Laid gently on linen, this simple palm reminds me—sometimes surrender is the most sacred thing we can offer. Even here, Hosanna.
This week has stretched me in more ways than I expected. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually. It’s been one of those weeks that leaves you quiet—not because there’s nothing to say, but because the noise of life has already said so much.
But this morning, I went to Mass. And everything slowed down.
Palm Sunday doesn’t enter with fanfare—it enters with a procession of palms and the shadow of a cross. It holds both the “Hosanna!” and the heartbreak. The joy of the crowd and the ache of what’s to come.
Maybe that’s the kind of holy I needed today.
Not the kind that demands energy I don’t have. Not the kind that expects me to have it all together. But the kind that meets me in the middle of my mess. The kind that walks beside me through the hard and the holy, just like Jesus did.
Holy Week begins here. Not with perfection. But with presence.
Wherever you are—tired, stretched, uncertain, or full of hope—there’s room for you on this path. Even if you feel like you’re arriving empty-handed.
Today, I’m laying down my palms not as a celebration of my strength—but as a surrender. A whispered Hosanna that says, “Even here, I trust You.”
In the quiet of the in-between, we find Him—steadfast, present, and full of mercy.
We’re not quite there yet. Not at Palm Sunday. Not at the foot of the cross. Not at the empty tomb.
We’re in the in-between.
That tender stretch of Lent where we start to feel the weight of what’s coming—the quiet ache of the cross, the whisper of redemption, the longing for resurrection… but not yet.
A Sacred Pause Before Holy Week
This season has stretched me in quiet ways. Not with dramatic moments, but with gentle invitations:
Let go. Slow down. Come closer.
That’s the heart of Lent, isn’t it? Not just sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice—but surrender that softens us. That opens our hands. That points us back to Jesus.
Jesus Walked Through the In-Between, Too
This week, I’m reminded that even Jesus walked through the in-between. He didn’t rush to the Resurrection. He moved with purpose—through pain, through prayer, through silence.
And so can we.
An Invitation to Stay Present
As we prepare to enter Holy Week, maybe the invitation is simply this:
To stay present. To keep showing up. To keep our hearts open, even when it’s hard.
We know what’s coming. We know Sunday is on the way. But we also know that every step of this journey matters.
This Week’s Prayer
Lord, In this in-between space, help me not to rush past the quiet work You’re doing. Soften my heart. Steady my spirit. And prepare me to walk into Holy Week with reverence and love. Amen.
Sometimes we wake up on Monday ready to take on the world—list made, coffee brewed, heart steady. Other times, we open our eyes with a quiet sigh, already feeling a step behind. Life is like that—fluid, unpredictable, human.
But here’s a tender reminder: You don’t have to start from your best self today. You just have to start where your feet are.
Maybe you’re still holding the weight of last week. Maybe you’re a little worn, or feeling like you’ve lost your spark. You are still worthy of a fresh beginning.
Begin simply. Begin kindly. Begin with what’s right in front of you. Here are three gentle ways to ease into the week with grace:
Ground Yourself in the Moment Take five minutes—just five—to sit quietly, hands wrapped around your coffee mug or resting in your lap. Breathe deeply. Notice what’s around you. The birdsong, the soft light, even the clutter—it’s part of your beautiful, imperfect life.
Choose One Thing, Not All the Things Instead of trying to tackle everything, choose one task or intention for the day. Maybe it’s prepping dinner early, taking a short walk, or responding to that one email that’s been lingering. Let that one thing anchor you, not overwhelm you.
Speak Softly to Yourself Would you speak to a friend the way you speak to yourself on hard days? Be mindful of your inner tone. A kind word—even in thought—can change the direction of your day.
And if none of those suggestions feel right today, maybe you just need to let the world be quiet for a moment. That’s okay too.
You are not behind. You are not broken. You are simply walking the path—and some steps are slower, softer, more sacred than others.
So start where your feet are. Let this be enough. Grace walks with you.
At Mass recently, Father spoke on a passage from the Gospel of Luke:
“Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?” (Luke 6:41)
His words stayed with me long after I left church. He spoke about how easy it is to become frustrated with others—at their choices, their words, their actions—while failing to recognize the areas in our own hearts that need attention. It’s far simpler to point out someone else’s faults than to sit with the quiet work of tending to our own.
I’ve certainly found myself there. Maybe you have, too.
Perhaps it’s snapping at someone in a moment of stress, not because of what they did, but because of something unsettled within me. Or feeling frustration rise when someone falls short of expectations, while I fail to see where I need patience and grace in my own life.
Lent is a season of reflection, and this passage invites us to turn inward—not with shame or self-criticism, but with an open heart. Instead of dwelling on the faults of others, we can ask ourselves:
What is clouding my own vision? Maybe it’s resentment, impatience, or a heart that’s weary and in need of rest.
Am I carrying something heavy that needs my attention? Before reacting outwardly, we can pause and tend to our own spirit.
How can I respond with love? When we notice our first instinct is to correct or critique, we can shift toward kindness instead.
This doesn’t mean we ignore truth or pretend problems don’t exist. But it does mean that when we respond to others, we do so from a place of clarity rather than frustration, with love rather than judgment.
May we each take time to tend to our own hearts first—so that when we reach out to others, it is with gentleness, understanding, and the kind of love that truly reflects Christ.
In the stillness, He speaks. In the surrender, He draws near. Prayer isn’t just words—it’s a heart resting in His presence.
I always prayed.
Even when I wasn’t attending Mass regularly, my faith remained strong. My prayers never stopped. As a teacher in a Catholic school, I attended Mass weekly with my students, but those were shorter, child-focused services—beautiful in their own way, yet not the same as fully immersing myself in the rhythm of the Church. I told myself I was fine. That I was still connected, still faithful, still walking the path.
A close friend gently encouraged me to start attending Mass again. We had many conversations about it, and I often said, I know I will… someday. I wasn’t resistant, just not quite ready. But then one day, I simply went. No grand moment, no big decision—just a quiet step back through the doors.
And everything changed.
It wasn’t just about attending—it was about returning.
At first, it was subtle. A shift. A stirring. A feeling that this was something I needed, not something I was simply doing. I found myself looking forward to Saturday Mass, not as an obligation but as a longing. It became part of my week, a moment of stillness and surrender. I started planning my time around Mass rather than squeezing it in. And when I knew I was going to have to miss, I didn’t like it. Something felt off, as though I was missing an essential part of my soul’s rhythm.
I can’t quite explain it, except to say that it’s a closeness. A deep, quiet knowing.
There is something about being in His house, about sitting in the stillness, about receiving the Eucharist and being surrounded by the prayers of a gathered people. It reaches beyond words, beyond obligation, beyond habit. It’s a return—not just to the physical place of the church, but to a deeper, more intimate connection with Christ.
Now, Mass is not just something I attend; it’s something I cherish. And sharing this time with my dear friend makes it even sweeter—a reminder of how God places the right people in our lives to guide and encourage us.
I always prayed. But now, I am with Him in a way I didn’t even realize I was missing.
It’s a matter of the heart.
If you’ve ever felt the same—if you’ve stepped away, if you’ve told yourself it’s fine because you still believe—I want to gently remind you that there is something waiting for you in His presence. There is a closeness that no amount of personal prayer can quite replace.
Come back. Not because you have to, but because you get to.
Mornings at Birdsong Cottage begin before the sun, wrapped in stillness and quiet routine. The dogs wake first, eager and insistent, ready to start the day without delay. There’s no time to linger—they want out now. So, as the coffee brews in the kitchen, we step outside into the dark morning.
The world is hushed, still resting in the last moments of night. The air is cool, the only sounds are the padding of paws and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures. It’s a peaceful beginning, a brief moment of quiet before the day truly begins.
Back inside, breakfast comes first for the dogs—bowls filled, tails wagging, a well-earned treat before they settle in. Then, finally, my first sip of coffee. It’s never rushed. I take 10 to 15 minutes to simply be still, to savor the warmth and let the world wake up slowly around me.
Before I get ready, I make my bed—an intentional habit I’ve begun that brings a small sense of order to the day before it even starts. There’s something about walking into a room at the end of the day and seeing it tidy, welcoming, ready for rest.
Soft classical music plays as I move through the morning, getting ready for the day ahead. If I’ve prepped my lunch the night before, I’m grateful for the extra ease. If I haven’t, I do my best to throw something together quickly. Either way, one thing remains the same—I always pour a second cup of coffee into my large to-go container, a staple that carries me into the day.
The Rhythm of the Day
As I step outside, the world is slowly waking. The birds are already at the feeder, singing their morning songs, unseen but ever present. I always greet them with a quiet “Good morning, birdie bird,” a simple exchange that feels like a blessing on the day ahead.
The school day unfolds in its familiar rhythm—lessons taught, moments of chaos mixed with moments of joy. There are the usual tasks, but also the unexpected laughter, the small victories, the quiet reminders of why I love what I do.
Evenings are often busy, filled with chauffeuring Skyler to school events, games, or activities. But I try to create space for myself, too. Some days, I work on Birdsong & Blessings, shaping words and ideas. Other days, I focus on the home, tidying one small space to keep things from feeling overwhelming. One habit I never skip? Ensuring the kitchen is cleaned before it “closes” for the night—there’s a certain peace in knowing everything is reset for the next day.
I’ve also been working to incorporate intentional movement into my routine a few times a week. It’s not about pushing myself too hard, but about honoring my body, whether through a gentle walk, stretching, or something more active. It’s a practice I’m still building, but one that’s beginning to feel more natural.
Slowing Down & Letting Go
On nights when time allows, I slip outside to the swing by the pool, letting the gentle sway and the evening sounds settle over me. If the weather is kind, it’s one of my favorite places to be. The movement soothes me, the night air wraps around me, and for a few moments, I simply breathe.
Prayer is woven throughout my day—not just at set times, but in quiet moments between the rush, in whispered thoughts before my feet hit the ground, in gratitude before I drift to sleep. Some nights, I unwind with a bit of TV, but not always. There are stretches of days when it never even gets turned on, and I find I don’t miss it.
And then, the day winds down. The house settles, the lights dim, and I offer one last quiet prayer before sleep. Another day at Birdsong Cottage comes to a gentle close, and tomorrow will begin again—with morning light, coffee, and the sweet songs of the birds, already waiting to be greeted.
Simple Daily Rhythms to Bring More Peace Into Your Life
If you’re looking to add more peace and intention to your days, here are a few small habits that have made a difference for me:
Start your morning with stillness. Whether it’s sipping coffee in silence, reading a short devotion, or simply breathing deeply, a quiet beginning can set the tone for the day.
Make your bed every morning. It’s a small act, but it brings a sense of order and accomplishment before the day even begins.
Find a daily ritual that brings you joy. Maybe it’s lighting a candle, writing a gratitude list, or taking a morning walk. Small joys matter.
End your day with a reset. Cleaning the kitchen before bed gives a sense of closure to the day and makes mornings smoother. Choose one area of your home to keep consistently tidy.
Incorporate gentle movement. Whether it’s stretching, a short walk, or deep breathing, movement can bring energy and clarity to your day.
Pause for small joys. Notice the birdsong, the warmth of the sun, the way your favorite tea tastes. Life is made up of these moments.
The beauty of a daily rhythm isn’t in perfection—it’s in the gentle flow, the way small habits shape our days and bring a sense of peace. Start where you are, and let the rhythm unfold naturally.
There’s something special about embracing the rhythm of simple joys—books that inspire, small routines that bring comfort, and little luxuries that make everyday life feel a bit more special. This week, I’m gathering moments of grace that have added beauty, warmth, and a touch of sweetness to my days.
To Read & Enjoy
For Learning & Growth
Lessons from Madame Chicby Jennifer L. Scott – A timeless guide to embracing elegance, simplicity, and intentional living. A personal favorite.
On-Screen Cozy Mysteries For a comforting mystery on screen, Father Brown and Miss Marple on Acorn or BritBox are always a recommendation—suspenseful yet charming, without anything dark or disturbing.
A Simple Recipe for Busy Moms
Creamy Tuscan Chicken (with leftovers)
This one-pan meal is rich, flavorful, and perfect for meal prepping.
Ingredients
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 ½ cups fresh spinach
1 cup heavy cream (or half-and-half for a lighter version)
½ cup grated Parmesan
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
Salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Season chicken with salt, pepper, and Italian seasoning. Cook until golden brown on both sides and fully cooked (about six to seven minutes per side). Remove and set aside.
In the same skillet, sauté garlic for 30 seconds, then add cherry tomatoes and cook until softened.
Stir in the spinach, letting it wilt, then pour in the cream and Parmesan. Let it simmer for a few minutes until thickened.
Return the chicken to the pan, coating it in the creamy sauce. Let it warm through, then serve over rice or pasta.
Leftover Tip: Save extra sauce separately to toss with fresh pasta or use as a base for a quick soup the next day.
An Iced Coffee Treat
Simple Iced Coffee Recipe
Lately, I’ve been loving this easy afternoon iced coffee. It’s smooth, refreshing, and just sweet enough.
How I Make It
Leftover coffee from the morning, poured into a glass
One tablespoon pure maple syrup (adjust to taste)
A splash of heavy whipping cream—or whip the cream lightly for a delicious foam topping
A simple joy that makes an ordinary afternoon feel like a treat.
Budgeting & Financial Grace
Cash Envelopes & Sinking Funds – Yay or Nay?
I’ve been thinking more about budgeting intentionally, and sinking funds have been a game-changer—setting aside small amounts ahead of time for things like gifts, car maintenance, or even fun experiences (because joy matters, too).
Cash envelopes? I love the idea for mindful spending, but I also appreciate digital tracking. Maybe a mix of both is the sweet spot.
Are you team cash envelope, or do you prefer a different budgeting method?
At-Home Manicure Love
A Little Self-Care Ritual
I’ve always loved a fresh manicure, but lately, I’ve found so much joy in doing my nails at home. It’s a simple ritual that feels both relaxing and rewarding.
Current Favorites
Londontown– Strengthening formula with beautiful shades
Olive & June – Easy application and a long-lasting topcoat
Manucurist – A clean, non-toxic brand with gorgeous colors
A fresh manicure, whether at home or in the salon, is such a small thing, but it truly lifts the spirit.
Cherished Coffee Table: My great-grandmother’s old cedar chest serves as my coffee table, adding history and warmth to my home. A rattan serving tray keeps everything tidy and beautiful.
To Reflect & Journal
How can I bring more beauty into my daily routines?
What’s one small way I can simplify my spending while still enjoying life?
As we step into the weekend, may we find grace in simplicity, joy in small luxuries, and peace in the routines that make life feel like home.
There’s something about spring that feels like a gentle exhale—an invitation to slow down and notice the world awakening. The light lingers a little longer in the evenings, the air carries the scent of blossoms, and even the smallest moments feel touched by renewal.
This weekend, I welcomed spring in a way that felt just right—not grand or elaborate, but simple, joyful, and quietly meaningful. A fresh bouquet on the table, a small herb garden taking root, the bird feeder filled once again, and outside my kitchen window, a bluebird family tending to their babies—a scene so sweet it makes me pause every morning, coffee in hand, just to watch.
There is no rush in spring, no urgency. Just the gentle unfolding of life, a whisper that even the smallest refresh—inside or out—can bring new energy to our days.
A Breath of Spring, Indoors
Bringing spring into the home doesn’t require a full reset. Sometimes, the smallest shifts can make the greatest impact:
Fresh Flowers – The easiest way to infuse a space with life. This weekend, I refreshed the blooms in my home, adding soft, springtime hues that instantly lifted the space. It’s a small joy, but one that greets me each morning.
Airy, Light Touches – I find that opening the windows, letting the breeze in, and even switching out small details—a linen napkin, a delicate teacup—makes a space feel lighter, fresher, alive with the season.
A Scent of the Outdoors – Whether it’s a soft floral candle, a citrusy essential oil blend, or simply the fresh scent of cut herbs in the kitchen, fragrance has a way of shifting a mood.
It isn’t about decorating for spring, but rather creating an environment that mirrors how the season feels—light, soft, full of possibility.
Stepping Outside: A Gentle Awakening
Just beyond the windows, spring is unfolding in its quiet, unassuming way. This weekend, I planted an herb garden, tucking small shoots of green into the soil with the hope that, in time, they will offer a fresh harvest for simple meals. There is something grounding about growing things—watching life take shape from something so small.
At the Birdsong Café (as I lovingly call my bird feeder), a steady stream of visitors has returned, feathers ruffling in the spring breeze. And just outside my kitchen window, a bluebird family has made their home. Watching them care for their babies is the sweetest reminder of how tender and beautiful this season truly is.
These small outdoor joys—watching, tending, noticing—are spring’s way of inviting us to pause. To slow our steps, breathe deeply, and savor the world reawakening around us.
A Season of Gentle Renewal
Spring doesn’t ask us to rush or reinvent ourselves. It simply encourages us to notice—to open a window, plant something small, add a touch of beauty.
Perhaps this week, you’ll bring home a small bouquet or take your morning coffee outside. Maybe you’ll step into the sunshine for just a moment longer or breathe in the scent of fresh air after the rain. Whatever it is, let it be simple, let it be joyful, let it be yours.
How do you welcome spring into your home and heart?
It’s easy to think of life in terms of milestones—the big days, the grand adventures, the moments that take our breath away. But in between those moments, in the quiet spaces of everyday life, there is a different kind of beauty. A gentler, quieter grace that whispers, this too is worth savoring.
I felt it this morning in the simplest way—standing in the kitchen, the aroma of freshly ground coffee filling the air, the comforting weight of a warm mug in my hands. Outside, the first golden light stretched across the sky, birdsong weaving through the stillness. A moment so small, so ordinary, yet so deeply good.
It made me wonder—how many of these moments pass by unnoticed? How often do we let the beauty of the ordinary slip through our fingers because we are waiting for something bigger?
Welcoming the Beauty of the Everyday
Lately, I’ve been reminding myself to slow down—not in a grand, life-changing way, but in the small, simple moments that are so easy to overlook. It’s not about doing more but about noticing more—allowing the quiet joys of life to be fully experienced instead of brushed aside.
Here are a few ways to embrace the beauty in your everyday moments:
Savor your morning ritual. Whether it’s a steaming cup of coffee, a moment of quiet before the day begins, or a handwritten prayer in your journal, allow yourself to linger in the moment. Try drinking your coffee or tea without distractions—no phone, no scrolling, just the warmth of the mug in your hands and the stillness of a fresh morning.
Truly listen to the voices you love. The simplest hello from someone dear can carry a quiet kind of comfort. Take a moment to be fully present when speaking with a loved one, whether it’s a phone call, a passing conversation, or a whispered goodnight. Maybe today, you send a thoughtful text or leave a handwritten note just because.
Pause with your pets. Feel the gentle weight of a sleepy dog curled beside you, the joyful tail wag at the door, the comfort of their quiet companionship. If you have a pet, take a few moments today to truly be present with them—whether it’s sitting outside together, taking them for a walk, or simply stroking their fur with gratitude for their unconditional love.
Step outside and take notice. Even if only for a moment, step onto your porch, feel the fresh air on your skin, listen to the birdsong, or watch the sky shift as the sun rises or sets. Take your morning coffee outside or open a window while you work—let the season’s presence be felt.
Create small pauses of beauty. Light a candle while you prepare dinner, turn on soft music as you unwind in the evening, keep fresh flowers on your table, or diffuse a scent that brings you joy. Beauty is found in the smallest of details, and when we make space for it, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
End your day with gratitude. Before bed, reflect on one small moment from the day that made you pause, smile, or feel at peace. Maybe you write it down or whisper a quiet thank you.
We don’t have to chase grand experiences to find joy. Joy is already here, woven into the ordinary moments that shape our days. When we slow down and pay attention, we realize that these moments—the simple ones—are often the most beautiful of all.
A sacred space for reflection and reconciliation, where healing and peace meet through God’s grace.
Growing up, I remember going to church with my family and experiencing confession as a child. To be honest, it felt uncomfortable. I was nervous, unsure of what was expected, and didn’t truly understand its meaning. It seemed like something I had to do rather than something I could embrace.
For years, I stayed away from the sacrament of confession—not because I didn’t believe in forgiveness, but because I had always sought it on my own, in my own way. Yet, deep down, I knew there was something missing—something I wasn’t fully receiving.
A very close and dear friend encouraged me to go. She has been such a strong advocate for me in strengthening my faith, always reminding me that God’s grace is waiting. Her words stayed with me, and I began to feel the gentle pull toward something deeper.
I’ve been growing in my faith, and even in teaching it, it has taken time for me to take this step. As I shared lessons of penance and reconciliation with my students, I started seeing it differently. The more I explained it to them, the more I felt something stir in my own heart. I wasn’t just teaching them about healing—I was being called to experience it myself.
A Step in Faith: My Experience with Confession
Recently, I finally took that step and went to confession. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I poured my heart out in that moment, I felt a weight lift—one I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.
The experience was profound. A deep peace settled over me, replacing the heaviness I had unknowingly been holding onto. It wasn’t about following a set of rules or checking off a box—it was about real connection, a moment to release what no longer served me and to find healing through God’s infinite love.
The Power of Penance and Reconciliation
Through this experience, I’ve come to realize that the sacrament of penance and reconciliation is a gift of renewal. It is an opportunity to lay down our burdens—whether guilt, shame, regret, or mistakes—and step forward with a light heart and a fresh start.
For me, confession became a path to joy, freedom, and deeper faith.
If you are Catholic and have been away from the sacrament for some time, I encourage you to prayerfully consider returning. There is no shame in waiting or in needing time to take that step—only grace in coming back.
Finding Peace in God’s Forgiveness
Even if confession is not part of your faith tradition, the longing for peace, healing, and forgiveness is something we all experience. God’s mercy is always available, and He desires to bring us closer to Him.
Perhaps you can take a moment to:
Spend time in prayer, opening your heart to God’s love.
Write in a journal, releasing burdens you’ve been carrying.
Reflect on ways to extend forgiveness—to yourself or to others.
It’s about giving yourself permission to heal, to be human, and to embrace joy—knowing that God is always there, waiting with open arms.
6 Steps Toward Reconciliation and Peace
If you’re feeling burdened or in need of a fresh start, here are some ways you can begin:
1. Find a Quiet Space
Step away from distractions and create a peaceful environment. Whether it’s a cozy corner of your home, a quiet church, or a walk in nature, allow yourself to be still and invite God’s presence into the moment.
2. Reflect on Your Heart
What are the burdens you carry? Are there past mistakes, regrets, or emotions weighing you down? Self-reflection is the first step to healing.
3. Pray or Journal
Express your heart to God. Whether through prayer or journaling, release what you’ve been holding onto. Putting your thoughts into words—spoken or written—can be incredibly freeing.
4. Seek God’s Forgiveness
If you are Catholic, consider receiving the sacrament of confession. If confession is not part of your faith practice, turn to prayer and trust that God’s mercy is always available.
5. Take a Step Forward
After releasing your burdens, take a step in faith. This doesn’t have to be a dramatic change—sometimes, it’s a small act of trust that brings us closer to inner peace.
6. Allow Yourself to Heal
Healing is a journey, not a destination. Give yourself grace and patience, knowing that God walks beside you every step of the way.
You don’t need to have all the answers. You don’t need to follow a perfect plan.
You just need to take one step—a step toward freedom, healing, and God’s unwavering love.
