means to build community. You do not need engraved invitations, a fully planned agenda, a parish hall, a perfectly coordinated Bible study, or a new dining room set. Nor do you need to roast a pig—unless, of course, roasting pigs is one of your spiritual gifts. Then by all means, roast away. But honestly? It is much simpler than we think. It starts with spending time in prayer, opening our eyes to the people around us, and then extending an invitation. 

In Hebrews 10:24–25 we read, “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together...but encouraging one another.” Can we commit to doing this? Can we agree to live this verse out loud? To stirring one another up? To losing the excuse that we are too busy to get together by saying yes to that invitation? To rejecting the lie that “I have no friends” by going out and making friends?

How?

Approach the woman you see at daily Mass. Sure, you will feel weird, but that is okay. Weird won’t kill you, and weird just might save her life. 

Call that friend you lost touch with because you couldn’t believe who she voted for, and ask her to meet you for a cup of coffee. Do not let the enemy use politics to poison your friendships. You are holier than that.

Reach out to your pastor, and ask if he knows of a woman in need of a friend. Will this feel uncomfortable? You bet! Do it anyway, because spoiler alert: the Catholic faith is rarely comfortable.  

Heck, you can reach out to me, and my own little potato peel society will happily pray with and for you.

I am more convinced than ever that we, God’s beloved daughters, are exactly what the world needs right now. And what a tragedy it would be for us to hear the Holy Spirit, only to brush it away.

It is time to stir up one another. To send that text. To brew that coffee. To roast that pig. Community building is what we women do best. Dare I say, it’s as simple as making potato peel pie. 

Get out your peelers, ladies...we’ve got good work to do.

[1] https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_letters/1988/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_19880815_mulieris-dignitatem.html

Ah, summer 2021. A time that will forever be remembered as the post-quarantine summer. The world is opening back up again, and some people are making up for lost time as soon as possible.[1] Others are experiencing what some experts are calling “re-entry anxiety.”[2] 

I wonder where you fall on this spectrum as things begin to return to normal. Statistics have shown that women were especially hit hard during the pandemic with rates of depression, anxiety, and alcohol consumption skyrocketing.[3] For me, I’m somewhere between making up for lost time (“Hello, live music—I have MISSED YOU!”) and experiencing re-entry anxiety (“Do I need a mask in this store?” “Can we hug now?”). Our lives look different than they did a year ago, and our habits have likely changed as we have learned to cope with All. The. Things. 

In John 10:10, Jesus told us, “I came that you might have life, and have it abundantly.” I feel like my life during the past year definitely wasn’t abundant, but that this year has potential. How about you? Do you feel like your life is abundant right now? 

So, what is an “abundant” life? I think having an abundant life means having a life you love, not one that you want to run away from. I also think the abundant life Jesus spoke of is offered to us here and now, and isn’t related to our state in life or how much we are “making up for lost time” post-pandemic. This abundant life is one of peace, joy, and grace. It sounds lovely, in theory, but how do we attain it? I believe it requires a choice—a conscious decision to get back to the basics.

“Do the work you did at first.” (Revelation 2:5)

In his message to Ephesus in the book of Revelation, John praises the members for their works and virtues, but admonishes them to repent and return to their former devotion. 

This makes me think that the abundant life (having a life that we love) and doing the work we did at first (getting back to the basics of our faith) are intrinsically linked. Will you take a moment and pause with me to reflect on the last time your life felt full and abundant? What were you doing then? When was the last time you felt close to God? What are you not doing now that you were doing then? What habits have you dropped? 

Summer is a great time to reset our calendars and our priorities. Here are some basic things I’ve consciously decided to re-focus on in order to live the abundant life Jesus promised us. Will you join me in getting back to the basics this summer? 

• Prayer Time: Instead of fitting in prayer time between homeschooling and Netflix shows, I’ve started my regular morning prayer time again with the Walking with Purpose Praying from the Heart prayer journal and the Be Still 365-day devotional.
• Spiritual Life: I’ve resumed my weekly visits to the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes, it’s just a quick visit with my kids on our way into town, but I’m planning to work my way back to weekly holy hours this summer. 
• Sacraments: I took my family to confession for the first time in (many) months, and we’ve committed to go regularly again.
• Community: I will be joining an in-person WWP small group this fall and can’t wait to be in community with other women again!

“Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” —St. Francis of Assisi

As we re-emerge from the COVID-19 pandemic, we have some choices to make. Don’t be swept back into the hurried life you had before, and know that you don’t have to carry bad habits from quarantine with you. You can build a life you love—starting now—one step at a time. The abundant life Jesus offers is waiting for you. 

[1] Jordan Valinsky, “7 signs that summer is about to be lit,” CNN Business, May 29, 2021,  https://www.cnn.com/2021/05/29/business/summer-2021-back-to-normal/index.html.
[2] Maya Kachroo-Levine, “How to Work Through Your Re-entry Anxiety, According to a Licensed Therapist,” Travel+Leisure, May 28, 2021, https://www.travelandleisure.com/travel-tips/covid-reentry-anxiety.
[3] Dawn Sugarman and Shelly Greenfield, “Women, alcohol, and COVID-19,” Harvard Health Blog, April 6, 2021, https://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/women-alcohol-and-covid-19-2021040622219.

Do you long to find your people? Does the thought of belonging to a tight-knit group of loyal friends sound just amazing but you don’t know where to begin? 

I was recently at an after-school pool party with a group of new friends. They had all been close for some time, and I was a new addition to the mix. Their private jokes, easy laughter, and closeness to each other’s children had often caused me to want in. At the same time, I was aware that true belonging takes time. But on this day, at the pool, someone outside our party had said something rude to me and these new friends sprang to my defense. The truth is the comment wasn’t that big of a deal. I was ready to brush it off. But watching a group of women rally around me, try to shield me from careless words, and get ready to rumble for my sake felt really good. Surprisingly good. It made me realize that this is one of the things we like about friendship—a strength in numbers, a knowledge that you aren’t alone, and a sense that your people will defend you to the outside world. Once you feel on the inside of a group of women, most of us will do anything to stay there. In Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, King Solomon wrote, “Two are better than one…For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up.” We’ll make a lot of sacrifices, even sacrifice who we want to be, if it means we can avoid being alone. We need friends.

But are all friendships good ones? Not necessarily. They may be good in the sense that we belong or feel protected; we know we are unconditionally accepted and aren’t judged. Friends may be fabulous at lifting us up when we fall. These things are good and desirable, but unless a friend is leading you toward a good, virtuous life, then no matter how great it seems, it doesn’t classify as a good friendship.

Why can I make that claim? Because we become like our friends, slowly but surely. Proverbs 13:20 says, “He who walks with wise men becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.” When pivotal life circumstances hit, the people closest to you will greatly influence how you are going to respond. Are you going to become bitter? Are you going to embrace suffering as a way for you to grow? Are you going to lean into God or become distant from Him? Are you going to turn to Him, or will you seek to escape through alcohol, Netflix, scrolling through your feed…anything to distract you from what you feel? Which choice you make will often be determined by the people around you and the perspective they offer.

In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes about the difference between companionship and friendship. He writes of true friendship being a type of love where two people see the same truth or at least care about the same truth. He writes, “The man who agrees with us that some question, little regarded by others, is of great importance, can be our Friend. He need not agree with us about the answer.”[1] This leaves room for honest dialogue and sharing at a deeper level. It keeps us from living superficially and leads us to life-giving conversation.

I would like to suggest that an important question to think about in terms of our choice of friends is what we believe will make us happy. Others are “what matters most in life,” “why are we here,” and “what place does God play in these pursuits.” All these questions relate to our overall direction in life. Our answers to those questions impact the direction we are turned in. When we try to figure life out, do we turn upward to God, or do we turn inward to try to figure things out ourselves? Friends who point us to God help us wrestle with life’s big questions in the best of ways.

After unpacking the importance of friends pursuing truth together, C.S. Lewis goes on to say:

That is why those pathetic people who simply ‘want friends’ can never make any. The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends. Where the truthful answer to the question Do you see the same truth? would be ‘I see nothing and I don’t care about the truth; I only want a Friend,’ no Friendship can arise—though Affection of course may. There would be nothing for the Friendship to be about; and Friendship must be about something.

Maybe our problem is that our expectations for friendship have been too low. Could it be that there’s a level of friendship that we will experience only through being a part of a group of women that is pursuing the good life according to God’s plan?

This is where the Walking with Purpose community comes in. 

If you are looking for your people,
if you want to ask the deeper questions and be sharpened and helped by women around you,
if you are looking for a place where no one’s going to judge you,
if you want to be able to talk about your faith and who you are without editing your conversation, then I want to encourage you to come back to community.

This is where you’re going to grow in your faith, and you’re going to discover a depth of friendship you didn’t know was possible. You’ll experience edifying, authentic conversation in a place where the masks are dropped. You’ll be strengthened, you’ll be refreshed, you’ll be encouraged to stay on the path to the good life that God has for you. You weren’t meant to journey alone. We are here for you. The door is open. Will you take the next step?

With you in the pursuit of the deeper, good life-
Lisa

[1] C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves, 84.

Do you ever have one of those days when you don’t feel bad, but you don’t feel good, either? When you lack motivation and willpower? You feel stuck where you are but can’t quite get yourself to get moving?

If this is where you are today, you are not alone. Women across the United States are emerging from a year of societal lockdowns, uncertainty, and monumental changes. We are collectively pushing the door open, moving from a dark room into the bright outside world. We’re blinking our eyes and thinking about what we’re supposed to do next. There’s a sense that we should be feeling better than we are, but we’re feeling aimless and lackluster. We’re not necessarily burned out or depressed, but we’re definitely not flourishing. Author Austin Kleon pointed out that the Oxford Dictionary of English notes that plants may appear to be languishing simply because they are dormant. He goes on to say, “I’m not languishing, I’m dormant. Like a plant. Or a volcano. I am waiting to be activated.” The right conditions will make all the difference in terms of when and if the flourishing can occur.

It’s been a chaotic and disorienting year. Challenges came at us relentlessly, without notice. Moms who had never signed up for homeschooling found themselves managing virtual school, often while balancing work commitments outside their homes. Searching for necessities like toilet paper, worrying about the coronavirus, widespread loneliness and isolation, death of loved ones with or without a funeral, racial injustice, political unrest, canceled vacations and events—these things and more made it feel like a surreal or lost year. 

If we all were honest, I think we’d find that a high number of women are feeling tired of their lives. We’re dragging. Although things seem to be looking up, we’re not sure if we can trust the bits of good news we’ve received. If we get our hopes up, we risk being disappointed. Again.

My observations and musings are obviously anecdotal, but current statistics back me up. What’s pretty clear is that women are not doing very well. Current statistics indicate that women’s mental health has been suffering, alcohol consumption has risen drastically, and feelings of disconnectedness are widespread. Escapism gives us a momentary reprieve from our circumstances, but when it’s excessive it prevents us from ever getting to the root of our problems. 

If Austin Kleon is onto something when he describes us as dormant, it begs the question—what kind of an environment will help us bloom? What can help us see clearly and move forward? What will anchor us and help us regain our footing? We are longing for things to feel settled and normal again. We’ve got choices to make. Which ones will lead us toward the path to true flourishing? 

As I’ve reflected on the rising rates of alcohol consumption, Netflix binging, and online escapism, I am arrested by the following question: Instead of needing to escape our lives, how about if we build lives we don’t want to escape?

I’m obsessed with this question. I am convinced that if women could start to build lives they don’t want to escape, we’d find that so many of these destructive coping mechanisms wouldn’t be needed. And can we just be honest for a minute and admit that these coping mechanisms are found just as much in the lives of women who love God and are following Him? This isn’t a problem “out there,” it’s here.

We weren’t meant to journey alone. The isolation we have been experiencing has not been good for our hearts. We desperately need good community. Now, this might sound like I am diminishing the importance and significance of God. Shouldn’t He be enough? To be clear, encountering God personally is a total game-changer. His personal and never-ending love for you guarantees that He has never left your side. But even God Himself considers community a non-negotiable. God exists in community—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. He invites us into that divine relationship and wants us to move out in the world, gathering people closer to our hearts and His.

That is what the Walking with Purpose community and Bible studies set out to do. The accountability and comradery of a small group provides the support and encouragement that helps keep us on the right path. The study guides provide truth to ponder and questions for reflection, making Scripture accessible and relevant. We have all heard that we need to “do the work,” and we get it. We know there isn’t a magic pill that will fix what we don’t like about our lives. But doing the work in isolation with nothing but inspiring Instagram posts and grit will only get us so far. We need each other, we need structure, we need a guide, we need the Holy Spirit’s power. WWP leads us to those things and helps us move from good intentions to a new reality. It’s not one more thing on our plates—it is the plate. In John 10:10, Jesus said, “I came that you might have life, and have it abundantly.” That is what we’re pursuing at WWP. 

I am inviting you to come back to community and start building a life you love. Wondering where to begin? Grab one friend. Ask her if she’s feeling the same way. Commit to getting together once a week and chatting about a WWP Bible study lesson. Gather a few more friends. Keep going. Don’t give up. You need each other. Move over to the parish and keep gathering. Again, we need each other. That woman you think will be annoyed if you invite her to Bible study? It’s likely that she’s feeling disconnected, too. You may be the key to her experiencing the abundant life—starting to bloom instead of settling for being dormant. 

My friends, let’s get moving. I know summer is coming and we just want a vacation. But will a trip fix that listlessness inside? I think not. Don’t settle for a vacay when community is what you truly crave.

With you on the journey-
Lisa

[1] https://austinkleon.com/2021/04/26/im-not-languishing-im-dormant/