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Reflections of Family and Faith
"The family that prays together stays together." - Venerable Patrick Peyton
Faith Reflection | Hope-2025 | Jubilee of Hope | power of prayer
When Pope Francis declared the 2025 Jubilee Year of Hope, I read his papal bull, Spes Non Confudit, which means “Hope does not disappoint.” I highly encourage you to read Pope Francis’ writing on this, as well as any letters written by a pope when they declare something special for a particular year. As Pope Francis, our shepherd, cared for his flock, he recognized the need for renewed hope. We read in Scripture that hope does not disappoint (Romans 5:5), but what does that mean for people who feel hopeless, marriages that are hanging on by a thread, people in stage IV cancer, countries torn apart by war, or political parties constantly at each other’s throats? Life seems hopeless at times. Pope Francis was not writing about a hope we already have. He was drawing our attention to the need for renewed hope. Hope is not simply the virtue slipped in between faith and love. It has a particular purpose. The Holy Father wrote that the daughter of hope is “patience” (Spes Non Confundit). In the same way a mother produces sons and daughters, the offspring of a life of hope is growth in the virtue of patience. Yet technology is constantly working toward eliminating our practice of patience.
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Faith Reflection | Hope-2025 | Jubilee of Hope | power of prayer
Christian hope, to me, means placing all my trust for my future in God’s promises, even when my answered prayers come with a side of thorns. I learned this the hard way one summer afternoon in a friend’s backyard, chasing a birdie with all the enthusiasm of an Olympic athlete—minus the grace. My foot slipped, and I crashed spectacularly into her mother’s prized rosebush. While my friend stifled laughter, I looked toward heaven with a sigh and a sarcastic, “Seriously, God?” Five days before, I began a prayer to Saint Thérèse of Lisieux for three special intentions. Three things I thought at the age of fifteen would make my life complete: a boyfriend, a job, and a car. The holy trifecta of early adulthood. It all started a few weeks earlier. During a conversation with my mother, I was lamenting my lack of all three. Her advice was surprisingly simple: “Why don’t you pray for them? It couldn’t hurt.” This was coming from a woman I had never seen pray. We were, at best, Christmas-and-Easter Catholics. My memory of prayer with my family when I was growing up was an occasional, “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep,” or a Rosary during thunderstorms. But desperate times call for divine interventions, so I decided to try.
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