What comes to mind when you hear “poor in spirit”? In a general audience on May 2, 2020, Pope Francis told us, “The ‘poor in spirit’ are those who are and feel poor, beggars, in the depths of their being.”

What could be more hopeful than the expectation of a new life? Several team members behind Catholic Women in Business have welcomed new children or grandchildren this year. They, perhaps like you, can attest to the hope that permeates a family awaiting a homecoming. 

Others among us have given life to new business concepts, or taken a turn on our career paths. Each step has been taken with a hopeful heart.

In our fallen world, many things and people compete for our attention and even our allegiance. Making sure Christ is the King we follow with every step isn’t easy; but it’s the only path to true happiness. I promise I’m stumbling beside you on that path! Here are some things I’m trying to help center my career around the true King.

Sharing our faith in a hedonistic culture can be intimidating, even dangerous, and yet we are commanded to do just that by Jesus Himself. “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age” (Matthew 28:19-20).

Discover the untold story of American expat women artists in Paris and how their ambition helped professionalize art for women in the United States. Centered on Jennifer Dasal’s book The Club: Where American Artists Found Refuge in Belle Époque Paris, this article explores the American Girls’ Club — a haven for female artists seeking education, community, and creative freedom abroad. Through faith, beauty, and determination, these pioneering women transformed art from a genteel hobby into a respected profession, shaping the legacy of American art and redefining the role of women creators in both family and society.

Picture this with me: More than a decade ago, I’m sitting at a crowded bar, and this guy who I’ve just met (who, by the way, has whiskers and a nose drawn on his face), is chattering away, sloshing his beer about clumsily. But instead of talking about himself, he spends most of our time together pointing around the bar, and telling me stories about each of his buddies and listing all the quirky characteristics that endear each one of them to him.