Author: Sarah Whitfield

Think about the teacher who changed something in you. Maybe they were the first person who made you feel like your ideas mattered. Maybe they were the one who saw something in you before you saw it in yourself. Maybe they were the teacher you needed during the hardest year — the one who stayed patient when patience was expensive, who explained things again without making you feel small, who pushed you harder than you wanted to be pushed because they believed you could go further than you thought. Most of us have at least one. And most of us…

You wake up one morning and the feeling hits you before the alarm even stops. Too much. Too loud. Too full. The calendar is packed, the phone never stops, the to-do list is longer than the day, and somewhere in the middle of all of it you realize that this — all of this — is not actually what you wanted. You wanted something quieter. Something that felt like yours. Something with more breathing room and fewer obligations that drain you. You want to live simply. But you cannot quite find the words that say it the way you feel…

Every morning, you pick up your phone. You want to send something meaningful to a friend who is going through a hard time. Or maybe you want to bless your family before the day gets busy. But when you start typing, the words feel flat. “Good morning, God bless you” has been sent a hundred times. It does not feel like enough. You want something that carries real faith. Something that makes the other person stop, breathe, and feel genuinely encouraged. That gap between what you feel in your heart and what you can find on your screen — that…

Today is your birthday. And before the messages start coming in, before the cake is cut, before the day gets loud with celebration or quiet with whatever complicated feelings birthdays sometimes carry — you want to pause. You want to bring this moment to God. Not the performance of a birthday, not the social media version — but the real one. The one that knows how much the past year held, what it cost, what it gave, and what is still unfinished. The one that stands at the beginning of a new year of life and wants more than wishes…

You are awake. The clock says 3 AM. The house is completely still. Everyone else is asleep. And something pulled you out of sleep — or kept you from returning to it — and here you are. In the dark. With your phone. Wondering if this means something. I have spent years studying biblical prayer traditions, night watch practices across Christian history, and the theology of what it means to be awake when the rest of the world is not. And what I know is this: whatever brought you to 3 AM — whether it was God, anxiety, grief, spiritual…

The ceremony is about to begin. The guests have found their seats. The flowers are arranged. The music has softened. And before a single vow is spoken, before the rings are exchanged, before any of the visible beauty of the day unfolds — someone steps forward and opens their mouth and invites God into the room. In that moment, everything shifts. The celebration that was already joyful becomes sacred. The love that brought everyone together becomes something more than feeling — it becomes covenant. And the opening prayer is what makes that shift possible. I have spent years studying marriage…

You built something real. You invested money you could not afford to lose, time you could not get back, and faith you are still trying to hold onto. You have a product or a service that genuinely helps people. You know your business has value. And yet the customers are not coming the way you need them to — or they were, and then something shifted, and now you are staring at a quiet phone and a slow month wondering what to do next. I have spent years studying the intersection of faith and business — the theology of God’s…

You know the feeling. The pipeline looks good on paper. The product is solid. The offer is fair. But the sales are not closing the way they should. The end of the month is coming and the numbers are not where they need to be. Or you have a big meeting tomorrow — a pitch that could change the trajectory of everything — and you know that skill and preparation alone are not going to be enough. You need an edge that strategy cannot produce. You need what only God can give. I have spent years studying the theology of…

There is a particular kind of faith that does not wait for conditions to be favorable. It finds a way forward when every door appears closed. When Arnold Janssen — a German priest with a vision for a missionary training house — was refused support by every bishop in Germany, he crossed into the Netherlands and founded his mission in a rented house in the small village of Steyl. When the Society of the Divine Word had only a handful of members and no money, he published a magazine that would eventually reach half the world. When people told him…

Illness arrives without asking permission. It enters the body of someone you love and suddenly everything — every plan, every assumption about tomorrow, every ordinary Tuesday — becomes uncertain. And in that uncertainty, you reach for something beyond what medicine alone can offer. You reach for the sacred. You reach for the intercession of the one whom God sent specifically for healing — the archangel whose very name means “God heals.” I have spent years studying Catholic devotional tradition and the theology of angelic intercession. What I know is this: St. Raphael the Archangel is not a minor figure in…