It is a new calendar year, with new resolutions and new ambitious goals.  We crack open delightfully empty new planners, begin hopeful new journals, form resolute new budgets, buy new gym memberships, and have jogging shorts with the tags still on.

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Now that we’ve got Thanksgiving under our (slightly loosened) belts, it’s time to turn our attention to something – new. While to our worldly senses, the year is winding down with a celebratory month of shopping, singing, decorating, and baking, our liturgical year has really – very quietly – just begun.

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Next month the Catholic galaxy will become a little brighter as the Church receives a new cluster of saints. Among the holy handful will be just one woman, a French Carmelite considered by Pope Saint John Paul II to be one the most influential mystics of his life.

Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity was born as Elizabeth Catez, “Sabeth” to her friends, in 1880. She was a hot-tempered child with sometimes “furious eyes” whose father died while she was young, forcing her mother to move Sabeth and her younger sister from their home in Dijon to a smaller second-story flat. From her window, little Sabeth could look down into the garden of the Carmelite convent.

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I took a fascinating online class on the nature of Mystical Theology in the Church this Spring. What precious time I could carve out from my busy life as a mom six, I spent delving into the works of St. John of the Cross and meeting a new friend, a little Carmelite mystic named Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity, often called a “spiritual sister” to St. Therese, the Little Flower. Late at night, huddled on the couch while the household slept, I read about the ascent of Mount Carmel, the famous allegory used by St. John of the Cross to describe the spiritual life, the journey of the soul’s toward union with God.

Our professor asked us to write our final paper on our own journey on this mystical mountain. He challenged us to reflect on how we could embrace the self-renunciation necessary to climb closer to the summit. After a few days of mulling this over mounds of laundry and miles of carpooling, here is what I came up with:

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Ten years ago I went for a walk with Alice von Hildebrand.  The lovely Catholic philosopher and theologian had come into Phoenix to give a talk on God’s love, and desiring to enjoy the weather and the views around Camelback mountain, she found me a willing companion.  Our conversation turned to my uncle, who had recently died after a terribly painful battle with stomach cancer.  I had described his life to her, and then she stopped me, looked into my eyes, and said in her beautiful accent, “You’ve got to write that.”  Firmly.  And I knew I should, not just because when Alice von Hildebrand tells you to do something, you probably should, but also because deep down I knew it was true.  So…it took me nine years, but here goes, and intentionally in time for the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, May  1st.

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My husband are I are raising six lively children; two-thirds of which are boys. (Come March, one will be a man...but let's not think about that just yet. Oy vey.) And the boys are bookends of the bunch.

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"The theme is Mercy," she said. "Our scripture is, 'He crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.' But what you want to talk about is up to you; just keep it to about 25 or 35 minutes."

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Last weekend my husband and I sneaked out for a rare evening to ourselves. I had been waiting for "The 33" to come to theaters; it was a familiar storyline to me - and to many - and I was anxious to see it dramatized.

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A work of art created to raise awareness of post-abortion pain suffered by women has been touching hearts around the world, including that of Pope Francis, thanks to the efforts of the father of a Women of Grace® facilitator from Arizona.

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When we welcomed Pope Francis into our country, I'm sure many of you moms, like me, dreamt of traveling to be with the crowds who were there to celebrate, listen, and pray with the pontiff. Of course, for most of us, it never got further than a fleeting, wishful thought.

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