Listen to this episode here
I want to begin sharing my blog posts a little differently, using the episodes I record with my special guests as a starting point for these reflections. Every single one of them profoundly touches my heart, and I learn something new every time. Whether it’s something that helps me grow spiritually, become a better mama, strengthen my faith, or recognize an area of my life that needs some work, each conversation is edifying. There is always something I carry with me afterward.
That desire to know God more deeply takes me back to 2014, when I first became part of our Spanish-speaking prayer community. It was through that community that I met Jocelyn in Boston.
With this episode in particular, as I was editing, I started noticing how many different aspects of life we touched on. It made me look back on my own life and reflect on something that has been on my heart for a long time.
I strongly believe that when we have
a true, authentic encounter with Jesus
—an encounter with the Holy Trinity
that transforms our lives and draws us deeper
into our Catholic faith —
we have a responsibility to share it.
Regardless of who we are,
where we are, what we do, or what season of life we are in,
we have a testimony to give.
A testimony that God is alive. That He loves us. That we are His beloved children, and that our identity lies in Him, not in anything or anyone else.
And I believe that testimony has a place in our everyday lives: in our homes, in motherhood, in our conversations, and in the way we love the people God has placed before us. When we have experienced His love so personally, how can we keep it all to ourselves? I met Jocelyn in Boston through our Spanish-speaking prayer community. I first became part of this community of faith in 2014. I was a young adult, still living with my mom and my sister, and of course, there was still so much growing for me to do. A lot happened during that retreat, but one thing I remember was this yearning for more of God’s presence. We started traveling to Boston for the retreats they held there, and it was a completely different experience from what I had ever known in my life. The atmosphere, the cultures, the language, the way everyone came together—everything felt different. I did go with an open heart, to receive everything and anything God wanted to give me.
There were people from Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Brazil, El Salvador, and other places. It was a community so rich in cultures, and I feel like being together in a space like that truly gives you another perspective on life. You’re no longer in your little bubble. You begin noticing how others worship, how boldly they share their faith, and how comfortable they are expressing their love for God. There was such strength in the way they adored and worshipped Him within our Catholic faith, and it was so beautiful to witness, for someone that had absolutely no clue about how rich the Catholic faith could be.
Up until then, my experience in my own town had been limited. I had been feeling clueless and disappointed, like my faith had become something that wasn’t really existent. I was yearning for something that would motivate me, push me, and challenge me toward more. More holiness. More of what God the Father calls us to strive for. Because, in the end, we want to go to Heaven. That is something I always want to keep in my heart.
As I listened to Jocelyn and reflected on our conversation, something stayed with me—how many of us enter motherhood carrying voids and one trend in particular, now having many guest speakers is the void of a loving father on earth
That community is where I met Jocelyn, and years later, I was so happy and grateful that she was excited to come on my podcast. I truly appreciate her openness and her willingness to be vulnerable and share so many aspects of her life with us. Among the many things we spoke about, one stood out to me. It’s something I’ve noticed many of us women of God carry as we navigate this season of motherhood: the void of growing up without a father, or without the love and presence we needed from an earthly father. Then when a new season like motherhood comes along, it can bring a deeper awareness of that void. We begin recognizing those moments in our own childhood when we deeply needed a father’s love. There was such a thirst in our hearts, in our souls. We were crying out for that love—for a father to see us, hold us, protect us, and remind us that we were loved. And every experience is different and I want to honor the fathers that we had, because of them we also are here today. Some of our fathers didn’t know about God’s love themselves, so how could they have known to share that with their own?
And for one reason or another, we didn’t experience that love as fully as we needed to. It can also be difficult to recognize the love of God the Father when that tenderness and presence were missing from our relationship with our earthly fathers. His love was always there, but being so little we didn’t yet know how to recognize it or receive it.
For Jocelyn, that longing is part of her own story. In this episode, she graciously shares about her relationship with her dad, how she wasn’t raised by him, and how, years later, he passed away. And as we spoke, we also recognized God’s goodness—what we call in Spanish la bondad de Dios.
La bondad de Dios means God’s goodness.
Our conversation also brought us into those early days of motherhood, when we’re learning to care for our babies while needing so much care ourselves. Jocelyn shared how difficult and isolating that season was with a baby who had colic.
She shared how isolating it felt and how the experience left her a little traumatized. As she described it, the crying didn’t really ease until her daughter began communicating and expressing what she needed.
As she spoke, I found myself remembering those first months with my own firstborn. Our struggles were different, but I recognized that feeling of motherhood being so much harder than I had imagined. Everything felt so challenging. I had a very low milk supply, and that was heartbreaking for me. I experienced postpartum depression during that season, and the struggle with breastfeeding was a big part of my sadness.
I think many of us enter motherhood with an idea of what life with our newborn will look like. We have hopes and expectations. We envision holding our babies, nursing them, and being able to give them everything they need. And then, sometimes, our experience looks very different from what we imagined. But there is good in everything, even in the midst of sorrow.
When I wasn’t able to exclusively breastfeed, especially with my firstborn, I cried all the time. Something I had deeply wanted wasn’t happening the way I had hoped, and it was hard to accept. But I also feel that God can heal parts of our hearts through those hardships. In those moments, I was learning to be humble, to receive help, and to recognize that I couldn’t control everything. I had to trust that He was holding me through something I didn’t understand.
Looking back now, after three births, I can see things I couldn’t see when I was in the middle of that heartbreak. I can recognize the ways God was meeting me there and helping me grow in areas I needed to refine in my heart. There was perspective, maturity, and flexibility—something we don’t always realize we need until life asks of us. As new mamas, we are learning so much while trying to give our children the love and care they need. And part of that is sharing our faith with them, helping them recognize the love of the Father, and revealing little by little who God is.
I want my children to know that I am their mama, and I love them deeply, but I will fall short. I will make mistakes. I will disappoint them at times. And still, there is a Father in Heaven whose love is perfect and unconditional. There is also our Mama Mary, who loves them and draws them closer to her Son.
Sometimes, in the middle of everything, we lose sight of that. I know I do. But each time we fall, we have another opportunity to turn back to Him and remember that God the Father has us in His hands, even in the moments when we feel like we’re barely keeping afloat.
And that brings me back to the love of the Father—the love we have longed for ourselves and the love we hope our children will come to know through us. If there is something I hope you carry from this conversation, it is that you are not alone. To every mama, to every young woman moving forward with hopes and determination, and to anyone who feels like they have lost hope: please remember whose child you are. Your identity rests in the Father. You are His beloved child, and through Him, we have the hope of inheriting the promised land of eternal life. Heaven is our home, and even in the hardest seasons, I pray we never lose sight of that. I will keep repeating this FACT over and over again.
As we enter November and celebrate All Saints, I’m reminded that we are part of a family of faith that reaches beyond what we can see. The saints intercede for us and remind us that holiness is possible in ordinary, human lives. We also remember and pray for our departed loved ones, holding them close in prayer and trusting in God’s mercy.
On All Saints’ Day, November 1, 2000, Saint John Paul II said,
“Today’s feast reminds us that we were made for heaven.”
What a beautiful truth to carry into this month. (vatican.va)
We are human. We get tired, we struggle, and we fall short. But each one of us has a mission here on earth. We are not all going to serve in the same way or live the same story. Some days, that mission may look like caring for a crying baby, listening to someone who needs us, or choosing to begin again with faith. Those moments matter, too. This episode helped me remember that I’m not the only one. And whatever you may be carrying today, I hope it helps you feel less alone, too. We are in this together, learning how to love, how to heal, and how to keep turning toward the Father.
Jocelyn, thank you again for your willingness to share your heart with us. I’m so grateful for your openness and the trust you gave me when this podcast was just beginning. Almost a year has passed since we recorded, and you have since welcomed a new baby! It brings me so much joy to finally share this conversation.
And to everyone who has patiently waited for these episodes, thank you from the bottom of my heart. We now have a new audio system that is helping me move through the work more quickly, and I’m grateful to keep bringing these conversations to you.
I ask for the intercession of Our Lady of La Leche, the patroness of our podcast. Mama Mary, pray for us, nourish our hope, and help us remain united to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Help us remember that we are loved, that we belong to Him, and that we do not walk this journey alone.
Thank you for being here, and until next time.
