MAGGIE: Mom going to confession has had me thinking about my own confession.

FATHER SAL: That sounds dangerous.

MAGGIE: Very funny. I was trying to remember the last time I went. I think it was six or seven weeks ago.

FATHER SAL: Why so long?

MAGGIE: Nothing dramatic. Kids. Soccer. Groceries. Somebody gets sick. Saturday comes and there are twelve things happening. Sunday comes and I think, “I should have gone yesterday.” Then another week disappears.

FATHER SAL: So you intend to go. You just don’t have a rhythm.

MAGGIE: I guess not.

FATHER SAL: That might be the first thing to fix.

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Make Confession a Rhythm

MAGGIE: How often am I supposed to go?

FATHER SAL: The Church requires us to confess serious sins once a year, but the spiritual masters recommend regular confession even when we aren’t conscious of mortal sin.

MAGGIE: What would you recommend for me?

FATHER SAL: Once a month?

MAGGIE: Really? Why so often?

FATHER SAL: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Regular confession isn’t just about cleaning up after something goes badly wrong. It gives grace for the ordinary battle of the Christian life.

MAGGIE: So put it on the calendar?

FATHER SAL: Exactly. Make it part of your normal routine.

MAGGIE: That doesn’t sound very spiritual.

FATHER SAL: There’s spontaneous spirituality and disciplined spirituality. This is more the latter. Prayer, exercise, Sunday Mass, dinner with your family—important things become easier when they have a rhythm.

MAGGIE: Okay. But I have another problem.

FATHER SAL: Which is?

MAGGIE: When I do go, I feel like I’m always confessing the same things.

FATHER SAL: Good.

MAGGIE: Good?

FATHER SAL: Not good that you commit them. Good that you know what they are.

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Get Curious About the Patterns

FATHER SAL: What do you usually confess?

MAGGIE: Impatience with the kids. Getting irritated with my husband. Wasting time on my phone. Sometimes gossip. Being distracted in prayer.

FATHER SAL: And those keep coming back?

MAGGIE: Yes. Which makes me wonder whether I’m making any progress.

FATHER SAL: Or maybe you’re discovering where your battles are.

MAGGIE: Meaning?

FATHER SAL: You’re not a random collection of sins. You’re a particular person with a temperament, habits, fears, desires, strengths and weaknesses. Certain temptations are going to recur.

MAGGIE: So confessing the same sins doesn’t necessarily mean I’m failing?

FATHER SAL: No more than anyone else. But recurring sins are worth getting curious about.

MAGGIE: How?

FATHER SAL: Take the impatience with your kids. When does it usually happen?

MAGGIE: Mornings. Trying to get everybody out the door.

FATHER SAL: When you’re running late?

MAGGIE: Usually.

FATHER SAL: And what happens inside you when you realize you’re late?

MAGGIE: I feel out of control.

FATHER SAL: There you are.

MAGGIE: So underneath the impatience is my desire for control?

FATHER SAL: Maybe. And here’s an interesting question: when you lose your patience, do you gain control or lose it?

MAGGIE: I’m trying to gain control of the situation, but I lose control of myself.

FATHER SAL: Isn’t that just like sin? It promises us something good and then fails to keep the promise.

MAGGIE: So what do I do with that?

FATHER SAL: Ask a simple question: What is this sin doing for me?

MAGGIE: What do you mean?

FATHER SAL: Sin usually promises us some real good in the wrong way. Control can promise security. Gossip can make us feel important. People-pleasing can make us feel loved. Endless scrolling can give novelty or escape. Anger can make us feel powerful.

MAGGIE: So, “What am I getting out of this?”

FATHER SAL: Exactly. Then you can begin looking for a better way to seek whatever good you were actually hungry for.

MAGGIE: That sounds a lot deeper than making a list of sins.

FATHER SAL: Sometimes it should be. But don’t turn every venial sin into a psychological excavation project either.

MAGGIE: So which is it? Dig deeper or don’t?

FATHER SAL: Here’s a simple rule: Recurring sins deserve curiosity. One-off sins usually just need repentance.

MAGGIE: I like that.

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Pay Attention Every Day

MAGGIE: But how do I notice the patterns in the first place?

FATHER SAL: A short daily examination.

MAGGIE: At night?

FATHER SAL: If that works for you.

MAGGIE: It doesn’t. By the time the kids are in bed, I’m done.

FATHER SAL: Then do it in the morning. You already pray then.

MAGGIE: I can examine yesterday the next morning?

FATHER SAL: God will allow it.

MAGGIE: Good to know.

FATHER SAL: Take the first two or three minutes of prayer and look back. Where was God at work yesterday? Where did I respond well? Where did I resist grace? Where did I sin? How can I respond better today?

MAGGIE: Two or three minutes?

FATHER SAL: You’re developing awareness, not preparing the annual report of your soul.

MAGGIE: And then when confession comes around, I’m not sitting in the parking lot trying to reconstruct the last month.

FATHER SAL: Exactly. Your daily examination feeds your regular confession. And over time you begin to notice not only your sins, but how God is working in you and where he seems to be inviting you to grow.

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From the Head to the Heart

MAGGIE: There’s something else I notice sometimes.

FATHER SAL: What?

MAGGIE: I confess something because I know it’s wrong, but honestly, I don’t always feel that sorry about it.

FATHER SAL: Interesting.

MAGGIE: Is that a bad confession?

FATHER SAL: I don't see why. Remember, contrition is an act of the will, not an emotion. You don’t have to make yourself feel terrible.

MAGGIE: That’s reassuring.

FATHER SAL: Feeling awful about your sin isn’t the goal. The question is whether you recognize that what you did was contrary to love of God and neighbor, whether you are sorry for choosing it and whether you genuinely want to turn away from it.

MAGGIE: Even if I don’t feel much?

FATHER SAL: Yes.

MAGGIE: So heartfelt confession doesn’t mean emotional confession.

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Let Someone Know You

FATHER SAL: Exactly. One more question. Do you usually confess to the same priest?

MAGGIE: No. Whoever happens to be hearing confessions.

FATHER SAL: Nothing wrong with that. But if you have the opportunity, there’s real value in a regular confessor.

MAGGIE: Because he gets to know me?

FATHER SAL: Exactly.

MAGGIE: I’m not sure that’s a selling point.

FATHER SAL: A good confessor can begin recognizing patterns you don’t see. If one priest hears about your impatience this month, another hears about your need for control next month and another hears something related two months later, each gets a snapshot.

MAGGIE: But one priest might see the movie.

FATHER SAL: Exactly.

MAGGIE: So I need to find some incredibly holy old priest?

FATHER SAL: I’d settle for a faithful, well-formed priest with experience, good judgment and a decent prayer life. In short, someone you trust.

MAGGIE: And if he’s not available?

FATHER SAL: Go to confession anyway. Don’t turn your regular confessor into another excuse not to go.

MAGGIE: Fair enough.

Maggie pulled out her phone.

FATHER SAL: What are you doing?

MAGGIE: Checking three Saturdays from now.

FATHER SAL: Three?

MAGGIE: If I schedule it for three weeks, I’m more likely to actually go once a month.

Father Sal smiled.

MAGGIE: You know, I started this conversation thinking confession was just something I needed to get around to.

FATHER SAL: And now?

MAGGIE: Now it sounds more like part of learning what God is doing in my life—and responding to it.

FATHER SAL: That’s much closer.

MAGGIE: Nothing very dramatic, then.

FATHER SAL: No, I suppose not.

He nodded toward her phone.

FATHER SAL: Sometimes holiness is simply learning to return sooner.

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Strength is one of those things we may not think much about until we notice we need it. Carrying groceries, lifting a child, climbing stairs, getting up from the floor, or spending an afternoon working in the garden all require strength. And while these everyday movements may seem simple, maintaining the strength to do them comfortably and confidently becomes increasingly important as we age.

Strength training isn't just about building muscle or lifting heavier weights. It's about giving your body the support it needs to keep moving well and participating in the activities you enjoy. By making strength a regular part of our fitness routine, we can invest in our ability to stay active, capable, and independent for years to come.

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Why Strength Matters as We Age

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Beginning in adulthood, we gradually lose muscle mass as part of the aging process. This loss can accelerate later in life, particularly when we aren't regularly challenging our muscles.

The good news is that strength training can help. Our bodies continue to respond to resistance exercise throughout life, including in older adulthood. You don't need to become a competitive weightlifter or spend hours in a gym. Consistent resistance exercises appropriate for your fitness level can help you preserve and improve muscular strength.

And strength training doesn't have to mean barbells and weight machines. Bodyweight exercises, resistance bands, dumbbells, and other forms of resistance can all have a place in a well-rounded routine.

Strength training benefits more than our muscles, too. Weight-bearing and resistance exercises can support bone health, which becomes increasingly important as bone density tends to decrease with age. Exercises that place appropriate stress on the bones can encourage the body to maintain bone strength.

Strength also plays an important role in balance and stability. Particularly as we age, maintaining strength in the legs and core can help us move steadily and respond when we lose our balance. Exercises such as squats, lunges, step-ups, and controlled single-leg movements challenge the muscles involved in everyday movement while also asking the body to stabilize itself.

Most importantly, strength helps us maintain our independence. Everyday activities require strength: standing up from a chair, carrying a laundry basket, getting in and out of the car, lifting a child, or walking up a hill. When we maintain our strength, we are better equipped to handle these ordinary tasks and continue participating in the activities that give our lives meaning.

Whether it's traveling, volunteering, caring for family members, gardening, or enjoying time outdoors, strength gives us more opportunities to keep saying yes.

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It's Never Too Late to Start

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Perhaps the most encouraging thing about strength training is that you don't have to have been active your entire life to benefit from it.

If you've never lifted weights before, start small. If you've taken a long break from exercise, begin where you are. A few simple strength exercises performed consistently can be more beneficial than an ambitious routine that you can't maintain.

As always, choose exercises that are appropriate for your current fitness level, and talk with your healthcare provider or a qualified fitness professional if you have health concerns or are unsure where to begin.

You can also make strength training a gradual part of your existing routine. Try adding two or three short strength sessions to your week. Focus on major movement patterns—such as squatting, pushing, pulling, and carrying—and increase the challenge slowly as your strength improves.

Pietra Fitness Online Studio offers classes for every fitness level, making it easier to find workouts that meet you where you are and help you progress at your own pace.

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Strength for the Life You Want to Live

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It's easy to think of exercise as something we do for the sake of exercise: completing a workout, reaching a number on the scale, or checking a box on our schedule.

But strength training can have a much bigger purpose.

We build strength so that we can continue living our lives fully. So we can carry the bags, climb the stairs, get down on the floor with the kids, hike the trail, tend the garden, travel with our families, and meet the physical demands of each new season.

Aging doesn't have to mean giving up our strength. With consistent movement and resistance training, we can continue developing a body that supports the life we are called to live.

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We can sometimes imagine holiness as something reserved for extraordinary people doing extraordinary things. We picture the saints performing heroic acts of virtue, enduring great suffering, or dedicating their entire lives to some remarkable mission. And while the Church certainly gives us saints whose lives were marked by extraordinary deeds, there is another path to holiness that is much quieter.

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St. Thérèse of Lisieux called it her “little way.”

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Thérèse did not become a saint by accomplishing great things in the eyes of the world. She entered the Carmelite convent at the age of fifteen and lived a hidden life within its walls until her death at just twenty-four. Yet she came to understand that this hidden, ordinary life could become a path to profound holiness.

The Little Way is not simply about doing small things. At its heart, it is a way of approaching God: with the trust of a child, with confidence in His mercy, and with a willingness to offer Him even the smallest acts of our daily lives.

As Thérèse wrote in Story of a Soul, she longed to become a saint but felt the distance between herself and the great saints was enormous. Rather than allowing her littleness to discourage her, she began searching for another way to God. She wrote that she wanted “a little way—very short and very straight” because she was too small to climb the “steep stairway of perfection.” She eventually found her answer in Scripture, particularly in the words, “Whosoever is a little one, let him come to Me.”

Her answer was not to try harder to become impressive. It was to become little—to recognize her dependence upon God and allow herself to be carried by His grace.

So how can we live the Little Way in our own ordinary lives?

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1. Begin with trust in God

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The Little Way begins with spiritual childhood.

For Thérèse, being “little” did not mean being immature or careless about the spiritual life. It meant knowing that she could not make herself holy by her own strength. She needed God.

She compared herself to a small child who wants to climb a staircase but is unable to make it up the steps. In another passage, she described the arms of Jesus as the “lift” that would carry her to Heaven. Her task was not to somehow become big enough to reach God on her own, but to trust Him enough to let Him carry her.

This is an important starting point for the Little Way because it changes the way we think about our own weakness.

We can be tempted to become discouraged by the gap between the person we are and the person we want to be. We know we should be more patient, more generous, more prayerful, less distracted, less selfish. We make resolutions and then fail to keep them. We lose our temper. We become impatient. We fall into the same faults again.

The response of the Little Way is not indifference toward sin. Thérèse wanted holiness very much. But she also refused to become discouraged by her littleness.

Instead, she trusted in God's mercy.

When you fail, begin again. Ask for forgiveness. Accept God's grace. Take the next small step.

Holiness does not require pretending that we are already saints. It requires allowing God to work in us precisely where we are.

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2. Offer God the small things

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Thérèse understood that love could be expressed through the smallest actions.

She spoke of offering Jesus the “flowers” of little sacrifices. For her, these sacrifices were not necessarily dramatic acts of penance. They could be the small opportunities for self-denial and love that appear throughout an ordinary day.

In one passage, she describes looking for little opportunities to please Jesus when she was experiencing spiritual dryness. A smile or a kind word when she would rather remain silent could become an offering. If no particular opportunity presented itself, she would simply repeat that she loved Jesus.

This is where the Little Way becomes very practical.

A mother can offer God the patience required to answer the same question for the fifth time.

A father can offer the inconvenience of stopping what he is doing to help someone.

A student can offer the effort of doing a difficult assignment well.

A coworker can choose a kind response instead of an irritated one.

Anyone can perform a task that needs to be done without needing anyone else to notice.

None of these things will look particularly impressive from the outside. That is precisely the point.

The Little Way teaches us to stop measuring the spiritual value of an action by how important it appears. A small act done with love can become an offering to God.

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3. Accept the ordinary annoyances of life

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Some of our greatest opportunities for holiness are found in the circumstances we would never have chosen for ourselves like interruptions that disrupt our plans, inconveniences that test our patience, and the people whose habits or personalities rub us the wrong way. 

Thérèse gives a particularly memorable example from her life in Carmel. One of the sisters had a habit that irritated her; during prayer, Thérèse could hear the continual clicking of the sister's little rosary. Instead of allowing her irritation to grow, she chose to bear it patiently and even came to see the noise as a kind of music she could offer to Jesus.

The incident was small. But for Thérèse, these small circumstances were precisely where love could be practiced.

This is one of the most challenging aspects of the Little Way because we often want holiness to happen on our terms. We might be willing to make a great sacrifice if we can choose the sacrifice ourselves. But the Little Way asks us to pay attention to the opportunities God has already placed in front of us.

Instead of asking only, “How can I get through this?” we can begin asking, “How can I love God and my neighbor in this?”

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4. Let ordinary work become an act of love

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One of the beautiful things about the Little Way is that it does not require us to escape ordinary life. Thérèse did not need to become famous or accomplish something spectacular in order to become holy. Her life was largely hidden within the walls of the Carmelite convent, yet she discovered that even the smallest duties and sacrifices could become opportunities to love God.

The same is true for us. Much of our lives is made up of things that can feel spiritually insignificant precisely because they are so familiar: cooking dinner, folding laundry, going to work, caring for children, studying, or simply helping someone who needs us. Yet when we approach these responsibilities with love and offer them to God, they become part of our path toward holiness.

The Little Way invites us to see that our ordinary responsibilities can become acts of love. We may never do anything that seems remarkable to the world, but we can patiently answer a child's question, complete an unpleasant task without complaining, or choose to serve someone when we would rather be left alone. These actions may go unnoticed by everyone else, but they are not unnoticed by God.

Thérèse understood that she did not have to do everything; she simply had to give God what was in front of her and do it with love. We can do the same.

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5. Begin again when you fail

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The Little Way does not mean that we will suddenly become perfectly patient, generous, or prayerful. Thérèse was deeply aware of her own weaknesses and imperfections, but she did not allow them to lead her into discouragement. Instead, she trusted in God's mercy and continued to turn back to Him.

This is an important part of spiritual childhood. When we lose our patience, fall into the same fault again, or fail to live up to the resolutions we have made, we can be tempted to become frustrated with ourselves. Thérèse offers another response: humility, trust, and a willingness to begin again. Our failures can remind us that holiness is not something we accomplish through our own strength. We need God's grace at every step.

Living the Little Way means learning to receive that grace with the confidence of a child. When we fall, we can ask forgiveness, entrust our weakness to God, and take the next small step toward Him. We do not have to become discouraged because we are still little. We can simply allow God to love us there and trust Him to continue His work in us.

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Holiness is closer than we think

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The gift of St. Thérèse's Little Way is that it reminds us we do not have to wait for extraordinary circumstances to become holy. The people we live with, the responsibilities we carry, the inconveniences we encounter, and the small acts of love we offer each day can all become opportunities to draw closer to God.

Thérèse teaches us to approach these ordinary moments with the trust of a little child: confident in God's mercy, willing to accept our littleness, and ready to offer Him whatever comes our way. The path to holiness may look very ordinary, but when our ordinary lives are placed in God's hands and lived with love, nothing is insignificant.

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We live in a world where friendship can sometimes feel like a numbers game. We can have hundreds of social media connections, dozens of acquaintances, and countless people we interact with throughout the week. Yet, despite all these connections, genuine friendship—virtuous friendship—is something much rarer.

As Christians, we are called to love everyone. But that doesn't mean we are called to be equally close to everyone.

There is an important distinction between loving our neighbor and entrusting our heart. We can be kind, welcoming, generous, and charitable toward anyone we meet while still recognizing that only certain relationships are suited for deeper intimacy. Learning to navigate that distinction is an important part of growing in wisdom and virtue.

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What Makes a Friendship Holy?

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Friendship is a natural human good. We were not made to walk through life alone, and Scripture repeatedly shows us the importance of companionship, encouragement, and mutual support. But not all friendships have the same purpose or depth.

The ancient philosopher Aristotle recognized three basic kinds of friendship: friendships of utility, pleasure, and virtue.

A friendship of utility exists because two people benefit one another in some way. Think of business partners who work well together, coworkers who help each other succeed, or neighbors who exchange favors. A friendship of pleasure is based on the enjoyment we find in another person's company. We like the same activities, laugh at the same jokes, or simply enjoy spending time together.

Neither of these types of friendship is necessarily bad. In fact, most of our relationships will naturally contain elements of both. We can be grateful for the neighbor who lends us a hand or the friend who always makes us laugh.

But Aristotle considered friendship based on virtue to be the highest kind. In this friendship, we don't merely love someone because of what she can do for us or because we enjoy being around her. We love her for who she is and desire what is truly good for her.

This gives us a helpful way to think about holy friendship. A holy friendship is not necessarily one in which two people spend every conversation discussing prayer or theology. Rather, it is a friendship in which both people genuinely desire what is good for the other—and ultimately, what leads the other closer to God.

A holy friend can laugh with us, enjoy ordinary life with us, and share our interests. But she can also encourage us when we are discouraged, challenge us when we are making excuses, and remind us of what is true when we have lost sight of it.

Holy friendship is not about finding someone who always agrees with us. It is about finding someone who loves us enough to want our good.

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Love Everyone, Entrust a Few

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The life of Jesus gives us a beautiful example of how love can be both generous and personal. Jesus loved everyone. He welcomed strangers, healed the sick, showed compassion to crowds, forgave sinners, and even commanded us to love our enemies. Yet His perfect charity did not mean that every relationship had the same degree of intimacy.

We see this in the different circles of relationship throughout His earthly ministry. There were the crowds who followed Him, the larger group of disciples, and the Twelve Apostles. And within the Twelve, Peter, James, and John shared a particular closeness with Jesus, accompanying Him at moments such as the Transfiguration. Jesus also had a special friendship with Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. The Gospel of John even tells us plainly that Jesus loved them.

Jesus' example reminds us that loving everyone does not mean being equally intimate with everyone.

This is an important distinction in our own friendships. We should strive to be friendly, kind, welcoming, generous, and charitable toward the people God places in our lives. We can greet the new person at church, make conversation with a neighbor, encourage a struggling mother, or share a laugh with someone we encounter during the day. This is part of loving our neighbor.

But friendliness and intimacy are not the same thing.

Intimacy involves opening our hearts. It means allowing another person to see parts of us that we don't share with everyone. Our deepest struggles, wounds, fears, hopes, and joys require a certain degree of trust—and trust is built over time.

We don't have to tell everyone everything about ourselves in order to be authentic. We don't have to disclose our most personal struggles simply because someone asks. And we don't have to feel guilty for recognizing that a particular relationship isn't one in which we should share our deepest vulnerabilities.

This isn't uncharitable. It is prudence. Prudence helps us recognize that different relationships call for different levels of openness and trust. We don't have to tell everyone everything about ourselves in order to be authentic, nor should we feel guilty for recognizing that a particular relationship isn't one in which we should share our deepest vulnerabilities.

In fact, recognizing the difference between friendliness and intimacy allows us to love both more faithfully. We can offer genuine charity to everyone without expecting every relationship to become a close friendship, and we can give our deepest trust to those who have demonstrated that they can receive it well.

That trust is what allows a friendship to become something more than companionship. When we know that someone genuinely loves us and wants what is good for us, we can allow her to speak honestly into our lives—and we can be willing to hear it.

Related: On a Mission: Living Out The Great Commission as a Disciple of Jesus

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Father Sal’s office. Ellen, Maggie’s seventy-three-year-old mother, enters.

FATHER SAL: Hello, Ellen. I’m glad you came. Please, have a seat.

ELLEN: Thank you, Father.

She settles into the chair across from him.

FATHER SAL: What brings you here today?

ELLEN: Maggie, mostly. I’m visiting her this week. Have you noticed how different she is?

FATHER SAL: Why don’t you tell me?

ELLEN: She seems happy. Not that she was miserable before. But there’s a peace about her now. Yesterday, one of the children spilled Cheerios all over the table while another was crying about something upstairs. She was already running late. I was getting upset just watching.

Father Sal nods.

ELLEN: She got the trash can, slid it to the one who spilled the cereal, and went to see what was wrong upstairs. No big speech. No making everyone feel terrible. Later, they were all laughing about something. The children seem happier, too.

FATHER SAL: Mm-hmm.

ELLEN: I asked her what had changed. She said she’d been learning to pray. Really pray. And she said you’d helped her. So I thought perhaps I would come see you… My husband died two years ago. I still sometimes hear something funny and think, “I’ll have to tell him that.” Then I remember.

Father Sal listens.

ELLEN: And there have been other funerals. People I thought I’d grow old with. My knees aren’t what they were, either. I used to spend a whole day with the grandchildren. Now I’m worn out after a couple of hours.

She pauses.

ELLEN: Most of my life, someone needed something from me. Now I go home and turn on the television just so there’s another voice in the house.

FATHER SAL: Mmm.

ELLEN: And I know I could pray. I keep thinking I should. But when I turn everything off, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Father Sal nods and waits.

ELLEN: I taught Maggie her prayers, you know? We took the children to Mass. I haven’t forgotten that. But somewhere along the way, prayer became something I meant to get around to. Or something I did when I needed God to fix a problem.

She looks down at her hands.

ELLEN: Now I finally have time to be with Him, and I hardly know how. It’s embarrassing to say that at my age.

FATHER SAL: What would you like to be different?

ELLEN: I want to know Him. Not just know what I’m supposed to believe. When Maggie talks about Jesus, He’s someone she’s spending her life with. I want that.

Have I Waited Too Long?

FATHER SAL: And what gets in the way?

ELLEN: Honestly, Father? I think it’s too late.

FATHER SAL: Too late for what?

ELLEN: To change. To become someone who really loves God. I’m seventy-three, Father. I don’t know how much time I have left. I keep looking back and thinking of all the times I could have turned to Him and didn’t.

FATHER SAL: You wish you’d begun sooner.

ELLEN: Much sooner.

FATHER SAL: That may mean it’s late. What makes it too late?

ELLEN: All those years. You can’t get them back.

FATHER SAL: You can’t. God can.

ELLEN: What do you mean?

FATHER SAL: He can redeem all of you, even your past. Saint Teresa of Avila knew that from experience. She had even given up mental prayer for a time. God drew her back. After years, she put her trust in Him and begged for the strength she couldn’t give herself. She tells us that she began to change. The Book of Her Life, chapters 7–9

ELLEN: Teresa of Avila gave up prayer?

FATHER SAL: For a time, yes. And through that experience she learned that God could recover lost time in a moment. Soliloquy 4

ELLEN: But she still had plenty of time to become a saint.

FATHER SAL: Well, ok. How much time did the good thief have while he was dying next to Jesus?

ELLEN: Not very much.

FATHER SAL: And do you remember what Jesus told him?

ELLEN: Remind me, Father.

FATHER SAL: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Luke 23:39–43

Ellen sits quietly for a moment.

ELLEN: Today.

FATHER SAL: Yes. It was late. It wasn’t too late.

He Calls You by Name

ELLEN: But I still have so much to change. So much I should be doing.

FATHER SAL: (Gently.) Ellen, Ellen, you are worried about many things. One thing is necessary. Cf. Luke 10:41–42

She looks up, recognizing the words.

ELLEN: Martha.

FATHER SAL: Yep. And her sister Mary chose to be with Jesus. Would you like to choose Him now?

ELLEN: Yes, Father. I would.

FATHER SAL: Let’s try a little meditation from Saint Francis de Sales. It’s near the beginning of his Introduction to the Devout Life, after meditations on death, judgment, hell, and heaven. He brings the reader to a choice about how to live now.

ELLEN: That sounds rather serious.

FATHER SAL: It is. But listen to the invitation. First, let’s look at Jesus on the Cross, remembering that God is here with us and ask Him to help us.

They pause.

FATHER SAL: Ellen, imagine two kingdoms. On your left is Satan, surrounded by people consumed with envy, hatred, and selfish desires. On your right is Jesus crucified, calling people to come to Him. Around Jesus are people living ordinary lives with love: husbands, wives, widows.

ELLEN: Widows, father?

FATHER SAL: Yes. And some of His people are suffering. Their troubles haven’t disappeared. But they have chosen Him. Imagine yourself there with Jesus before you. He calls you by your own name: “Ellen.” Part I, Chapter 18

Ellen looks toward the crucifix on the wall.

FATHER SAL: Listen to the love in His invitation. He is calling you to come to Him.

Ellen closes her eyes. Father Sal waits.

ELLEN: I keep wanting to explain why it took me so long.

FATHER SAL: You can tell Him. But first, let yourself hear Him calling you.

They sit in silence.

FATHER SAL: What is He saying to you?

ELLEN: (Her voice cracks.) “I have been waiting for you a long time, daughter.”

Ellen begins to tear up.

FATHER SAL: And what, if anything, do you wish to say to Him?

ELLEN: I’m sorry, Lord. I’m sorry it’s been so long.

FATHER SAL: Does how long it’s been keep Him from welcoming you?

ELLEN: No. He’s just happy I’m here right now.

She opens her eyes and looks toward the crucifix again.

FATHER SAL: Is there anything else you want to say to Him?

ELLEN: Jesus, I want to be with you. I want to know you. And whatever is keeping us apart, I want you to take from me. Whatever can bring us closer together, I ask you to give me. That’s it. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Father Sal lets the silence remain.

Five Minutes with Jesus

ELLEN: I’m not sure what happens next.

FATHER SAL: Think of the good thief. Did choosing Jesus get him down from his cross?

ELLEN: No. But he got to be with Jesus.

FATHER SAL: His circumstances stayed the same. His relationship with Jesus changed. What about you?

ELLEN: I’m going home to the same life. But I want to live it with Him.

FATHER SAL: Then what would make sense for you to do now?

ELLEN: I could start praying every morning. Maggie has some books I could borrow. Perhaps I should make a retreat. Or spend an hour in the chapel every day.

FATHER SAL: Yeah. Those are some pretty big things. What’s one little thing that’s so obvious and easy you’d be silly not to do it?

ELLEN: I could go into the chapel for five minutes before I leave. I walked right past it on my way here.

FATHER SAL: And what would you do?

ELLEN: Sit down. Tell Him thank you for calling me. Tell Him about missing my husband. About being afraid. About wanting to know Him.

FATHER SAL: How does that sound?

ELLEN: Too good. Too easy.

Father Sal chuckles, then looks sternly.

FATHER SAL: And everything needs to be hard?

ELLEN: I suppose not.

FATHER SAL: So what are you going to do?

ELLEN: Go sit with Jesus.

She picks up her purse, then sets it down again.

ELLEN: There is one more thing, Father. It’s been a long time since my last confession. Would you hear it?

FATHER SAL: Of course. The chapel is empty. Would you like us to go there?

ELLEN: Yes, please. And afterward, I’ll stay awhile.

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When we think about being active, we often picture intentional exercise: going for a run, taking a fitness class, or spending time at the gym. But structured exercise is only one part of an active lifestyle.

You can exercise regularly and still lead a largely sedentary lifestyle. Small moments of movement like walking through the store, doing chores, playing with your children, or taking the stairs, can help break up those long periods of inactivity.

Movement does not have to be perfectly scheduled or happen all at once. Sometimes, becoming more active simply means looking for small opportunities to get up and move throughout your day.

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Signs You May Need More Movement in Your Day

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You do not need a fitness tracker to recognize when your days have become especially sedentary. Sometimes your body may give you little reminders that it has been in the same position for too long.

Perhaps you notice stiffness or discomfort in your joints after sitting for long periods. Maybe your back, shoulders, or neck frequently feel tight. You might find that you feel sluggish or low on energy throughout the day, even though you are not necessarily doing anything physically demanding. Some people also notice that long periods of inactivity seem to leave them feeling mentally foggy or less focused.

Inactivity can affect more than just how your muscles and joints feel. Spending most of the day sitting may also contribute to feeling bloated or sluggish, and regular movement can help support healthy digestion. You may also notice that everyday activities like climbing stairs, carrying groceries, playing with your children, or walking longer distances, feel more difficult than they once did.

Of course, these symptoms can have many possible causes, so they are not always a sign that inactivity is the problem. But they can be a helpful reminder to take an honest look at how much or how little you are moving throughout the day.

Once you begin noticing when you’re active and when you’re not, you can begin to look for small and realistic opportunities to add more movement to your day.

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Easy Ways to Move More Every Day

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1. Take a Short Walk

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One of the simplest ways to add movement to your day is to walk.

You do not need to commit to an hour-long walk. Try taking a ten-minute walk in the morning, after lunch, or after dinner. Walk around your neighborhood, take the children to a nearby trail, or simply make a few laps around your yard.

If ten minutes feels like too much on a particularly busy day, start with five. A short walk is still a walk.

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2. Try a 10-minute Workout

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Sometimes the biggest obstacle to exercise is simply feeling like you do not have enough time. On those busy days, a shorter workout can make movement feel much more manageable.

Pietra Fitness offers short, 10-minute workout classes that can easily fit into the small pockets of time you already have in your day. You might squeeze in a class before the children wake up, during nap time, while dinner is cooking, or whenever you find a few quiet minutes.

You do not always need a long workout to make movement part of your day. Ten minutes is a simple place to start—and a short class can be a helpful way to move with intention even when life feels especially busy.

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3. Set a Reminder to Get Up

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When we are focused on work, school, or even a good book, it is easy to remain in the same position for a long time without realizing it.

Consider setting a gentle reminder to stand up and move around periodically. Stretch, walk to refill your water, step outside for a moment, or do a few simple exercises. These little movement breaks can also provide a welcome mental reset.

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4. Make Household Tasks More Active

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Housework may not be everyone's favorite activity, but it does offer opportunities to move.

Put on some music while you clean. Take an extra trip up the stairs instead of carrying everything at once. Spend time gardening, sweeping, organizing, or tackling a project that has been sitting on your to-do list.

Instead of thinking of movement as something separate from the rest of your life, begin to notice how naturally it can fit into the work you are already doing.

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5. Play With Your Kids

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If you have children, join them in their play! Kick a ball around the yard. Dance in the kitchen. Ride bikes. Play tag. Take a family walk or head to the playground.

Children often have a wonderful ability to remind us that movement can be joyful. It does not always have to be structured, measured, or productive. Sometimes moving simply because it is fun is reason enough.

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6. Try Habit Stacking

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One of the easiest ways to establish a new habit is to attach it to something you already do regularly. This approach, often called habit stacking, can make it easier to remember to move because you are connecting a new behavior to an existing part of your routine.

For example, you might take a short walk after breakfast, stretch while your tea or coffee is brewing, do a few squats while waiting for dinner to cook, walk around the house while talking on the phone, or take a lap around the block after picking up the mail. By connecting movement to habits that are already part of your day, you can make being active feel less like another item on your to-do list and more like a natural part of your routine.

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7. Break Up Screen Time

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Many of us spend a significant portion of the day looking at screens for work, school, entertainment, or connection. Consider using some of your breaks as opportunities to move rather than simply switching from one screen to another.

Stand up. Stretch. Walk outside. Do a few minutes of strength or mobility exercises. Even better, try creating screen-free pockets in your day that naturally encourage you to do something else.

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8. Do What You Enjoy

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You are much more likely to keep moving if you choose activities you actually like. You do not have to run if you hate running. You do not have to force yourself through a workout that leaves you dreading the next one.

Maybe you enjoy dancing, hiking, swimming, strength training, cycling, or taking long walks with a friend. Maybe your favorite form of movement is a Pietra Fitness class that allows you to care for both body and soul. 

There is no single “right” way to move. The best routine is often the one that fits your life and that you can return to consistently.

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Discovering Your Root Virtue

“I think Rachel might be making me a worse person.”

Father Sal looked up from his coffee. “That would surprise me.”

Maggie laughed. “Okay, Rachel isn’t doing anything wrong. She’s wonderful. That’s the problem.”

“How is that a problem?”

“She’s patient with her kids. She gets up early to pray. Her house is organized. She exercises every day. She’s always doing something thoughtful for somebody. And somehow she never seems rushed.”

“And you’ve decided this is unacceptable?”

“No. I’ve decided I should be more like her.”

Father Sal smiled. “Ah.”

“So I started getting up earlier to pray. I tried her meal-planning system. I’m working on patience and gratitude. And I really should be more hospitable.”

“How’s it going?”

“I’m exhausted.”

Father Sal laughed.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Maggie smiled. “Fine. A little funny.”

“Maggie, do you think God is asking you to become Rachel?”

“No.”

“Then why are you using Rachel’s vocation as the blueprint for yours?”

Maggie stopped.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t learn from her. We learn virtue from other people. We imitate the saints. But God didn’t make you one way and then call you to become another. He calls you to become the woman He made you to be.”

“So I can stop working on patience?”

“Nice try.”

Maggie laughed.

“You need patience. So does everyone else. But perhaps you’re scattering your energy among a dozen good things instead of asking a more fundamental question.”

“What question?”

“What is the particular way God is calling you to become holy?”

The Tree and the Root

“Isn’t everyone called to the same thing? Love God. Love your neighbor. Become a saint.”

“Absolutely. But does quiet St. Thérèse look like fiery St. Catherine of Siena?”

“Not particularly.”

“Does Mother Teresa look like St. Francis of Assisi?”

“No.”

“Yet they all became like Christ.”

Father Sal leaned forward.

“Think of your personal vocation as a tree. The whole tree is the particular life God is calling you to live: your relationships, gifts, responsibilities, mission, the people He gives you to love.”

“And Rachel has her tree.”

“Exactly. And you have yours.”

“So what does that have to do with virtues?”

“Every tree needs roots.”

Father Sal paused.

“St. Francis de Sales recommends choosing one particular virtue to cultivate carefully. Instead of scattering our attention everywhere, we can ask whether there is one virtue that lies especially close to the roots of the person God made us to be.”

“One virtue?”

“One root virtue. Not the only virtue you need. The root that helps nourish the others.”

“Like what?”

“Francis of Assisi fell in love with poverty. St. Thérèse built her little way around confidence. St. John Paul II became a witness to hope. Their holiness wasn’t limited to one virtue, but you can almost smell a particular fragrance when you encounter each of them.”

“So they figured out their thing?”

“Yes, they discovered something God had already planted in them—and then gave themselves to it.”

Stop Staring at the Weakness

“That’s not how I normally think about the spiritual life,” Maggie said.

“Hmm, how do you think about it?”

“Mostly I notice what I’m doing wrong.”

“That has its place. We need examination of conscience, repentance, confession. But if the only question you ask is ‘What’s wrong with me?’ you can spend your whole life staring at your weaknesses and never get very far.”

“Isn’t that how you overcome them?”

“Sometimes. But more often God uses our greatest gifts to transform our greatest weaknesses. Think of St. Paul. Before his conversion, he was zealous enough to persecute Christians. After meeting Christ, did he become less zealous?”

“No.”

“No, he became more zealous. The man who had poured himself into persecuting Christ poured himself into proclaiming Christ. Grace didn’t erase Paul; it transformed him.”

“So maybe the answer isn’t always fixing what’s wrong with me.”

“Right, maybe a better place to begin is asking what God has already given you—and what He wants you to do with it.”

How Do I Know?

“All right,” Maggie said. “What’s my root virtue?”

“Great question!”

She stared at him. “And...”

“I don't know.”

“Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“I could. Other people who love you could too. But if this is the root of God’s call for you, don’t you think there’s someone better to ask?”

“You mean Him?”

“Yep.”

“So what do I do?”

“Look at your life. Sometimes the most important things about us are hidden in plain sight.”

He took out a piece of paper.

“Which saints have stirred your heart most deeply? Not the ones you think you’re supposed to admire. Which ones make something inside you come alive? Why?”

Maggie nodded.

“When have you felt most alive loving God or serving another person?”

He wrote another question.

“What gifts do other people consistently recognize in you?”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Humility isn’t pretending God gave you nothing.”

“Fair.”

“Now imagine a stranger watched a movie of your life. What would she be shouting at the screen for you to notice as your greatest gift?”

Maggie laughed. “Who knows?”

“Exactly.”

He wrote two final questions.

“Then stop analyzing and start talking to God.”

Maggie read them aloud.

“‘Holy Spirit, what have You been cultivating in me throughout my life?’”

“‘Father, what gift have you put in my heart?’”

She sat quietly.

“And then?”

“Listen.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And what if I think I found an answer?”

“Test it. Does it fit the story God has been writing? Does it help you love Him and others? Do people who know you recognize it? Does it bear good fruit?”

“And if it does?”

Father Sal smiled. “Then cultivate it.”

Tend the Root

Maggie folded the paper and slipped it into her purse.

“So no answer today.”

“Well, maybe. Just not from me.”

“That sounds suspiciously like something a priest says to trick me into praying.”

“Probably.”

She stood to leave.

“Maggie?”

She turned.

“Rachel sounds wonderful.”

“She is.”

“Then thank God for Rachel. Learn from her. Love her. Just don’t ask her life to tell you who you are.”

Maggie nodded.

“Right. Ask God.”

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Remember: God didn’t make you one way and then call you to become another. He calls you to become the woman He made you to be.

Questions for Prayer

1. Which saints or stories of saints have stirred my heart most deeply? What attracts me to them?

2. When have I felt most alive while loving God or serving others?

3. What gifts do other people consistently recognize in me? (If you don’t know, you can ask.)

4. If a stranger watched the story of my life, what would she be shouting at the screen about my gifts?

5. Holy Spirit, what have You been cultivating in me throughout my life?

6. Father, what gift have you put in my heart?

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Have you ever noticed that it is harder to relax in a room where laundry is piled on the couch, papers cover the counter, and toys seem to multiply across the floor? Or that you can think more clearly after clearing your desk or making your bed?

That feeling is not just in your imagination. Our environment affects us more deeply than we often realize, and clutter can contribute significantly to feelings of stress, overwhelm, and mental fatigue.

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Our brains are constantly taking in information from our surroundings. Every object in our field of vision demands a tiny bit of attention, whether we consciously realize it or not. When these visual reminders accumulate, so can our stress.

Researchers have found that cluttered environments can increase levels of cortisol, the body's primary stress hormone, especially in women. Even if we become accustomed to the mess around us, our brains continue to process it as excess stimulation.

In other words, clutter creates more noise in our already busy brains.

It also creates what psychologists call decision fatigue. Every item asks something of us: Where does this belong? Should I keep it? When will I deal with it? Individually, these decisions seem insignificant, but together they place a steady demand on our attention and energy. The more visual input our brains are forced to process, the less energy we have available for focused work, creativity, relationships, and rest.

This is one reason clutter can make rest feel surprisingly difficult. Rest requires a certain amount of psychological safety. It is difficult to sit down with a cup of tea, read a book, or enjoy time with your family when your surroundings are constantly signaling that there is more work to do.

Many people find themselves unable to relax in cluttered spaces because the environment keeps their brains in a state of low-level vigilance.

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We Were Made for Order

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As Christians, we recognize that there is something deeper happening here than mere preference for tidiness.

The opening pages of Genesis reveal a God who brings order out of chaos. He separates light from darkness, land from sea, and fills creation with beauty, purpose, and harmony. Creation itself is an act of ordering.

As creatures made in the “image and likeness” of God, we are drawn to that same order. When we create order in our homes and workplaces, we are, in some small way, participating in God's work of bringing peace, purpose, and beauty out of chaos.

This does not mean we are called to sterile homes or perfectionistic standards, but it’s important that the spaces in your life serve you not enslave you. The goal is creating spaces that support the kind of life we want to live.

The good news is that reducing clutter does not require a massive decluttering project or a complete lifestyle overhaul. Often the most effective changes are also the smallest:

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• Spend five minutes each evening resetting the main living spaces.
• Give frequently used items a designated home.
• Clear one surface completely before moving on to another area.
• Keep a donation box somewhere accessible so unused items can leave the house quickly.
• Follow the "one in, one out" rule for clothing, toys, or household items.
• Tackle one drawer, shelf, or corner at a time rather than trying to organize an entire house in a weekend.
• Focus first on the areas where you spend the most time or where you most want to feel peaceful.

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Creating order in our homes will not solve every source of stress in our lives. But reducing the constant visual and mental noise of clutter can make more room for focus, rest, hospitality, and peace.

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