Grace Filled Lemons

One of the greatest treasures of the Catholic faith is that we don’t simply celebrate events from Scripture once and move on. We are invited to live them, year after year, season after season.

The liturgical year gently forms our hearts by leading us through the life of Christ.

In Advent, we learn to wait.

At Christmas, we rejoice that God entered our world as a tiny child.

During Lent, we examine our hearts and return to the Lord.

At Easter, we celebrate that death has been conquered.

Then, during Ordinary Time, we learn something that is often overlooked: holiness is found in ordinary days.

The word “ordinary” doesn’t mean unimportant. It comes from the word ordinal, referring to the numbered weeks of the Church’s calendar. Yet there is something beautifully fitting about the name. Most of our lives are lived in ordinary moments.

Most of us won’t experience dramatic miracles every day.

Instead, we wake early to prepare breakfast, drive children to school, fold another basket of laundry, answer emails, wash dishes, tend the garden, care for aging parents, comfort a hurting friend, or quietly pray before bed.

These moments may seem small, but they are precisely where God meets us.

The saints understood this well.

St. Thérèse of Lisieux became known for her “Little Way,” teaching that great holiness is found in doing small things with great love.

St. Teresa of Calcutta reminded us, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

Even Our Blessed Mother spent far more years living hidden, ordinary days in Nazareth than she did witnessing public miracles. She cooked meals, swept floors, mended clothing, and cared for her family. Her hidden life reminds us that faithfulness in the unseen moments is precious in the eyes of God.

Our homes can become places of quiet sanctification.

The dinner table becomes an altar of gratitude when we pause to thank God before we eat.

The family room becomes a place of charity when we choose patience over frustration.

The kitchen becomes a place of service when meals are prepared with love instead of obligation.

The laundry room becomes a place of humility when we quietly care for the needs of those entrusted to us.

None of these tasks are glamorous.

Yet every one of them can become an offering.

The liturgical year teaches us that God enters every season of our lives. There are seasons of waiting, seasons of celebration, seasons of sorrow, and long stretches of ordinary faithfulness. Every season has something to teach us because every season belongs to Christ.

Perhaps today feels wonderfully ordinary.

If so, give thanks.

Those quiet days are often where God is doing His deepest work within us.

As St. Paul reminds us:

“Whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.” (Colossians 3:17)

May we learn to recognize Christ not only in the great feast days of the Church, but also in the ordinary Tuesdays, the simple family dinners, and the hidden acts of love that make a house into a holy home.

Those ordinary moments are where saints are made.

From My Grace Filled Lemons Heart to Yours,

Laura