How Would You Like Our Father, Son, Holy Spirit, our Blessed Mother Mary and All the Angels and Saints to Rejoice for You? Wouldn't that be a great Christmas gift to you?

Some questions do not merely request an answer but invite a new direction, a gentle turning of the heart toward something deeper, holier, more life-giving.

This blog post's question is one of those.

It comes not to burden you, but to stir hope and possibility within you.

How would you like Our Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, our Blessed Mother Mary, and all the angels and saints to rejoice for you?

Pause for a moment and truly imagine the meaning of that question. Imagine heavenly joy rising because of you!

The 24/7 Catholic Monthly - With A FREE Gift - 1st December 2025 – Advent: Watching, Waiting, Hoping

Welcome to the December edition of The 24/7 Catholic Monthly... with a free gift!

The shops may be in full Christmas mode, but the Church offers something deeper, quieter, holier: Advent, a sacred time of longing, preparation, and hope.

This is not yet Christmas - it is the season to watch and wait. We recall the ancient people of Israel, yearning for the Messiah. We prepare our hearts to welcome Christ not only as a baby in Bethlehem, but also as King of glory at the end of time.

Am I the only one who struggles with 1 Corinthians 10:13?

Have we ever read Saint Paul's famous words about God never allowing us to be tempted beyond our strength...

... and quietly wondered if the verse was written for someone holier, braver, or far more put together than us? 

If so, we're in very good company.

We Crave To Meet Our Lord Face To Face

There is a longing within every Christian soul that words rarely manage to capture. It is the deep, aching desire to meet Our Lord face to face. 

We imagine that moment when the veil is lifted and we finally see the One who made us, the One who loved us into existence, the One who carried us through every hardship. 

That desire is written into us because God Himself placed it there. When we feel the tug of heaven, it is the tug of home. We know that heaven is where we belong because heaven is where He is.

Although this encounter in its fullness is reserved for eternity, there are moments even now when we draw astonishingly close to Him, closer than we allow ourselves to grasp. These moments are not only spiritual but profoundly physical, because the God who took flesh in Bethlehem still gives Himself in flesh and blood. 

An easy prayer to remember...

 
"Almighty God of grace and light,
please bless (name here or description of person) and hold them tight. 
Grant them peace along their ways
and keep them safe both nights and days.

A prayer that can help us to pray unceasingly? Well, maybe.

When we read the Scriptures, one of the commands that often makes us pause is St Paul's exhortation to the Thessalonians: "Pray constantly" (1 Thessalonians 5:17, RSV-CE). The words are simple — but the challenge is great. How can we possibly pray without ceasing when life is full of work, family, obligations, and interruptions?

The saints across the centuries have taught us that unceasing prayer is not necessarily about being on our knees every second of the day. It is more about cultivating a spirit of prayer — a readiness of heart that continually turns to God. St Augustine put it beautifully when he said, "Your desire is your prayer; if your desire continues, your prayer continues." Prayer, then, is more than words. It is the lifting up of the heart to God.

But sometimes we need words — and simple words at that. In our weakness, our minds wander and our hearts grow distracted. A small, memorable prayer can become like a companion that helps us stay attuned to God's presence in the midst of daily life.

Here's an easy prayer; simple and yet profound:

Green dinosaurs wearing Santa hats but not a crib in sight - A reflection on the true meaning of Christmas

It was supposed to be a simple, cheerful visit to a local well-known garden centre. You know the kind — enormous, bustling, and bursting with Christmas spirit even before the first frosts have properly set in. 

Rows upon rows of glittering baubles, dancing reindeer, and tinsel that sparkles under soft festive lighting. The familiar scent of pine mingles with mulled spice candles, and for a moment you can almost hear the faint echo of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” in the air. 

But as I wandered deeper into the displays, something began to dawn on me — a quiet, unsettling realisation.

Among the mountains of merchandise and mechanical snowmen, there was not a single crib. Not one.