Over the past 15 years of practicing my faith, I’ve tried just about every devotional out there — “Jesus Calling,” Blessed is She, Word on Fire, and everything in between. I’ve spent more than a pretty penny and fallen for every Catholic marketing scheme imaginable. I even had to set boundaries for myself: only ONE devotional per liturgical season.
Looking back, I can confidently say I’ve grown leaps and bounds thanks to the variety of Catholic content I’ve consumed — praise be to God! The abundance of options means there’s something for everyone, no matter your prayer style or personality. It’s also a beautiful testament to the Holy Spirit at work, inspiring so many to share the revelations he’s flourishing in their hearts.
But let’s be real: I paid a lot to keep up with the Catholic trends and bought the latest devotional from Ascension Press, Ave Maria, and every other publisher known to man. Eventually, my wallet cried, “Enough!” I realized I was craving something simpler and more tied to the daily liturgy of Holy Mother Church.
Seeking guidance amid simplicity
This realization came during my big international move to Spain, which forced me to give away nearly all my possessions. My beloved book collection? Gone. With simplicity as my new mantra, my prayer life shifted, too. The days of sorting through stacks of journals and devotionals were replaced by quiet moments of stillness and listening. Adjusting to life in a new country and preparing for the Sacrament of Marriage, I found myself craving less noise and more presence. Prayer became about attentiveness to the Lord’s heartbeat, about waiting on him patiently, without distractions from even good and holy things.
Now, settled and grounded in my married life here in Madrid, God has gently rekindled my love for journaling and reflection. It started with small nudges — a yearning for quiet mornings at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, lost in thought with the Lord. I wanted to dive deeper into the beauty of his presence, exploring new facets of his love and truth I’d learned from years of simple observance. But I also recognized my own limitations; I needed guidance, wisdom, and insights to help me connect the dots.
Right on cue, I spotted a copy of “Magnificat” on the freebie table at my parish after daily Mass. I grabbed it (because, hello, it was free!) and flipped through the pages. The familiar layout brought a sense of comfort and peace. Years earlier, I’d read the “Magnificat” daily and loved it. Why I stopped, I couldn’t tell you — probably distracted by the allure of newer, trendier devotionals.
My ride-or-die devotional
Since that day, I’ve renewed my subscription to the “Magnificat.” It’s become my ride-or-die devotional. It brings me the same feeling I get when I open my tattered Bible of 10+ years — its pages brimming with highlights, scribbles, and Post-it tabs peeking out at every angle; the duct tape holding its spine together is a badge of honor. Despite the wear and tear, my Bible feels fresh every time I open it — just like the Mass itself. That familiar scent of incense, the timeless prayers we recite, the rich traditions passed down through centuries … it all feels like home.
I’m grateful for all the new and creative ways the Holy Spirit shows up in today’s world. But in a culture overflowing with noise and stimulation, I find myself longing for the enduring truth, beauty, and goodness of things that evoke stability — things that have stood the test of time. Trends come and go, but the firmly rooted aspects of faith are what ground me in God’s presence.
For me, that’s my Bible, my missal, my 1950s rosary from La Salette, the Mass itself — and, yes, my little “Magnificat.” This humble book, adored by sweet daily Mass grandmas and cherished by priests since the ’90s, strikes the perfect balance between simplicity and depth, tradition and creativity, old and new.
What’s in the ‘Magnificat’?
The “Magnificat” includes daily Mass readings, reflections from saints, theologians, and Doctors of the Church, and contributions from writers like Bishop Robert Barron and faithful Catholic laity. It’s structured to help you pray thoughtfully with the Church while inviting you into a mystical, meditative life of prayer. Each cover is adorned with sacred art, from classic masterpieces to hidden gems, beautifully capturing the mysteries of our faith with reverence.
And for all my budget-savvy friends: the “Magnificat” is cheap. A one-year subscription costs about the same as many devotionals for just one liturgical season. Commit to two or three years, and the savings will have you shouting alleluia! If you’re looking to grow in faith without breaking the bank, this is the devotional for you. (No: “Magnificat” is not sponsoring me or Caeli. I just love it that much!)
I’m struck by how this relatively modern publication feels as timeless and universal as the treasures of our Catholic faith. True tradition doesn’t boast; it simply is. It stands on its own, with unwavering dignity. The “Magnificat” reflects that beautifully — and this means even more to me now as an expat living outside the United States. I go without 90% of the things I had my entire life. While I knew what I was getting myself into when I moved here, I can’t deny the human part of me that sometimes aches with nostalgia for the things I’ve always loved and known. Finding the “Magnificat” on the freebie table after Mass, and realizing the publication was international and even available in Spanish, was so meaningful. Having something as steadfast and familiar as the “Magnificat” anchors me in those traditions, reminding me that no matter where I am, the universal Church is my home.
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