A Morning of Overflowing Joy

I woke up today with an undeniable happiness, a joy that is literally bubbling out of me—so much so that I just want to keep telling Michael how much I love him (except he’s still sleeping) and praising and thanking God.

I’m normally a contented person, but this is more than contentment—it’s a flood of gratitude, an overflowing sense of being loved and held by God.

A Moment That Changed Everything

This joy makes me think back to a moment in my life that changed everything. A moment of complete despair.

From my seat in the courtroom’s public gallery, I watched in shock as my first husband was suddenly handcuffed and led through a side door to jail after a very condescending judge swiftly sentenced him for his third DUI in six months.

It happened so fast—we had driven there together, and now, just like that, he (and his income) was gone, without a glance or a goodbye. He was out of my sight and out of my life, at least for the foreseeable future.

I drove home with tears streaming down my face, dazed and confused. There was nothing good about this situation, but one terrifying question consumed me: Was I about to lose the house we had just bought seven months earlier?

The only hope I had was in God—and I needed Him to help me, now.

I went straight to my Bible—not with a plan, not with a strategy, just a desperate need for God to speak to me.

I gently tossed the Bible onto my bed, and as it bounced, it fell open. Before I could even begin searching for something familiar to comfort myself, my eyes immediately landed on Matthew 6:33—words I had never read before:

"But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

That verse became my life.

I backed up to see what “all these things” actually were, and from that day forward, I chose to live by that promise.

And God? He has been faithful.

I can trace everything good in my life today—my current marriage, my family, my peace—back to that moment of surrender.

A New Perspective at Mass

Yesterday at Mass, I witnessed something I had never seen before.

In our packed, 1,300-seat church—standing-room only—following the entrance procession and the sign of the cross that begins every Mass, our priest immediately called the entire congregation to kneel as an outward sign of the inward contrition of our hearts.

Normally, we follow the familiar rhythm of Mass, instinctively knowing when to stand, sit, or kneel. But this time, Father instructed us to kneel all at once—and in an instant, the entire church dropped to our knees together.

It was a powerful, visible sign of reverence to God.

There’s a scripture that says, “Every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess,” and for a moment, that’s exactly what it felt like.

Boom.

On our knees, pleading, Lord, have mercy.

And then, from that posture of humility, we entered into the penitential rite.

And because Mike and I had sat in the very back row—which I never do—I saw it from a completely new perspective.

The church wasn’t long, but wide, allowing me to take in the expanse of people kneeling together before the Lord, united in worship. There was a new level of attention to our prayer, brought on by the shift in posture before Him.

It was powerful. It was unity.

Overflowing Grace

Maybe that’s why this joy feels so different today.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been immersing myself in Father Mike Schmitz’s Catechism in a Year (and have been shocked at how readable it actually is!).

Maybe it’s because yesterday at church, I saw something so simple yet profound—a room full of people humbling themselves before God in a way that shifted the atmosphere.

Or maybe… it’s just grace overflowing.

I want the world to know this joy is real.

This peace is possible.

When we seek first the kingdom, everything else falls into place—and sometimes, that “everything” looks like waking up one morning and realizing your heart is so full it can barely contain itself.

God is so good.