The Invitation Going Forward

The past 6 weeks, for those who have followed Praying with The Psalms, have been an invitation to Come & See (John 1:39). 

 You came. You saw. You tried prayer. You brought your questions. You showed up. 

 Now the invitation is: 

Keep coming home. Not perfectly. Not without questions. Not without struggle. 

But keep entering those gates with thanksgiving. Keep recognizing you're the sheep and God is the shepherd. Keep trusting that His merciful love endures forever. 

Keep coming home to the God who's been waiting for you all along. 

Now What? 

Option 1: Keep Praying the Psalms.  There are 150 psalms. You've only scratched the surface. Pick another psalm and use the same Lectio Divina method. 

Option 2: Pray the Gospels.  Try applying Lectio Divina to the stories of Jesus. Start with the Gospel of Mark—it's short and vivid. 

Option 3: Explore the Liturgy of the Hours.  The Catholic Church prays the Psalms daily through the Liturgy of the Hours. Apps like iBreviary or Laudate make it accessible.

Option 4: Find Community Prayer can start alone, but it grows best in community. 

Consider: 

 • Visiting a local Catholic parish 

 • Attending an OCIA inquiry session (no commitment required) 

 • Joining an online Bible study or prayer group, like this one at Saintly Journeys. 

 • Finding a Spiritual Director 

 The Most Important Thing:  Don't stop praying. It doesn't have to be every day. It doesn't have to be perfect. But keep showing up. Keep seeking. Keep listening. 

Prayer is a relationship, and relationships require presence.  

"O taste and see that the LORD is good! Happy is the man who takes refuge in him!" — Psalm 34:8 

It has been an absolute blessing sharing the Psalms with you all and Meeting You Where You Are!

Week 6: Finding Gratitude

 Psalm 100 - “We Are His People, the Sheep of His Pasture" 

 Read this slowly: 

Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the lands! Serve the LORD with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the LORD is God! It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him, bless his name! For the LORD is good; his merciful love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

REFLECT (Reread it): 

 • This is a psalm of pure joy and gratitude. Even if you're beginning to pray, there are things to be grateful for. 

 • What does “make a joyful noise" mean to you? Does joy in prayer feel natural or awkward? 

 • “It is he that made us, and we are his." How does it feel to hear that you belong to God? Comforting? Strange? Hard to believe? 

 • “Enter his gates with thanksgiving." What are you genuinely grateful for right now—even in the midst of struggle?

 • This psalm was sung by people entering the Temple—coming home to worship. Where is "home" for you spiritually? Have you found it yet, or are you still searching?

RESPOND (Talk to God):

If you're feeling grateful: Tell God specifically what you're thankful for. Make a list—out loud or in your heart. Your health, family, and home. A friend who showed up when you needed them. The fact that you're here, praying, seeking. 

If you're struggling to feel grateful: That's okay. Be honest: “God, this psalm is about joy, but I don't feel joyful right now." “I want to be thankful; God can handle your honesty. Bring what you have, even if it's not overflowing gratitude. But I'm struggling. Help me see what's good." 

 If you're feeling like you don't belong: Tell Him: “The sheep imagery is nice, but I don't feel part of the flock." God meets you in that honesty, too.

Now, simply rest. 

 You don't need more words. You don't need to produce insights or feelings. Just sit in reality: 

 • You were made by God 

 • You belong to God 

 • God's merciful love endures forever 

 • God is faithful 

 Repeat quietly in your heart (or out loud): 

 "The LORD is good." 

 "His merciful love endures forever." 

 "I am his."

A Prayer for Week 6

Lord, After six weeks of seeking, questioning, listening, and learning, I come to this final psalm with whatever gratitude I can muster. 

Some days, thanksgiving flows easily. Other days, I have to search for it. 

 Help me to know—really know—that I belong. That I'm not an accident. That You made me, and I'm Yours. 

 Thank You for meeting me in these ancient words. 

Thank You for being patient with my questions. Thank You for Your merciful love that endures even when my faith wavers. 

 Teach me to make a joyful noise—imperfect, unrehearsed, but genuine. 

 Teach me to enter Your gates with thanksgiving, recognizing that gratitude is the path home. 

 And most of all, help me remember: I'm Your sheep, and You're my shepherd. 

 I don't have to find the way on my own. I just have to follow Your voice. 

 Thank You for these six weeks. Thank You for this journey. 

Thank You for meeting me here. 

 Amen

Week 3: Being Honest

Psalm 13: “How Long, O Lord?” 

 Read this slowly: 

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me for ever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God; lighten my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death; lest my enemy say, "I have prevailed over him"; lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. 

But I have trusted in your merciful love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me. 

REFLECT (Reread it):

• This psalm starts with raw, honest questions. Four times: "How long?" The psalmist is frustrated, maybe even angry. 

• Notice that the psalmist doesn't pretend to have it all together. Prayer isn't about being polite—it's about being real. 

• "How long must I bear pain in my soul?" If you've felt this, you're not alone. This is in the Bible. 

• The psalm ends with trust, but it starts with struggle. That's okay. You don't have to skip to the happy ending. 

• The struggles aren't obstacles to prayer; they're the raw material of it. Bringing your struggle to God's conversation is essential because it's the root of change and growth. When you name what's actually weighing on you—when you stop performing spiritually and start being real—you create the conditions for God to meet you where you are, not where you think you should be. You can't be transformed by a conversation you're not actually having. 

• So when you sit down with Scripture, don't sanitize your prayer. Bring the mess. God's not afraid of it. The psalm ends with trust because it started with struggle. That's where the Holy Spirit does His work.

RESPOND (Talk to God): 

 Ask God your "How long?" questions. How long will this loneliness last? How long until things get better? How long will I feel lost? Don't edit yourself. God can handle your questions. 

REST: You don't need to resolve everything. Sit with your questions. God is big enough to hold them with you.

Coming When Called: The Gospel Invitation to Follow Reflections on Mark 1:14-20

After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God: "This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel." As he passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." Then they abandoned their nets and followed him. He walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They too were in a boat mending their nets. Then he called them. So they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him. 

There's something beautifully abrupt about this gospel passage. Jesus doesn't offer a theological dissertation. He doesn't present credentials or outline a detailed ministry plan. He simply walks along the shore and says, "Come after me."

 And they come. 

Simon and Andrew drop their nets mid-cast. James and John leave their father in the boat, mending half-finished. The text gives us no record of their internal deliberations, nor any mention of weighing pros and cons. Just the call, and the response.

 This is how the kingdom breaks into ordinary life—not through our careful planning, but through divine interruption. 

Meeting People Where They Are 

Notice where Jesus finds these first disciples: at work, hands occupied with the familiar rhythms of their trade. He doesn't wait for them to come to the synagogue or complete a period of formal preparation. He meets them on the shore, among the nets and boats and fish. 

This is the heart of what we're about at Saintly Journeys. We don't wait for seekers to find their way to traditional spaces or master religious vocabulary before beginning the conversation. We meet people where they already are—scrolling through social media, searching online for meaning, wrestling with questions in the middle of ordinary life. 

Jesus's "Come and see" approach didn't require his first disciples to have it all figured out before following. They learned by walking with him, by being in relationship with him. Our ministry embraces this same spirit of invitation over interrogation, companionship over credentials. 

The Time of Fulfillment

 "This is the time of fulfillment," Jesus proclaims. Not someday. Not after you've gotten your life in order or completed your spiritual checklist. This is the time. Now is when the kingdom draws near. How many of us spend years waiting for the "right time" to respond to God's call? We tell ourselves we'll pray more deeply when life calms down, we'll explore our faith when we're less busy, we'll answer that tug toward something more when we feel more qualified.

 But Jesus's call to those fishermen reminds us: the time is now. The invitation comes in the middle of the ordinary, and it asks for an immediate response. 

That's why Saintly Journeys exists in digital spaces—because people are searching, questioning, feeling that pull toward something transcendent now. We can't wait for perfect conditions. The kingdom is at hand today, in this moment, wherever you're reading these words. 

Becoming Fishers of Men

 Jesus promises to transform these fishermen's existing skills and experiences into something new: "I will make you fishers of men." He doesn't ask them to become something completely foreign to themselves. Instead, he reorients their gifts toward a greater purpose.

 This is God's pattern with each of us. Our backgrounds, our experiences, even our questions and doubts—none of it is wasted. God takes what we already are and invites us into a larger story.

 As fellow pilgrims on this journey, we don't claim to have reached a spiritual destination. We're simply further along the path, extending the same invitation we once received: Come and see. Walk with us. Let's discover together what it means to follow. The nets can wait. The familiar can be left behind. The kingdom is breaking into your ordinary life right now.

 What is Jesus calling you to leave behind today? What might he be inviting you toward?

Is This Your Year? An Invitation to Walk Toward the Light

 

Looking at this powerful image that graces our new beginning, we see Christ reaching out His hand toward us—an eternal gesture of invitation, of welcome, of divine love beckoning us forward. His outstretched arm breaks through the luminous background, reminding us that He doesn't wait for us to find our way in the darkness. He comes to meet us, extending His hand into whatever shadows we inhabit, calling us to follow Him into the light.

A New Beginning, A Timeless Invitation

Welcome to the reimagined Saintly Journeys.

As we stand at the threshold of 2026, everything feels fresh, bright, and full of promise. You might notice something different here—a lighter, more radiant aesthetic that reflects the very heart of our mission: walking toward the Light of the World, Jesus Christ. This isn't just a visual refresh; it's a recommitment to the fundamental invitation that has echoed through two millennia of Christian witness.

Come & See: An Invitation to Discover Christ.

These simple words—lifted directly from the Gospel of John—capture everything we're about. They're the same words Jesus spoke to those first curious seekers, the fishermen who wondered who this rabbi might be. "Come and see," He said, not demanding immediate commitment, not requiring complete understanding, simply inviting them to take a step, to draw closer, to experience for themselves.

And that's precisely what we're inviting you to do here.

The Question That Changes Everything

Is this your year?

It's a question we often ask ourselves in January. Is this the year I finally get in shape? Is this the year I change careers, write that book, repair that relationship, break that habit? We stand on January 1st like travelers at a crossroads, sensing possibility, hoping for transformation, wondering if this time might be different.

But what if we asked a deeper question? What if, beneath all those perfectly valid aspirations, there's a more fundamental inquiry waiting to be voiced?

Is this the year you finally respond to Christ's outstretched hand?

Is this the year you stop circling around faith and step closer? Is this the year you move from curious observer to committed disciple? Is this the year you stop merely learning about Christ and actually encounter Him?

Look again at that image of our Lord. His hand isn't tentative or uncertain. He's not passively waiting at a distance. He's actively reaching, extending, and inviting. The light surrounds Him, emanates from Him, and He's stepping toward us with that hand outstretched, as if to say: "Here I am. I've been waiting. Will you come?"

The question isn't whether He's ready for you. He is. He always has been. The question is:

Are you ready for Him?

Come & See

John 1:35-39 (RSV 2^nd Catholic Edition)

"The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples; and he looked at Jesus as he walked, and said, 'Behold, the Lamb of God!' The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned, and saw them following, and said to them, 'What do you seek?' And they said to him, 'Rabbi' (which means Teacher), 'where are you staying?' He said to them, 'Come and see.' They came and saw where he was staying; and they stayed with him that day, for it was about the tenth hour."

Jesus could have given them a theological lecture or demanded immediate conversion. But that's not what He did.

He said to them, "Come and see."

This is the pattern of authentic faith: Come. Taste and see. Draw near. Seek. Faith isn't passive—it's a response to an invitation, a step toward the Light, a hand reaching back to grasp the hand already extended toward you.

Meeting You Where You Are

One of the things I love most about that image of Christ reaching toward us is that His hand extends into our space. He doesn't remain in some distant realm, waiting for us to make our way to Him. He comes to where we are.

Whether you're a lifelong Catholic or a convert like me seeking deeper spiritual formation or someone who's never set foot in a church but finds yourself drawn to questions of faith—you're welcome here. Your questions are honored. Your search for truth is precisely what led those first disciples to Jesus.

I'm not a theologian with letters after my name. I'm a layperson, a fellow pilgrim who has experienced Christ's love and wants to share that with others. 

As I often say, God doesn't call the qualified; He qualifies the called.

Walking Toward the Light in 2026

This new, brighter theme isn't just aesthetic. It represents a fundamental truth: we're always moving, always journeying, always being drawn forward by the Light.

Walking toward the light means making daily choices to align yourself with Christ. It means choosing virtue over vice, truth over deception, love over selfishness. It means getting up each morning and deciding, again, to follow Jesus.

It means engaging in spiritual practices that keep you oriented toward God: prayer, Scripture reading, sacramental life, and acts of charity. These aren't arbitrary religious hoops to jump through; they're the very means by which we maintain our connection to the Light.

But here's what walking toward the light doesn't mean: It doesn't mean perfection. It doesn't mean never stumbling or doubting. It doesn't mean you have to have it all figured out before you take the first step.

I stumble just like all of you. I created Saintly Journeys to remind myself of these truths, and I want to share them with all of you.

Christ's hand reaches toward us in our imperfection. He invites us to come as we are. His light doesn't expose our darkness to shame us, but to heal us.

What Awaits You

Throughout 2026, we'll offer accessible spiritual formation that meets you wherever you are and helps you and me together take the next step toward Christ. Throughout the year, I will be posting blogs and other content, reflections on the liturgical year, and practical guidance for deepening your prayer life.

The point isn't just knowledge—it's helping you respond to Christ's outstretched hand and walk toward the Light.

A Personal Word

As I write this, I'm mindful of my own journey—from that Cursillo weekend where I heard God's call, through years of learning and growing and stumbling and getting back up, to this moment of launching a new year and a new expression of our ministry.

 I'm mindful that I'm a layperson in central, Florida, trying to be faithful to a calling I never anticipated. I'm blessed by my wonderful spouse, who supports this work, and by the Orlando Diocese Cursillo community that shaped my faith. I'm mindful of my studies in spiritual direction at the Avila Institute, which continue to shape me as I walk alongside others seeking Christ.

But most of all, I'm mindful of grace—God's absolutely gratuitous, unmerited, lavish grace that has transformed my life and continues to transform it daily. None of us deserves the invitation Christ extends. All of us receive it as a pure gift. The only appropriate response is gratitude, and gratitude expressed through action: accepting the invitation, grasping the hand, walking toward the Light, and inviting others to do the same.

That's what Saintly Journeys is about. That's what "Come & See" means. That's why we're here.

Your Next Step

Don't let this moment pass. You've read this far, which means something resonated. Don't let that fade into background noise.

Take one concrete step today:

• Share your email, first name, and any thoughts in the Come and See section. (I will hold your information within and will not share it; you will only receive emails from saintlyjourneys@gmail.com)
• Explore our available programs
• Commit to one spiritual practice—daily prayer, weekly Mass, regular Scripture reading
• Reach out with your questions or your desire to go deeper

The Light is shining. The hand is extended. The invitation is offered.

Is this your year?

Come and see.

A Blessing for Your Journey

As we begin this new year together, I want to leave you with a blessing:

May the Lord bless you and keep you as you take your next step toward Him.

May the Lord make His face to shine upon you and illuminate the path before you.

May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace—the peace that comes from knowing you're loved, you're invited, you're welcomed into the very heart of God.

May you have the courage to grasp Christ's outstretched hand.

May you have the perseverance to keep walking even when the way seems difficult.

And may this be your year—the year you respond to the invitation that has been waiting for you since before you were born.

Welcome to Saintly Journeys. Welcome to the Light.

Come and see.

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Randy Schwingle is the founder of Saintly Journeys, an online Catholic evangelization ministry. A Eucharistic Minister at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church in Wildwood, Florida, he is active in the Cursillo movement and studies spiritual direction at the Avila Institute. Responding to Isaiah 6:8—"Here am I. Send me!"—Randy creates accessible resources for spiritual formation and outreach.