"When Jesus saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things."
Saint Elizabeth had this to write about this particular gospel...
What Moves Our Heart with Pity
I assure you my becoming a Catholic was a very simple consequence of going to a Catholic country where it was impossible for anyone interested in any religion not to see the wide difference between the first established faith given and founded by our Lord and his apostles, and the various forms it has since taken.
And as I had always delighted in reading the Scriptures, I had so deep an impression of the mysteries of divine revelation, that though full of the sweet thought that every good and well meaning soul was right, I determined when I came home both in duty to my children and my own soul to learn all I was capable of understanding on the subject. If ever a soul did make a fair enquiry, our God knows that mine did, and every day of life more and more increases my gratitude to him for having made me what I am...
I was convinced my safe plan was to unite with the Church in which at all events they admitted that I would find salvation, and where also I would be secure of the apostolic succession, as well as of the many consolations which no other religion but the Catholic can afford.
The whole is that with the conviction of my conscience, my salvation depended on my embracing the Catholic faith. I never obtrude my thoughts on the subject but leave all to their own light and grace while I enjoy mine. A true joy to me indeed [is] the daily morning sacrifice and our frequent, and daily communion, when prepared-what a contrast to the morning sleep in former days. It has been my wealth in poverty, and joy in deepest afflictions.
the Monsignor who presided over Mass yesterday shared with me the thought that he read the above in his magnificat and wondered if i had read it yet? i said "yes! but not at great length or study..." he said "you must - she reminds me of you."
warm fuzzy :) any time a priest or holy one of God tells me they thought of me makes me feel all sorts of good inside, even though i am merely a mangled mess of goo (today, also, with a lumpy head).