Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

Reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 3:1-12 

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, 

As Advent unfolds before us, we’re handed an invitation—not just to more lists, more shopping, or more frantic hustle, but to something riskier and far more honest. Let’s take a glimpse at someone in our own midst—a woman like Samantha, perhaps someone you know, perhaps someone a little like you. 

Every year, Samantha mapped out her perfect Christmas with military precision: menus, presents, decorations, endless lists promising a season that would finally feel right. And every year, as she sat among the torn wrapping paper and cold leftovers, a hollow ache settled in. “Hollowed out by the holidays,” she joked. But beneath that joke—loneliness, disappointment, a hunger for something real. 

Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

A reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 24:37-44 

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, 

Today I want to share with you the story of my best friend, Mark—a man who, like many of us, always considered himself a person of faith. Mark was faithful to Mass, devoted to service, and kept his rosary close by. Then came that dreadful day: his company downsized, and he lost his job. Suddenly, his world was turned upside down. 

Job hunting became his entire focus. Mark poured over online applications, crafted cover letters, hustled every hour of the day, skipping meals, and convincing himself that Sundays were too precious to spend at church. “I’ll pray later,” he thought. “Right now, I have to work.” Sound familiar? Life’s uncertain moments can shake us, and when our routine is upended, it’s all too easy to assume we’ll come back to God—once life is less complicated. 

But weeks of rejection wore Mark down. His faith felt distant; his hope, almost gone. It took a caring friend from church to reach out, listen, and gently remind Mark that we need God most when we feel out of control—not because God will solve our troubles instantly, but because He promises to walk with us through them. Jesus calls us to “stay awake”—not to let worry, fear, or busyness blanket our faith. 

That very night, Mark picked up his rosary, dusted off his prayer life, and asked not for a job, but for peace. The next day he went back to Mass. Being there, he noticed something different—something softer and clearer in the choir’s song, something opening up inside himself. In the weeks that followed, Mark rebuilt his rhythm of prayer, reconnected with his community, and felt his anxiety begin to loosen its grip. 

A new job eventually came, through a connection he made at church—one he’d have missed if he’d stayed isolated. But looking back, Mark realized that the real transformation wasn’t finding work. It was learning to stay awake to God’s presence, preparing his heart for Jesus’ arrival in ways he’d almost overlooked. And it made all the difference.