When I hate my heart and body with all its problems that make me permanently infertile, I see a heart that was pierced for me and loves me when I can't love myself. If that perfect heart can love my imperfect one, then maybe I am worthy of love. When your heart can't take anymore, let His heart carry yours.

May Mary bring you comfort this Lent. Know that she is with you in the desert right now and always. Mother filled with anguish, pray for us. Mary, walk with me in my own Garden of Gethsemane. To help me understand, as you and Jesus did, that it is my “yes” that will bring me peace after the agony.

How often are we ignored? Made to feel that because our bodies can’t do this specific thing or look a certain way, we matter less. All we want is to be seen. Even if we are not gifted like young Matilda, we all have talents and interests, things that should be celebrated instead of tolerated or flat-out rejected.