"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior."
Luke 1:46–47

Today we reach the final step of our journey.

For the past two days, we have walked with Mary through her “yes” and her complete trust in God.
Today, we contemplate the promise that awaits every heart that remains faithful.

Take a quiet breath.
Let today’s fragrance remind you that God never calls us to lose our lives, but to receive them more fully.

Reflection

The Feast of the Assumption is a feast of hope.
It reminds us that our destiny is not darkness, but light.
Not loss, but fulfillment. Not the end, but communion with God.

Mary’s Assumption is often misunderstood as something that belongs to her alone.

Yet the Church celebrates it because it reveals something about all of us.
In Mary, we glimpse the future God desires for His children.
Her life teaches us that every hidden act of love matters.
Every quiet “yes.”
Every tear offered in faith. Every gesture of forgiveness.
Nothing is forgotten. Nothing is wasted.
Love is gathered into eternity.

As we conclude this triduum, Mary gently turns our gaze away from herself and toward her Son.

She has always done so.
Her greatness lies not in drawing attention to herself, but in leading us to Christ.
That is why Christians have loved her for centuries.

She is not the destination. She is the one who quietly shows us the way.
Today, let us receive this feast as an invitation to hope.

Whatever burdens you carry... Whatever questions remain unanswered... Whatever sorrow still accompanies you...

Remember this:
God is preparing far more than you can yet imagine.

Fragrance of the Day : Rose

For centuries, the rose has been called the Queen of Flowers.

Its beauty is not loud. It unfolds petal by petal.
Christian tradition has long associated the rose with joy, love, and the fullness of life.

Today, let its fragrance remind you that God desires your life to blossom, even through seasons of waiting.
Every flower begins as a hidden bud.
Grace unfolds in much the same way.

Prayer

Mary, Mother of Hope,

Thank you for walking beside us through these days of prayer.
Teach me to keep my eyes fixed on Christ.

When I lose courage, remind me that love is stronger than fear.
When I become discouraged, help me remember that God is always at work, even when I cannot yet see the fruit.

May my life become a quiet witness to hope.

Amen.

Invitation for Today

As you celebrate the Feast of the Assumption, carry this question in your heart:

How can I become a sign of hope for someone today?

May the joy of the Assumption remain with you long after these three days have ended.

May Mary continue to lead you gently toward her Son, and may the fragrance of hope accompany your every step.

With gratitude for having shared these three days with you,

Véronique

🌹Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

"Into your hands I commit my spirit."
Luke 23:46

Before you begin, take a slow breath.

Allow today’s fragrance to remind you that God is always near, even in moments of uncertainty.
As we continue our journey toward the Feast of the Assumption, let us ask Mary to teach us the peace that comes from complete trust.

Reflection

There comes a moment in every life when we realize that we cannot control everything.
We cannot control the passing of time.
We cannot prevent suffering.
We cannot hold on forever to the people we love.

Faith begins where control ends.

The Christian East offers a beautiful word for Mary’s final moments on earth.
Rather than speaking of her death, it speaks of her Dormition—her “falling asleep.”
It is not meant to deny death.
Rather, it reminds us that for those who live in Christ, death is no longer the final word.
It becomes a passage. A peaceful surrender into the loving hands of the Father.

The ancient icons of the Dormition show something profoundly moving.
Mary lies peacefully, surrounded by the apostles.
Above her stands Christ, holding a small child wrapped in white.
That child is Mary’s soul.

The one who once carried the Son of God in her arms is now carried by Him.
What tenderness. What hope.
This image reminds us that God never asks us to walk alone.
The One whom Mary welcomed into the world now welcomes her into eternal life.

Perhaps the invitation for us today is not to understand everything... but simply to trust.
To entrust to God what weighs heavily on our hearts.
To believe that even in endings, He is quietly preparing a new beginning.

Fragrance of the Day : Spikenard (Nard)

The fragrance of nard appears at moments of profound love and surrender.

Mary of Bethany poured it over Jesus before His Passion.
Its perfume filled the whole house.
Today, let its fragrance remind us that love is never lost.

Everything entrusted to God becomes an offering.

Prayer

Mary,
teach me to rest in God’s hands as you did.
When I cling to fear, help me to loosen my grip.
When I cannot see the future, help me to trust the One who already walks before me.

May I discover that surrender is not weakness, but the deepest expression of faith.

Amen.

Invitation for Today

Carry this question with you today.

What am I being invited to place into God’s hands?

Welcome.

For the next three days, let us slow down together as we prepare our hearts for the Feast of the Assumption. Find a quiet place, breathe deeply, and allow today’s Scripture, fragrance, and prayer to accompany your journey.

"Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."
Luke 1:38

Before you begin reading, pause for a moment.
If you have a flower nearby, or a drop of essential oil that you love, place it beside you. Let its fragrance become part of your prayer today.
Take one slow, deep breath.
Then another.
Ask Mary to accompany you as you begin this three-day journey toward the Feast of the Assumption.

Reflection

Every great journey with God begins with a single word.

Yes.

Mary’s “yes” was not spoken because she understood everything. It was not the certainty of someone who already knew the road ahead. It was the trust of a woman who believed that God would remain faithful, even when the path disappeared into mystery.

So often we imagine holiness as something extraordinary. Yet the Gospel begins with something profoundly simple: a young woman who opens her heart.

Her “yes” changed history.

But before it changed the world, it transformed her own life.
Perhaps that is where God still meets us today—not in our achievements, but in our willingness.
Our own “yes” is rarely dramatic.
More often, it is whispered in the ordinary moments of life: yes to forgiveness... yes to patience... yes to hope when everything feels uncertain... yes to trusting that love is stronger than fear.

The Assumption reminds us that Mary’s journey did not end with the Annunciation. Her first “yes” became a lifelong pilgrimage of faith, carried through joy, exile, misunderstanding, silence, and the sorrow of standing beneath the Cross.

Every faithful “yes” prepared her for glory.
Perhaps ours does too.

Fragrance of the Day : Lily

For centuries, the lily has been associated with the Virgin Mary.

Its whiteness speaks of purity, but perhaps even more beautifully, its fragrance speaks of quiet presence.
The lily does not compete for attention.
It simply blooms where it has been planted.
Mary’s life was much the same. She did not seek recognition. She made space for God.

If you have the fragrance of white lily—or simply a flower whose perfume brings you peace—allow its gentle scent to remind you that holiness often grows in hidden places, nourished by quiet fidelity.

Prayer

Mary,
you who welcomed God’s invitation
with humility and trust,
teach me to recognize the invitations hidden within my own ordinary life.

When I hesitate,give m e courage.
When I fear, give me peace.
When I do not understand, help me to trust.

May my own small “yes” become a place where Christ can be born again in the world.

Amen.

Invitation for Today

Carry one question with you throughout the day.

Where is God inviting me to say “yes” today?

Today, on the feast of Saint Clare of Assisi, I find myself thinking of a woman who has been very close to my heart for a long time.

I have always been deeply moved by the relationship between Clare and Francis of Assisi. There was something extraordinary in the way they recognized one another’s spiritual calling and supported each other in following a path that was completely outside the expectations of their time.

In this, I often think of Mary Magdalene and Jesus.

Not because the two relationships were the same, of course, but because both stories reveal something that I find deeply meaningful: a woman recognized in her own spiritual calling, trusted, and allowed to become a bearer of her own path of transmission.

A woman who dared to choose

Clare was born in Assisi in 1194 into a wealthy and noble family. She was expected to marry and follow the life prescribed for a young woman of her social position.

But when she heard Francis preach during Lent, something changed.

She was so deeply touched by his words that she secretly left her family and went to meet him at the Porziuncola. Francis understood what was happening in her heart and helped her begin a new life.
Eventually, he established her at San Damiano.

There, Clare founded a new community of women — what would become the Poor Clares.
Other young women joined her, and together they chose something radical for their time: a life of prayer, community and absolute poverty.
Clare was not simply following Francis.

She had found her own calling.

“She wears pants!”

I remember standing before Clare’s incorrupt body in Assisi. Seeing her there, still dressed in the habit she had worn in life, was deeply moving. There was something profoundly intimate about that encounter — to stand so close to a woman who had lived nearly eight centuries ago, and yet whose presence still feels so remarkably alive.

I also visited San Damiano, the convent she founded, and spent time in those places where she had lived, prayed, struggled and persevered.
It was deeply moving.

Our guide said something about Clare that made me smile:

“She wears pants!”

Of course, she meant that Clare was a woman who was not easily pushed around.
And there is something wonderfully accurate about this expression.
Clare was gentle and contemplative, but she was also extraordinarily strong.
She knew what she had chosen. And she refused to give it up.

The privilege of poverty

After Francis died in 1226, Clare lost her great spiritual companion and supporter.

She was now largely alone in defending the way of life she had chosen for herself and her sisters.
At the heart of her struggle was something that may seem surprising to us today: the right to remain poor.

Clare fought to preserve what became known as the Privilege of Poverty — the right for her community to live without owning property or securing an income.

For years, she insisted on this. And she did not give up. She fought for this until the very end of her life.

And then came one of the most moving moments of her story.

Two days before Clare’s death, Pope Innocent IV formally confirmed her Rule, including the privilege for which she had fought for so many years.

The story tells us that the papal bull was brought to Clare at her deathbed. She received it with great devotion and kissed the papal seal.
She had finally received what she had waited for.

Two days later, on August 11, 1253, Clare died.

I find this image profoundly moving: a woman at the very end of her life, finally holding in her hands the confirmation of what she had known in her heart to be her calling from the beginning.

Clare and Mary Magdalene

Scarsellino(Italian (Ferrarese), Virgin and Child with Saints Mary Magdalene, Peter, Clare, Francis, and an Abbess - 1600

Perhaps this is why Clare has always spoken to me so deeply.
When I think of her, I also think of Mary Magdalene.

Both women stand at the beginning of something they did not create for themselves. Both encounter a spiritual teacher who recognizes something in them. And both eventually have to walk forward in their own right.

Mary Magdalene is entrusted with the first announcement of the Resurrection.
Clare becomes the founder and spiritual mother of a community of women.
Neither woman remains simply a disciple standing behind someone else.

They receive, embody and transmit something of their own.

This is one of the things that continues to fascinate me about the women who surround the great spiritual traditions.
They are often remembered as followers.
But when we look more closely, we discover women who were also founders, guardians, witnesses and transmitters.

Perhaps that is why Clare still feels so alive to me. She reminds us that contemplation is not weakness. That gentleness does not mean passivity.
And that sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is simply refuse to abandon what we know to be true.

Today, on her feast day, I think of Clare standing quietly but firmly in her own truth.

A woman who, as our guide in Assisi so wonderfully put it, “wore pants.”

May Saint Clare accompany all of us who are learning to recognize our own calling — and to have the courage to remain faithful to it.

With love from Provence,

Véronique 🌹
Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

Before celebrating this beautiful feast, I would love to invite you to slow down with me for three days.

Beginning August 12, we will journey together through a simple triduum inspired by Scripture, the Christian tradition, and the beauty of creation.

Each day you will receive:

• A Gospel passage to pray with

• The Fragrance of the Day — discovering a flower or sacred fragrance that has accompanied Christian prayer through the centuries

• A contemplative reflection

• A simple prayer

• A gentle invitation to carry with you throughout the day

Together we will explore:

Day One – Mary’s First Yes

Day Two – The Dormition: Resting in God’s Hands

Day Three – The Assumption: Created for Glory

Whether you are discovering these traditions for the first time or have celebrated them for many years, I hope these three days will become a quiet space of peace before one of the Church’s most joyful feasts.

May we prepare our hearts together.

With gratitude,

Véronique

Will you join me?

If you would like to receive each reflection directly in your inbox, subscribe today and walk with us through these three days of prayer.

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Before dawn, the streets of Saint-Maximin are almost silent.
Then, in the distance, the first drum begins to sound.

Little by little, the town awakens. Families gather, traditional costumes appear, and the Bravadaires set out through the ancient streets, announcing the Feast of Mary Magdalene according to a tradition that has been cherished in Provence for centuries.

Every year, people ask me if these celebrations are simply folklore.
For those of us who were born here, they have never felt that way.
They are a living act of remembrance.
Not a performance of the past, but a tradition that still breathes today through the people who choose to carry it forward.

As President of the Santo Madaleno Association, it was a profound joy to witness this year’s celebration unfold.

The morning led us to the Solemn Mass in the Basilica where Mary Magdalene’s relics have been venerated for more than seven centuries. Later, her reliquary was carried through the streets of the city, accompanied by prayer, music, and the faithful.
But the moment that touched me most came before all of that.

It was watching the children.
A father proudly standing beside his daughters in their Provençal costumes.
Young boys carrying halberds almost as tall as themselves.
Little girls taking their first steps into a tradition they have watched since they were babies.
No one had asked them to perform.
They simply belonged.

Children rarely learn traditions by being taught.
They learn them by belonging.
That is how living traditions endure—not because they are preserved behind glass in museums, but because they are woven into everyday life, family memories, and shared celebrations.

As the reliquary of Mary Magdalene moved through the streets, I was reminded that her greatest legacy was never an object or even a place.
It was the faithful transmission of hope from one heart to another.
Generation after generation.
Century after century.

At the festive meal that followed, each guest received a small commemorative biscuit created especially for Santo Madaleno 2026.
It was only a simple biscuit, yet many smiled as they carefully tucked it away to take home.
Some memories nourish us in more ways than one.

As these celebrations came to an end, I found myself reflecting on what truly keeps a tradition alive.
It is not nostalgia. It is not habit.
It is love, freely received and freely passed on.

Living traditions are not memories of the past. They are gifts we choose to pass on.

With love from Provence,

Véronique 🌹
Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

Scripture

“Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord.’”

John 20:18

Reflection

Today, on the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene, our journey comes to its joyful conclusion.

Yet Mary Magdalene’s story did not end on Easter morning.

According to the ancient Christian tradition cherished in Provence, she came to this land to proclaim the Gospel. For centuries, pilgrims have climbed the Holy Mountain of Sainte-Baume, prayed in the cave where she is believed to have spent the final years of her life, and venerated her relics in the Basilica of Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume.

For more than seven hundred years, generation after generation has gathered on July 22 to celebrate their beloved saint.

Children.
Families.
Pilgrims from around the world.
Dominican friars.
The faithful who have never stopped passing on her memory.

Every year, the bells ring. The streets fill with joy. The relics are honored.
Songs and prayers rise toward heaven.

It is not simply the remembrance of a woman who lived long ago.
It is the celebration of a living witness whose encounter with Christ continues to transform hearts today.

Mary Magdalene reminds us that the Gospel is never merely preserved.
It is handed on.
From one generation to another. From one heart to another.

As our nine days together come to an end, her invitation remains wonderfully simple:

Come to Christ. Listen to Him. Remain faithful. Receive His mercy.

And go into the world with the joyful certainty:

“I have seen the Lord.”

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Thank you for your faithful witness through the centuries.

Pray for all who come to Provence seeking Christ.

Pray for all who honor your memory throughout the world.

May the same love that transformed your life continue to transform ours.

And may we become living witnesses of the Risen Lord for future generations.

Amen.

A Moment of Gratitude

Take a few moments to thank God for this journey.

If possible today, read once more the words of Mary Magdalene:

“I have seen the Lord.”

May they become the prayer of your own heart.

A Personal Invitation

Perhaps one day your own pilgrimage will bring you to Provence, where the memory of Saint Mary Magdalene has been lovingly preserved for centuries.

It would be my joy to welcome you and walk with you through the places where her story continues to live. Together, we would discover not only the beauty of Provence, but also the living faith and traditions that have kept her memory alive for more than seven centuries.

Until then, may her witness continue to inspire and guide your own journey with Christ.

If these reflections have blessed you…

If this novena has helped you draw closer to Christ through the witness of Saint Mary Magdalene, please consider sharing it with a friend, your parish, or someone who may need hope today.

May her story continue to touch hearts, one person at a time.

Share

With gratitude for having shared these nine days with you,

Véronique

🌹Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

Dear friends,

Tomorrow we celebrate the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene.

It is hard to believe that these nine days have already come to an end.

As I send you this final reflection, my heart is filled with gratitude.

Thank you for walking this journey with me. Thank you for your messages, your prayers, your reflections, and for the beautiful stories so many of you have shared. Although we may live in different countries and come from different Christian traditions, I have truly felt that we were united each day in prayer around Mary Magdalene and, above all, around Christ.

My hope was never simply to offer a series of reflections.

It was to create a small sacred space where, for a few moments each day, we could pause, listen, and allow the Lord to call each of us more deeply into His love.

Tomorrow’s meditation is the final one—but I hope it is also the beginning of something new.

May the witness of Saint Mary Magdalene continue to inspire you long after this novena has ended. May her courage, her faithful love, and her unwavering hope accompany you wherever your own journey leads.

If one day your path brings you to Provence, it would be my great joy to welcome you here, where the memory of Mary Magdalene has been lovingly preserved for more than seven centuries.

Until then, know that you will remain in my prayers on this beautiful feast day.

May Christ bless you, and may Saint Mary Magdalene walk beside you always.

With all my love and gratitude,

Veronique

Scripture

“Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: ‘I have seen the Lord!’ And she told them that he had said these things to her.”

John 20:18

Reflection

Mary Magdalene’s journey has reached its fulfillment.

She came to Jesus carrying the weight of her past. She learned to listen. She discovered friendship. She remained faithful at the Cross. She waited beside the tomb. She encountered the Risen Lord.

Now, she is sent.
The first witness of the Resurrection becomes its first messenger.
Christian tradition has long honored her with the beautiful title:

“The Apostle to the Apostles.”

She does not receive this mission because of power, status, or authority.
She receives it because she has encountered Christ.
Her life has been transformed by His mercy.
And transformed lives naturally become living witnesses.

The first words of her mission are beautifully simple:

“I have seen the Lord.”

She does not begin with a theological argument. She begins with a personal encounter.

This remains the heart of every Christian witness.
We do not first proclaim ideas. We share the One who has changed our lives.
Every disciple has a unique vocation.
Peter will shepherd the Church.
John will contemplate the mystery of divine love.
Mary Magdalene reminds the Church that its deepest purpose is always the same: to announce that Christ is alive.

Her mission did not end on Easter morning. It continues wherever hearts are transformed by the love and mercy of Christ.
The same Holy Spirit who filled her heart continues to send ordinary men and women into the world as witnesses of the Risen Christ.

Every person who discovers hope after despair…
Every life restored by forgiveness…
Every heart renewed by grace… continues the witness of Mary Magdalene.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

You were the first to proclaim the joy of the Resurrection.

Teach us to speak of Christ with humility, courage, and love.

May our words always flow from a life transformed by His mercy.

Help us never to keep the Good News for ourselves, but to become joyful witnesses wherever the Lord sends us.

May others come to know His love through the way we live.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Imagine Mary Magdalene leaving the garden.

Her heart is overflowing with joy.
She runs to share the news.

Then ask yourself:

Where is Christ sending me today?
Who in my life needs to hear, not only with words but through my life, that hope is alive?

Remain in silence and entrust your answer to the Lord.

Scripture

“Jesus said to her, ‘Mary.’
She turned toward him and cried out, ‘Rabboni!’ (which means ‘Teacher’).
Jesus said, ‘Do not hold on to me… Go instead to my brothers and tell them…’”

John 20:16–17

Reflection

The Resurrection begins in a garden.
This is no coincidence.

Humanity’s story of loss began in the Garden of Eden.

Now, in another garden, a new creation begins.
When Mary Magdalene first sees the risen Jesus, she mistakes Him for the gardener. In a profound sense, she is not entirely wrong.

Christ is the New Adam.

He comes to cultivate new life where death once seemed to reign.
Yet Mary does not recognize Him by His appearance.
She recognizes Him when He speaks her name.

“Mary.”

Everything changes in that single word.
The One she believed lost forever has been calling her all along.
He does not first explain the mystery of the Resurrection. He simply calls her by name.

This is how God always meets us.

Not as strangers. Not as a crowd. But personally. Intimately. Lovingly.

Then comes the surprising invitation:
“Do not hold on to me.”

Love must now take a new form.
Mary Magdalene is invited to let go of the way she has known Jesus so that she may receive Him in a deeper way.
The risen Christ will no longer walk beside her as before. He will dwell within her.
Faith now replaces sight. Presence becomes deeper than touch.
The One she loved has not disappeared. He has become closer than ever.

Mary Magdalene leaves the garden transformed.

She came looking for a body. She leaves carrying the Living Christ within her heart.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us to recognize the voice of Christ when He calls us by name.

When grief, fear, or uncertainty cloud our vision, help us to trust that He is nearer than we imagine.

Lead us from seeing only with our eyes to believing with our hearts.

May the Risen Christ live within us and fill us with the joy that no darkness can overcome.

Help us to become witnesses of the hope that springs from the empty tomb.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Imagine yourself standing with Mary Magdalene in the garden.

Hear Jesus gently speak your name.
Remain in silence for a few moments.

Then ask yourself:

If Christ were calling me by name today, what would He be inviting me to let go of... and what new life would He be inviting me to embrace?

Scripture

“The women who had come with Jesus from Galilee followed Joseph and saw the tomb and how his body was laid in it.”

Luke 23:55

Reflection

The Cross is behind them.
The Resurrection has not yet begun.
Only silence remains.

Mary Magdalene follows Joseph of Arimathea to the tomb.
She watches carefully as the body of Jesus is laid to rest.
She notices everything.

The place. The stone. The linen cloths.

Love remembers every detail.
She has nothing left to do. Nothing left to say.
She cannot change what has happened. She can only remain close.

This may be the hardest moment of all.
At the Cross, Jesus was still present.

Now even His voice is silent.
How familiar this experience can be.

There are seasons in every life when God seems hidden.

Our prayers seem unanswered. Our hopes appear buried beneath a heavy stone.

Like Mary Magdalene, we wait. Not because we understand.
But because love does not walk away.

The Gospel never tells us that Mary Magdalene lost hope.
It simply tells us that she remained faithful.
She stayed close to the place where love seemed to have ended.
Yet that very place would soon become the place of new life.

The tomb was not the end. It was the threshold.

Often, God is already preparing a new beginning while we are still standing before what feels like an ending.

Mary Magdalene teaches us that hope is sometimes nothing more—and nothing less—than remaining faithful in the silence.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Stay beside us whenever we pass through times of waiting and uncertainty.

When we cannot see God’s plan, teach us to trust His love.

When silence feels heavy, remind us that Christ is still at work, even beyond our sight.

Help us to remain faithful, believing that every tomb held in God’s hands can become the place of a new beginning.

May hope never leave our hearts.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Imagine yourself sitting quietly before the sealed tomb.

Do not hurry toward Easter. Simply remain there with Mary Magdalene.

Then ask yourself:

What part of my life am I being invited to entrust to God, even though I cannot yet see what He is preparing?

Remain in silence, trusting that God is already at work.

Scripture

“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.”

John 19:25

Reflection

Most of the disciples had fled.
Fear had scattered those who had once walked beside Jesus.

Only a few remained.
Among them was Mary Magdalene.

She could not change what was happening.
She could not take away His suffering.
She could not save Him from death.

She simply stayed.

Sometimes we believe that love must always solve problems.
The Gospel teaches us something different.

Sometimes the greatest act of love is simply to remain present.
To stay when everything else urges us to leave.
To remain faithful when nothing seems to make sense.

Mary Magdalene had already experienced Christ’s mercy.

Now she learns another lesson.
Love does not disappear when suffering begins.
True love remains.

The Cross is the place where every illusion falls away.
Nothing is left except trust.

At the foot of the Cross, there are no explanations.
Only presence. Only love. Only fidelity.

This faithful presence prepares Mary Magdalene for the joy that is still hidden beyond the darkness.

Those who remain at Calvary will also be the first to witness the dawn of Easter.
Faithfulness is never wasted.

Every quiet act of love offered in difficult times prepares our hearts for the Resurrection that God is already bringing to birth.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us the courage to remain with Christ in every season of life.
When suffering, disappointment, or uncertainty tempt us to walk away, help us to stay close to Him.

Give us a faithful heart that does not seek easy answers, but trusts in His love even in the darkest hours.

May we learn that true friendship is proved not only in moments of joy, but also at the foot of the Cross.
Remain beside us, and lead us always toward the hope of the Resurrection.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Imagine yourself standing beside Mary Magdalene at the foot of the Cross.

Do not try to speak. Simply remain there with Jesus.

Then ask yourself:

Where is Christ asking me to remain faithful today, even when I do not understand His ways?

Stay in silence for a few moments, allowing His love to strengthen your heart.

Scripture

“While Jesus was in Bethany... a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.”

Matthew 26:6–7

Reflection

As our journey continues, Christian tradition invites us to contemplate Mary Magdalene in the woman who anoints Jesus at Bethany.

She says nothing.
She offers no explanation.
She simply pours out her most precious possession.

To those watching, it seems extravagant. Wasteful. Even irresponsible.

But Jesus sees something entirely different.
He sees love. True love is never measured only by usefulness.
It always gives more than seems reasonable.

The woman does not calculate. She does not hold anything back.

The perfume fills the whole house with its fragrance, just as genuine love quietly transforms everything around it.

The anointing also carries a deeper meaning.
Without fully understanding it herself, she prepares Jesus for the suffering that lies ahead.
Her gesture becomes a silent act of faith.

Sometimes the most profound prayer is not spoken. It is offered.

There are moments when words are no longer enough.
Love simply remains in the presence of the Beloved.
This is the heart of adoration.
Not first a devotion. Not first a practice.
But the response of a heart that has discovered it is deeply loved.

Mary Magdalene reminds us that every encounter with Christ invites us to ask a simple question:

What is my alabaster jar?

What precious gift—my time, my attention, my forgiveness, my trust, my very life—am I willing to place completely in His hands?

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us to love Christ without reserve.

Help us not to measure our generosity, but to offer ourselves freely, just as you poured out your precious perfume.

When our love is misunderstood, give us the courage to remain faithful.

May our lives become a fragrance of gratitude, reflecting the beauty of the One who first loved us.

Lead us ever more deeply into the silent adoration born of friendship with Christ.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Imagine yourself in the house at Bethany.
The room is silent.
The fragrance of the perfume fills the air.
Jesus is before you.

Ask yourself:

What is Christ inviting me to place in His hands today?

Remain with Him for a few moments, without words.

Scripture

“Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”

John 11:5

Reflection

As we continue our pilgrimage with Mary Magdalene, the Christian tradition invites us to contemplate her within the beloved family of Bethany.

Bethany was more than a village. It was a place of friendship.

Again and again, Jesus returned there to rest, to share a meal, to find welcome among those who loved Him.

The Gospel tells us something extraordinary:

“Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”

These simple words reveal the heart of God.

Our faith is not founded only on commandments or duties. It is founded on a relationship.
Christ desires to be close to us—not as a distant master, but as a faithful friend.

Later, He will tell His disciples:

“I no longer call you servants... I have called you friends.” (John 15:15)

This friendship does not disappear when suffering enters our lives.

When Lazarus dies, Martha runs to Jesus. Mary remains silent, overcome with grief.
Each expresses love in a different way.
Neither is judged.
Both are received.

Jesus Himself is deeply moved. He weeps with those who weep.
He enters fully into their sorrow before revealing His glory.
Then, standing before the tomb, He calls Lazarus back to life.

This is more than a miracle.
It is a promise.

Every true friendship with Christ leads toward life.
There will be moments when we do not understand His timing.

Moments when He seems absent.
Moments when hope feels buried beneath the weight of loss.
Yet His love never ceases.

The Friend who stood before the tomb of Lazarus is the same Friend who stands beside us today.

Mary Magdalene reminds us that friendship with Christ is not built upon perfect understanding.

It is built upon trust.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us to welcome Jesus not only as our Lord, but also as our faithful Friend.

When sorrow, disappointment, or uncertainty enter our lives, help us to trust that He remains close, even when we cannot understand His ways.

May our friendship with Christ grow each day through prayer, faith, and love.

Lead us always to the One who calls us from darkness into life.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Today, remember a time when Christ seemed silent. Bring that memory gently into prayer.

Then ask yourself:

Can I trust His friendship even when I do not yet understand His plan?

Scripture

“Mary sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made... The Lord answered, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’

Luke 10:39–42

Reflection

As we continue our journey with Mary Magdalene, Christian tradition invites us to contemplate her as Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus.

While Martha busies herself with serving, Mary sits quietly at the feet of Jesus.
She listens.
It seems almost too simple.

Yet Jesus calls it “the better part.”

In our world, we often admire activity more than attentiveness.
Our days are filled with schedules, responsibilities, notifications, and endless demands. We measure our lives by what we accomplish rather than by the quality of our presence.

Like Martha, we can become so occupied with doing good things that we forget the One for whom we are doing them.

Jesus does not criticize Martha’s generosity. He gently reveals something deeper.
Her heart has become divided.
She is anxious. Distracted. Pulled in many directions at once.

Mary reminds us that before we are called to serve, we are called to receive.

Before speaking, we are invited to listen. Before acting, we are invited to remain in His presence. The first word of biblical faith is not Go.

It is Listen.

When we truly listen, our hearts gradually become peaceful.
The many voices that compete for our attention begin to lose their power.
We discover again what is truly necessary.

This is the lesson Mary offers us today.

Contemplation is not an escape from life.
It is the place where love learns how to act.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us to choose the better part.

When our lives become crowded with responsibilities, remind us to return to the feet of Christ.

Help us to quiet the many voices that compete for our attention, so that we may hear the gentle voice of the Lord.

May His Word become the light that guides our thoughts, our decisions, and our actions.

Teach us to unite prayer and service, contemplation and love, so that everything we do may flow from our friendship with Christ.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Today, spend ten minutes in silence. Turn off every distraction.

Read today’s Gospel slowly once more.

Then ask yourself:

What voice fills my heart most often—and am I making room to hear the voice of Christ?

Scripture

“A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.”

Luke 7:37–38

Reflection

For centuries, the Western Christian tradition has contemplated Mary Magdalene through the story of the woman who entered the house of Simon the Pharisee carrying an alabaster jar of perfume. Whether we read this passage as part of that living tradition or as a spiritual icon, it reveals a profound truth about every human heart.

The room was filled with respected people—men known for their knowledge of the Law and their faithful observance of religious traditions. Then the woman entered.

Every eye turned toward her.
She was not known by her name, but by her past. She carried the weight of judgment before she had spoken a single word. In the eyes of those around her, she was defined by her failures.

How often do we do the same to ourselves?

We allow our mistakes, our wounds, or the opinions of others to become the mirror in which we see ourselves.
Yet Jesus is not a mirror reflecting only what we think we are.
He reveals who we truly are in the eyes of God.
He sees our wounds, but He also sees the longing hidden beneath them. He sees our sins, but even more deeply, He sees a heart created for love.

The woman dares to cross the room.

She accepts the risk of misunderstanding, rejection, even humiliation, because one thing has become more important than every accusing voice: the gaze of Christ.
She does not come because she believes herself worthy. She comes because she knows she needs mercy.

This is the first step of every spiritual journey.

Mary Magdalene teaches us that healing begins when we stop hiding and allow ourselves to be seen by the One who knows us completely and loves us still.

Today, Christ looks at each one of us with that same compassionate gaze.

He does not ask us to come with a perfect heart. He simply asks us to come.

Prayer

Saint Mary Magdalene,

Teach us the courage to come before Christ just as we are.

When shame, fear, or the memory of our failures keep us at a distance, remind us that His mercy is always greater than our hearts.

Help us to trust His loving gaze more than the judgments of others—or our own.

Lead us to the One who calls each of us by name, heals our deepest wounds, and raises us into new life.

May we learn, like you, to place everything at His feet and discover the freedom that only His love can give.

Amen.

A Moment of Silence

Today, spend a few moments in quiet prayer and ask yourself:

What keeps me from bringing my whole heart to Christ?

Then simply remain in His presence, allowing yourself to be looked upon with love.

On July 22, we will celebrate the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene, the woman whom Christian tradition has called the “Apostle to the Apostles.”

Knowing the deep love and devotion that so many of you share for Mary Magdalene, I would like to invite you to join me for a special nine-day journey:

Nine Days with Mary Magdalene: The Love That Raises Us Up

From July 14 to July 22, I invite you to walk with me in the footsteps of this woman whose life was profoundly transformed by her encounter with Christ.

Day by day, we will contemplate her journey: her transformation, her faithful presence at the foot of the Cross, her vigil at the tomb, and the burning love that made her the first witness to the Resurrection.

Mary Magdalene reminds us that no wound, no darkness, and no past is stronger than the Love that calls us by name.

In her company, we will allow Christ to raise our hearts, renew our hope, and lead us, too, towards the light of the Resurrection.

How to join

If you are already a subscriber to The Magdalene Letters from Provence, there is nothing you need to do. You will receive one meditation each day directly in your inbox, from July 14 through July 22.

If you are discovering this invitation for the first time, you are warmly invited to subscribe for free and join us for these nine days with Mary Magdalene.

Join the novena and receive each meditation directly in your inbox.

I will be very happy to share these nine days with you, from Provence, in the footsteps of Mary Magdalene.

Please feel free to share this invitation with anyone who may wish to join us.

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On July 8, 1593, Artemisia Gentileschi was born in Rome.

Today, she is recognized as one of the greatest painters of the Baroque. Yet for centuries, her name remained in the shadows — first behind that of her father, the painter Orazio Gentileschi, and later behind the terrible violence she endured as a young woman.
At seventeen, Artemisia was raped by the painter Agostino Tassi. A long and humiliating public trial followed.

It would be easy to tell her story only through this wound.

But Artemisia was so much more than what was done to her.
She painted.

She painted women with bodies, voices, courage, sorrow, intelligence and power. She built a remarkable career in a world that offered women almost no place. She worked for princes and great patrons and became the first woman admitted to the prestigious Accademia delle Arti del Disegno in Florence.

She did not disappear. She became an artist.

The Woman Who Acts

Much has been written about the women in Artemisia’s paintings.
Judith. Susanna. Lucretia. Cleopatra.
Women who suffer. Women who resist. Women who act.

In Judith Slaying Holofernes, Artemisia gives us one of the most powerful images of the Baroque. Judith is not a delicate figure standing at a distance from the action. She is entirely present.
She acts.

Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith Slaying Holofernes, c. 1620. Here, the women are not passive figures in someone else’s story. They act — with determination, strength, and an extraordinary physical presence.

It is tempting to read every powerful woman Artemisia painted as a reflection of her own life. Perhaps some of them are. But to see only autobiography in her work would be another way of diminishing her.

Artemisia was not simply a wounded woman who painted her pain. She was a master of light, color, gesture and human emotion.

And perhaps nowhere is this more moving than in her vision of Mary Magdalene.

The Woman Who Is Transformed

Around 1625, Artemisia painted Mary Magdalene in Ecstasy.

There is no landscape. No skull. No book. No jar of ointment.
Almost everything that traditionally identifies Mary Magdalene has disappeared.
There is only a woman.

Artemisia Gentileschi, Mary Magdalene in Ecstasy, c. 1625. In Artemisia’s hands,
Mary Magdalene becomes a woman transformed from within.

Her head falls back. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are slightly parted. One hand rests upon her heart.

She seems to have surrendered to something we cannot see.

The light touches her face, her throat, the folds of her clothing. The darkness around her is deep, but it does not overcome her.

Something is happening within.

I have spent many years walking with Mary Magdalene, and this is what moves me most in Artemisia’s vision: she does not paint the Magdalene as the woman she was before. She paints the moment of transformation itself.

Mary Magdalene is neither posing nor performing her repentance for us. She is not asking to be judged.
She is simply there — completely present to an encounter invisible to everyone but her.
This is not weakness. It is surrender.
And surrender, in the spiritual life, is not defeat. It is the moment when we stop clinging to what we were and allow ourselves to become what we are called to be.

Perhaps Artemisia understood something of this.
Not because Mary Magdalene was her self-portrait. We cannot know that.
But because Artemisia herself knew what it meant to live through darkness and refuse to remain there.

She did not erase what had happened to her. She created beyond it.

More Than Survival

There is a word we often use for women who have suffered: we call them survivors.
It is a necessary word. But sometimes it is not enough.
Artemisia Gentileschi did more than survive.

She created.

She gave biblical women a presence rarely seen before. They are not decorations in someone else’s story. They inhabit the canvas.
And in her Mary Magdalene, I see neither a fallen woman nor a woman defined by her past.

I see a woman being transformed from within. Perhaps this is why Artemisia’s Magdalene still speaks to us today.
Because there are moments in life when survival is only the beginning.
Beyond the wound, beyond the darkness, beyond what others have said we are, another life may still be waiting to emerge.

Artemisia painted her way toward that life.

And more than four centuries later, her light still reaches us.

With love from Provence,

Véronique 🌹

Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

A few days ago, I opened an old folder.

Dozens of pages filled with notes, quotations, and research. A project I had begun years ago about Mary Magdalene.

At the time, I was fascinated by making connections—finding symbols, building bridges between different traditions, exploring new ways of understanding her story.

Reading those pages again today, I didn’t think they were bad.

They simply felt... like they belonged to another season of my life.
They reflected the woman I was then, more than the woman I have become.

For a moment, I wondered whether I should continue the project. After all, I had invested so much time and energy into it.

Then another thought quietly emerged.
A gardener doesn’t let everything grow
A gardener observes. Prunes. Waits.

Not because some branches are worthless, but because the plant cannot carry everything at once. By cutting back a few shoots, the gardener is not harming the rosebush. He is allowing it to produce a more beautiful bloom.

I realized that this project was one of those branches.

It was time to let it go.
Not out of discouragement.
But out of faithfulness.

Over the years, Mary Magdalene has led me somewhere else.
Closer to the Gospels.
Closer to the places that still preserve her memory.
Closer to a living tradition that has whispered her name for centuries.

Little by little, I am discovering that my work is not to add new interpretations, but to gently remove what prevents us from seeing.

To clear away the brambles of misconceptions.
To open paths that have become overgrown through the centuries.
To let the woman of the Gospels emerge, simply as she is.

Sometimes I think books are much like gardens.
You cannot force them to grow.
You cultivate them.

And sometimes, cultivating also means letting go.

If I had to describe what I am trying to do today, it would be this:
To care, as humbly as I can, for a garden that does not belong to me.

My hope is that those who enter it will forget the gardener and marvel at the flowers.
Because the finest compliment anyone can pay a gardener is not,

“What a wonderful gardener you are.”

It is to pause before a single rose and whisper,

“How beautiful.”

And perhaps... Yes
I am Mary Magdalene’s gardener.

With love from Provence,

Véronique 🌹

Walk gently. Remember deeply. Love as She loved.

Nothing in his early life suggested he would become one of Christianity’s greatest apostles. A devoted Pharisee, Saul persecuted the first Christians until the day the Risen Christ met him on the road to Damascus. That encounter transformed everything. From then on, Paul dedicated his entire life to proclaiming the Good News, traveling through Asia Minor, Greece, Cyprus, and eventually Rome.

During his first missionary journey, Paul came to Paphos, Cyprus. According to Christian tradition, he was tied to a stone pillar here and flogged before continuing his mission. That pillar still stands today.

I had the privilege of praying before this place of profound history and faith (see photo below). Standing beside this ancient stone, I reflected on the extraordinary courage of a man who never stopped proclaiming Christ, despite suffering, persecution, and imprisonment.

It is at this very pillar that we will pause during our “From Aphrodite to Mother Mary” Pilgrimage in 2027. Walking where Saint Paul walked offers a powerful opportunity to reflect on the conversion that forever changed the course of Christian history.

On this feast day, may Saints Peter and Paul inspire each of us to answer God’s call with courage, faith, and perseverance.

Join us in 2027 as we journey through Cyprus, following the footsteps of Saint Paul
and discovering the island's rich Christian heritage.

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