The Simple Gospel

By: Brenda Wieneke

First Reading

2 Corinthians 9:6-10

Brothers and sisters:

Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each must do as already determined, without sadness or compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. Moreover, God is able to make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, always having all you need, you may have an abundance for every good work. As it is written:

He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.

The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

Gospel

John 12:24-26

Jesus said to his disciples:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.”

Reflection

Life has not begun unless it is lived out of the purpose it was made for. Until then, it floats around not living out of its purpose. It lives a life without meaning. It lives a life without the true meaning of life, especially the abundant life we were created to live, a life without spark, and a life without a heavenly spark, and most importantly, a life apart from its maker.

When life is lived not flowing from its true identity, it produces not much fruit. When life is lived out of its true identity, it produces fruit that not only sustains its own life, but fruit that sustains the life of others. Its fruit brings life to others. The fruits of the Spirit flow unto those that eat from it. Others can freely come with joy, knowing that they will be fed food that not only nourishes, but food that is filling for the soul. When our fruit is being nourished by its true source, Christ, its fruits are a visible sign of nourishment to those that eat from it.

Two images that I get when praying with both passages:

The Tree: Birds, insects, and other animals come to its branches to find rest.

The Flower and its Nectar: Bees feed on the nectar of a flower. When fed, the bee leaves feeling full because it has been fed well from that nectar. From that food, it leaves and produces honey, and that honey is then used for food and also to create soap and many other things.

The products produced from honey are used by millions of people all over the world. We humans have come back to the honey due to the reliability of its sweetness, what we can make from it, and how it has benefited us time and time again. What is produced by bees has been used for thousands of years and continues to be used as I write because we have tasted and seen the goodness that comes from it. We come back time and time again because we know of its importance.

Bees go back to flowers because the flowers continually produce good nectar for them to feed on. Both bees and humans go back to their source because of what it produces, and we know that it is good. Both have allowed themselves to truly live out of their identity and the reason why they were created. They have allowed themselves to fall to the ground and die to themselves, and through that death, they are able to produce fruit or food that many can use.

A good tree knows the importance of its roots, and it knows it can produce no good fruit unless it is being cared for by its source. The Lord will supply the seed to the sower and bread for food, and will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

Let us go back to the One who nourishes, plants, and increases our harvest of righteousness. A life well lived is a life to rejoice in! 

By: Brenda Wieneke

“We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.” Mother Teresa

As we prepare to move to Georgia in just five days, this summer has been one of the busiest we’ve had in a while. That busyness comes with a lot of time in the car, driving back and forth between Minnesota and Lincoln. As we’ve done this drive time and time again, I can see myself looking forward to it. But as I build up this excitement about driving, it is quickly taken away within five minutes of our trip due to the kids fighting or yelling, “Mom! Mom!” I can slowly see my inner silence and dreams of a quiet car turn into irritation.

One thing that has been coming back to me time and time again over the last two years is a deep desire for silence. Writing that out makes me laugh a little because silence is something I’ve always hated and ran away from every chance I got.

In my teens and early twenties, the thought of silence, going to a restaurant and eating by myself, or driving without any music was something I avoided at all times. Just the thought of silence made me deeply uncomfortable.

As I look back, I can’t help but ask myself: Why was I so afraid of silence? Why did I run away from it? Just the thought of being alone brought me so much anxiety.

Seven years into marriage and six years into this journey as a mom have brought this deep desire for interior silence. It is crazy that this is something I spent my whole life trying to run away from. Maybe one of the reasons I desire it so much now is because I know that whatever comes up in those silent moments, I am in a place where I will be able to handle it. Motherhood has made me into a person who is unrecognizable to my old self. Motherhood has molded me into the woman the Lord created me to be.

One of the biggest reasons I avoided silence was because I knew I didn’t want to deal with all the brokenness that might resurface. I knew I would be faced with parts of my story that I wanted hidden. I knew the Lord would bring up things I was so ashamed of, afraid of, and wounded by. I was still clinging to my own abilities and my own strength, rather than the Lord’s. I was trying to be my own savior, telling myself that if those things came up, I would have to find a way to fix them all. Living in that space left me disconnected from the Lord.

I knew I would have to confront the deep inner turmoil I had been hiding from. I would be consumed by how I actually saw myself which was not as the Lord’s beloved. I would be reminded of abandonment. I would loudly hear the names I was called by those who were meant to care for me. I would be forced to hear the little girl in me crying for help. I would be forced to hear:

 “Brenda, your mom has forgotten you and will never come back for you.”

 “You are useless.”

 “You are dumb; your life is a waste.”

 “Get your ugly self out of my face.”

I would be forced to hear all these lies that I was fed daily, lies that were spoken over me at every moment.

I spent years running, running away from it all, running from the constant lies I was feeding myself. Lies that I was unlovable. Lies that I was forgotten. Lies that I was unseen.

The Lord knew I would have kept running, running from Him, running from healing, and running from Him speaking truth into those broken places of my heart.

Motherhood has been the most beautiful experience I have ever known. It is a place where I’ve learned to mother and be mothered by my Heavenly Father. It is a place where I’ve finally learned not to run away, but to run toward Him. It is a place where the Lord has restored so many parts of my own story, leaving me craving more of Him. Motherhood has helped me understand the love of the Father and His heart for me. It has taught me that in the quiet and the silence is where we find our Lord. In silence is where He meets us. It’s where He reveals His majesty. In the silence of our hearts, the Lord speaks, and He waits for us to meet Him there.

As I’ve experienced the sweetness of the Lord in those quiet moments, I crave it more and more. My heart longs for it, and I seek it every chance I get because it’s where I meet my Lord.

By: Brenda Wieneke

Coming from a Protestant background, one of the biggest misconceptions about the Catholic faith is that they worship Mary. Before my own conversion to the faith, Mary was someone I never really understood. To me, she was like any other woman and there was nothing special about her. I remember rolling my eyes whenever she came up in conversation, especially when others spoke about her being sinless. Although I couldn’t stand the thought of her, there was always something deep in my heart, a deep love that was always there but had been clouded by my own woundedness and other views.

After becoming Catholic, the Church teachings on her were something that I respected but didn’t spend much time learning about. I was like a little kid doing everything to get my parents’ attention but not wanting to ask. Instead of asking them to look at me, I would throw temper tantrums to get their attention.

Through all my temper tantrums, she was standing right there, waiting for me to finally realize that her attention had already been given to me. Once that first realization clicked, the doors of my heart opened in a new way to her.

One of my first experiences with Mary was at the age of 12. During the two years that I lived with my dad, I was put in Catholic schools, and that opened a deep love for the Church that I didn’t know I had.

The Catholic school I attended was called Our Lady of Fatima Orphanage Mission (or Home). OLF focuses on caring for orphaned, abandoned, and destitute children. The school not only cares for orphans but also provides much-needed support to needy and abandoned children. With my dad and stepmom not having the means to care for me, I was accepted into this school.

Another experience that stayed with me happened when one of my dad’s girlfriends wanted to bond with me and decided to bring me to Mass one Sunday. Before Mass began, I wandered off by myself, looking around the church. As I walked, I came across a statue of Mary. I stood in front of it, said a prayer, and walked away. At the time, the moment felt insignificant, but years later it would become a meaningful part of my conversion and my understanding of Mary, her motherhood and her heart.

Motherhood has been truly a blessing to me. It has allowed me to see a glimpse of who God the Father is. It has forced me to confront deep wounds that had always been there but never addressed. Motherhood has stripped away the many walls I built to protect myself, exposing them and healing them at the same time. It has shown me the deep love Jesus has for us, a love so deep it led to His death. In my own small way, motherhood has given me a share in that love, a love so strong that I am willing to give of myself to my children daily.

My motherhood has become a place of healing that I never thought possible. Through that healing, I’ve been able to experience a deep and beautiful love for Mary as my Mother. In many ways, my own motherhood has been a redemption of the pain and abandonment I experienced with my own mother.

As I reflect on both, my heart still aches for my mother, but what I long for is being restored through my relationship with my own children.

While praying in the chapel today, I found myself reflecting on Mary’s motherhood, how completely she gave of herself to her child, her vocation, and her family. She was present from her first encounter with the Angel Gabriel, through her pregnancy, through the hidden years before His public ministry, through His Passion, and at the foot of the Cross. And she is still present. She gave all that she was in love and sacrifice, and that same love is now extended to us as her children.

She has met me in moments when I needed a shoulder to cry on, when I questioned whether what I was doing even mattered, when I am serving my family, especially my children, and when I needed a model for how to raise them. The more I have embraced my own motherhood, the more I have come to appreciate Mary as a mother. I have learned to embrace the hiddenness of motherhood while trusting that I am seen and heard. Though there is not much written about her life, the Holy Spirit reveals more of who she is when we open ourselves to it.

Looking back, that small prayer I said as a child in front of her statue was not insignificant at all. Something shifted in me in that moment. I return to it often because I now see it as the moment she quietly stepped into a role my heart deeply needed. In a real way, she became a mother to me especially as I continue walking through my own journey of motherhood.

Through her, I have learned to love even without having had that model. I have learned obedience to the will of the Father. I have learned to say “yes” in small ways, and those small yeses have grown into a willingness to say yes in bigger ways. I am still learning what it means to be a true disciple, and I continue to grow in that each day.

The words of John 19:26–27 have become especially meaningful to me: “When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.”

These are words I continue to pray with and I encourage you to do the same.

No matter what stage or season you are in right now, know that you have someone very close to your heart, someone who desires for you to experience a deep and real love, someone who gently leads you to her Son, and whose entire being reflects Him.

If there are walls or misconceptions that have hardened your heart toward her, know that the Lord sees you and desires for you to experience His love through His mother. She loves with a steady, faithful love a love that reflects her Son. She desires for you to know what it means to be cherished, to be seen, to be held, and to be loved by a mother.

🌸

By: Brenda Wieneke

If I had to pick a theme for the last four months, I would say “the Father’s love” or simply “Father.” Both have been coming up a lot for me lately. After ignoring it for a while, something happened that forced me to stop and really reflect on it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a friend, and she asked me, “What image do you get when you think of God the Father?” I remember saying that I don’t really see an image. What comes to mind is a big, empty room. There’s a presence in the room, but I can’t see or feel it. I know something is there, but I don’t have a relationship with it. I respect it and would do whatever it asks of me, but there’s no closeness.

As I reflected on my answer, I realized it mirrors my relationship with my earthly father which is essentially nonexistent. The last time I spoke to him was in 2021. Things had been building up for years, things I overlooked time and time again, but for my own well-being, I had to cut ties.

For years, when I thought of God the Father, I associated Him with my earthly father someone I deeply loved but did not feel loved by in return. Someone who hurt me and broke something in the little girl inside of me. Someone I loved, yet feared. Someone inconsistent. Someone I could never truly count on because I was let down over and over again. Someone who took from me but never gave. Someone who never seemed to care who abandoned me before I was even born and continued to do so throughout my life. Someone who disowned me.

But my Father in Heaven saw how deeply broken I was because of my earthly father. He knew my whole being needed healing, little by little, because my image of Him had been so distorted. He approached me gently, over time, giving me the space to receive Him for who He truly is. Instead of forcing Himself into the broken image I had, He began painting His own image of Himself on my heart.

I believe He has been doing this for years, but in the last four months, He has given me the grace to actually recognize it to see glimpses of the image He’s been painting.

Even though my dad disowned me when my mom was pregnant, she still wanted me to form my own view of him as I grew up not one based on her experience. Before I met him, I had this deep love in my heart for my dad. It felt like he could do no wrong. But when I finally met him, that image slowly faded.

I came to know a father who would leave for months at a time, and when he returned, he was often so drunk he could barely walk. The money he had was spent on alcohol and other women. There were times we went weeks without food, and we considered ourselves lucky if we had even a cup of rice. He created a chaotic home, with children from multiple women, which left me constantly questioning if I even belonged.

That feeling of not belonging stayed with me for years. The only place I have truly felt a sense of belonging is within my marriage and the family the Lord has created through us. And the Lord knew that what I desired most was to belong fully in my identity as His daughter.

Three weeks ago, the Lord brought me into a deeper step of that healing by leading me into solitude. I had planned to go on a pilgrimage to Rome while Jake took the kids to Arizona. But I faced one obstacle after another flight delays, ticket issues, weather problems, even sleeping at the airport. Eventually, I realized the Lord was calling me back home.

I remember driving home, crying, asking, “Lord, why? Why does this always happen to me? Do You even love me?” In that moment, I felt abandoned again. My distorted view of Him came rushing back thoughts like, “He doesn’t care about me” and “He always leaves me stranded when I need Him most.” I let it all out.

But as my heart began to settle, I started noticing the small graces He had given me throughout that difficult day. Slowly, my heart softened.

Instead of running from Him during that week alone at home, I chose to lean in, to press into who God the Father truly is.

As I let go, He began to paint His image more clearly on my heart. I encountered Him daily at Mass, receiving Him in the Eucharist, sitting with Him in adoration, waking early for mental prayer, and reading The Way of Trust and Love by Fr. Jacques Philippe.

Through that time, He began healing the broken image I had of Him.

By the end of what I now call my “silent retreat,” I could hear Him say how proud He is of me. The same Father who breathed life into me, who created me in His image, was now restoring my identity as His daughter. He breathes His Holy Spirit, Truth and Love into me, increasing my capacity to love and deepening my desire to carry the light of His Son to everyone I meet.

To close that week, the verse that stayed with me was Matthew 17:5:

“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.”

And in that, I heard the truth spoken over my own heart:

I am His beloved.

⸻

Prayer

Matthew 17:5

“While He was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.’”

By: Brenda Wieneke 🌸

“I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me.”

• John 10:14

To love is to know, and to know is to love.

We cannot love what we do not know.

When we use the word love for things like, “I love this book,” “I love this show,” “I love these shoes,” or “I love this food,” it’s because, in some capacity, we know them. We’ve experienced them. We’ve received some form of fulfillment or pleasure from them. And when we encounter them again, we can confidently say that we know them and love them.

But what does it mean to love the Lord?

To love the Lord, we first have to know Him.

We have to know:

• What moves His heart

• What brings Him joy

• What He delights in

• What makes Him smile

• What makes Him grieve

• What makes Him laugh

• What breaks His heart

• How He desires to spend His time

Love always involves an exchange.

And that exchange can either form us or deform us. If we “love” social media and spend most of our time there, what do we often receive in return? Anxiety. Comparison. Restlessness. Mood swings. A subtle erosion of peace. What we love shapes us.

“Lord, I Just Want to Know You More”

Earlier in my faith journey, my biggest prayer was simple:

“Lord, I just want to know You more.”

And that was it.

I prayed those words again and again. But then I would go about my day without intentionally thinking about Him. I wanted intimacy without participation. I wanted closeness without consistency.

It took me time to realize something humbling:

Christ works alongside our cooperation.

If we sit around waiting for something to fall out of the sky, the possibility of that happening is slim (not to put limitations on God). He invites us into relationship and relationship requires response.

All we have to do is take a step, and the Lord will work with each step we take.

What Acting on That Prayer Looked Like

For the Lord to work alongside my prayer, “Lord, I just want to know You more,” I had to act on it.

That meant:

• Consistency in prayer

• Reading His Word and allowing it to transform my life and heart

• Prioritizing the Sacraments and allowing them to take shape in my life

• Taking on Christ’s worldview

• Speaking as He speaks

• Serving as He serves

• Dying to myself

• Allowing His words to pierce my heart

And what I discovered is this: Christ is so selfless.

As we get to know Him, we learn that all of Him comes back to us.

What Moves His Heart is US.

What He delights in is US.

What brings Him joy is US.

What moves His heart is US.

What makes Him smile is US.

What makes Him grieve is US.

What makes Him laugh is US.

How He desires to spend His time is with US.

All that He is reflects back to US. We are His, and He is ours.

He adores every part of us the good and the broken. As sinful as we are, when He looks at us, He sees His own image reflected back. How can we run away when everything about Him leads right back to us? When all that He is draws us toward Himself, it should not be difficult to know and love Him.

Loving Boldly

To love is to know, and to know is to love.

When we proclaim our love for Him, we can do so boldly because we can confidently say that we know our Father’s heart, as much as we are humanly able.

And as we journey with Christ this Lent, let us truly get to know Him.

Prayer

“I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.”

John 10:14–15