Patrick J. Murtaugh @infool7

Beloved children of the Church, as the evening shadows lengthen and we gather in quiet reflection, let us turn our hearts to the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who heard the Lord declare: 'Have no fear before them...' In the days when the kingdom of Judah trembled before the rising power of Babylon, the young Jeremiah was called from his priestly village of Anathoth to stand before kings and princes, to speak truth that would bring exile and scorn. The Lord knew his fear, for the prophet cried out that he was but a child, yet the divine command was clear: do not shrink before their faces, for I am with you to deliver you. The Early Fathers saw in this call the very pattern of apostolic courage. St. Jerome, in his commentary, reminds us that Jeremiah's dread was not weakness but the natural trembling of one who bears the burden of God's word amid a faithless generation. Like the apostles who would later face Sanhedrin and sword, Jeremiah learned that fear dissolves when the presence of the Almighty overshadows the threats of men. Origen, too, draws the parallel to the soul's interior battle, where the 'them' we fear are not merely earthly rulers but the principalities that whisper despair into the heart. In the Catena of patristic wisdom, we hear echoes of St. John Chrysostom urging the faithful: the Lord does not promise absence of trial but companionship through it. When the early martyrs stood before Roman magistrates, they carried this same assurance from Jeremiah into their confessions of faith. The historical witness of the Church shows that those who feared not the emperor's edict found deliverance, not always from death, but into the eternal kingdom. As night falls upon our own age, let this verse settle like oil upon troubled waters. Whatever faces you—persecution of the spirit, mockery of the world, or the silent dread within—know that the same Lord who spoke to the prophet speaks to you. Have no fear before them. The God of Jeremiah, of the apostles, and of the Fathers abides with His Church. Rest now in this promise, and awaken tomorrow with courage renewed. #FearNot220 #FearNotUNPLUGGED #080of220 #Catholic

@Scavino47 @USCG Good morning Dan!

Good morning, dear friends. As the soft light of dawn greets us on this August 5, 2026, I hope these words find you with a sense of peace and possibility. Today’s verse from Acts brings us right into the heart of one of the Bible’s most dramatic stories. The Apostle Paul was aboard a ship caught in a violent storm, with everyone fearing for their lives. In the middle of that terror, an angel spoke clearly: "Do not be afraid, Paul..." Those simple words carried an ocean of reassurance. Paul was told he would stand before Caesar and that every person sailing with him would be spared. The storm was real, the danger was immediate, yet the message was one of steady hope and purpose. We all face our own tempests these days. Some are personal—worries about health, finances, or the quiet ache of loneliness. Others feel larger, like the ongoing shifts in our world economy, concerns over climate patterns, or the fast pace of technology that can leave us wondering where we fit. It is easy to feel tossed about, unsure if the waves will ever calm. Yet the same voice that reached Paul still speaks today. We are reminded that we do not sail alone. There is purpose in the journey, and protection for those we love. Even when responsibilities loom ahead like Paul’s meeting with Caesar, we can move forward knowing we are held. This morning, take a gentle breath. Let the fear that has been circling slowly loosen its grip. Trust that each step you take is seen and supported. Small acts of courage—reaching out to a friend, caring for your own heart, or simply showing up—matter more than we know. May this day unfold with quiet strength and unexpected grace. You are not forgotten in the storm. #FearNot220 #134of220 #Catholic

Beloved brethren, as the evening shadows lengthen across this sacred hour, let us gather our hearts around the triumphant words of our risen Savior from the Gospel of Saint Matthew, chapter twenty-eight, verse ten: "Do not be afraid." These words resound from the mouth of the Lord Himself, spoken to the holy women who had hastened to the empty tomb in the first light of Easter. In the historical moment of that resurrection dawn, Jerusalem trembled with confusion and the disciples hid in fear, yet the faithful women received the commission to proclaim life where death had seemed victorious. Saint John Chrysostom, preaching in the great church of Antioch, unfolds this scene with pastoral depth. He teaches that the angel's message and the Lord's own greeting transformed terror into mission. The women, once bowed in sorrow, became heralds sent to the very apostles who doubted. Through the lens of the Catena Aurea, we hear Saint Jerome affirm that these women were made apostles to the apostles, entrusted with the first proclamation of the resurrection. Fear, that inheritance from Eden, is here conquered by the new Adam who has passed through the grave. Saint Augustine, in his Easter sermons, reminds the faithful that this "do not be afraid" is no mere consolation but an invitation into divine joy. The resurrection does not erase the memory of the cross; it reveals its glory. As the early Church faced persecution under emperors who demanded worship of false gods, these words fortified martyrs and confessors alike. The same Lord who calmed the storm on the sea now calms the greater tempest within the soul. My children, consider how this verse pierces our own evenings of anxiety. When worldly powers threaten, when illness weighs heavy, or when doubt whispers in the night, the risen Christ repeats the same command. He who holds the keys of death and Hades speaks peace. Let us cast aside every fear that separates us from His love, for the tomb is empty and the victory is won. May this assurance carry us through the night into the light of a new day. #FearNot220 #FearNotUNPLUGGED #117of220 #Catholic

@MoonManX22 Sounds like something you'd write @mercoglianos

@Cat5SMASHICANE @Kalroy12 Was it a joke, narrative seeding, or a battle plan?

@ConstitustionX @BlueflowerNew22 Illinois makes essentially impossible to even find out how many other Non-citizen officers are patrolling our streets.

Good morning, dear friends. As the first light of August 4, 2026, gently breaks across the sky at this quiet 5:17 AM hour, I find myself pausing with a simple yet powerful invitation from Scripture. "Rejoice always," Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 5:16. These two words carry such weight, especially when the world around us feels heavy with uncertainty. Many of us wake up to the same familiar pressures: news of economic shifts that make everyday bills a little tighter, headlines about distant conflicts that tug at our hearts, or the quiet personal battles like strained relationships and health concerns that no one else sees. It can feel almost impossible to muster joy when fatigue or worry greets us before the coffee even brews. Yet this verse does not demand we ignore reality; it gently calls us to anchor ourselves in something deeper. Rejoicing always is not about pasting on a smile or pretending everything is fine. Instead, it is a quiet decision to notice the steady presence of God amid the ordinary moments. Think of the warmth of sunlight filtering through your window right now, the breath in your lungs, or the small kindnesses you might extend or receive today. In a time when division seems loud and hope feels scarce, choosing to rejoice becomes an act of quiet resistance and trust. For those carrying heavy burdens this morning, whether grief over a loved one, anxiety about the future, or simply the weight of routine responsibilities, remember that rejoicing does not erase pain. It invites us to hold space for both sorrow and gratitude. As Catholics, we know this rhythm well through prayer and the sacraments, where even in silence we find reasons to lift our hearts. The verse reminds us that joy is not a feeling we chase but a posture we practice, rooted in the promise that we are never alone. So as you step into this new day, take a moment to breathe deeply and name one thing that stirs gratitude. Let the words "Rejoice always" settle into your spirit like a morning prayer. Together, we can face whatever comes with hope that is stronger than circumstance. #FearNot220 #185of220 #Catholic

@realMrTruthBomb I was wondering when someone else was going to figure this out.

Beloved brethren, as the evening light fades and our souls gather in sacred silence, let us meditate upon the Lord’s tender words: there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. In the days when Christ walked among us, the Pharisees murmured at the approach of tax collectors and sinners. Yet the divine Shepherd reveals a heavenly mystery hidden from the proud. Saint Ambrose, that golden-mouthed doctor of Milan, declares that the shepherd lifts the weary sheep upon his own shoulders, thereby taking upon himself the burden of our sins and carrying us back to the fold of grace. The early fathers, whose wisdom flows through the Catena Aurea, teach that the ninety-nine represent the unfallen angels who stand ever in the presence of God. The one lost sheep is humanity itself, strayed into the wilderness of iniquity. When the Good Shepherd leaves the ninety-nine in the safety of heaven and descends into our desert, the very angels hold their breath until that single soul is restored. Saint Gregory the Great further unfolds this truth for the infant Church: public penance, though severe, was never without the rejoicing of the heavenly court. Each tear of contrition, each confession whispered in the presence of the priest, echoes louder in paradise than the ceaseless praise of the sinless. For the Lord Himself has said that the recovery of what was lost brings greater gladness than the preservation of what never wandered. My children, consider your own hearts this night. Perhaps you have strayed far, yet the Shepherd still seeks you. One act of true repentance, one humble return, sets the choirs of angels singing. Let us therefore approach the mercy seat with confidence, for our conversion is the very music of heaven. #FearNot220 #FearNotUNPLUGGED #174of220 #Catholic

@vjeannek @TsoRaven @montoyalouis1 That's right, the bad guys don't send text messages or emails to let you know the very moment they'll attack.

@vjeannek @TsoRaven @montoyalouis1 In this case an off-duty officer was also at the scene, engaged the shooter and was struck but remember... When seconds count the police are usually only minutes away.

@Here4Info333 You're welcome, have a blessed day. I'm praying for you and your entire family. God Bless

Good morning, friends. As the first hints of light appear on this August 3, 2026, I find myself reflecting on the quiet strength we all need to carry into the day. At this early hour, before the rush begins, many of us wake already feeling the weight of what lies ahead. The verse for today speaks right into those moments: "...I am not afraid; what can mortals do against me?" from Psalm 118:6. It is a gentle yet powerful reminder that the fears pressing on our hearts often come from things beyond our control—rising costs that stretch family budgets thinner each month, news of conflicts and divisions around the world, or personal worries about health, jobs, and relationships that keep us up at night. We live in a time when uncertainty seems to multiply. Perhaps you are facing an unexpected bill, a difficult conversation with a loved one, or the quiet ache of wondering how things will turn out. These are real struggles, and it is okay to name them. Yet the psalmist invites us to look beyond what people or circumstances can do to us. God stands as our sure foundation. No human threat, no economic shift, and no headline holds ultimate power over the peace He offers. This morning, let that truth settle into your spirit like the sunrise itself—steady, warm, and full of promise. You do not walk through these challenges alone. In the Catholic tradition we are blessed with the sacraments and the prayers of the saints who faced their own trials with the same trust. Bring your cares to the Lord in simple prayer today. Let His presence turn anxiety into quiet confidence and fear into hope. As you step into the hours ahead, carry this verse with you. Choose one small act of courage, one moment of kindness, and remember that mortals can only do so much. Our God can do infinitely more. You are held, you are loved, and there is light waiting for you today. #FearNot220 #062of220 #Catholic

Beloved children of the flock, as the evening light fades and we gather in spirit before the altar of our Lord, let us turn our hearts to the words of the prophet Jeremiah: '...fear not; be not dismayed...' (Jeremiah 46:27). In the turbulent days of the sixth century before our Savior's birth, when the Babylonian empire loomed like a shadow over Judah and the remnant of Israel pondered flight to Egypt, the Lord spoke through His servant not with words of earthly comfort but with divine assurance. The people stood at a crossroads, tempted by alliances with foreign powers and gripped by the dread of exile. Yet the prophet's message pierced through the chaos, reminding them that their deliverance would come not from the Nile's banks but from the hand of the Almighty who had called them from afar. Drawing from the wisdom of the early fathers, St. Jerome, in his commentaries on the prophets, illuminates this passage as a call to detach from worldly fears and cleave to God's eternal covenant. The historical context reveals Judah's leaders seeking refuge in Pharaoh's court, much as the early Church would later face the seductions of imperial Rome or the heresies that threatened the purity of faith. Origen, in his homilies, echoes this by teaching that true dismay arises not from external trials but from a soul forgetful of divine providence. He reminds us that just as Israel was scattered yet gathered again, so too the Church, amid persecutions under emperors like Nero and Diocletian, found strength in the promise that God saves His elect from the ends of the earth. St. Augustine, reflecting on similar themes in his City of God, draws a parallel between Jeremiah's oracle and the soul's journey through the desert of this world. Fear not, he urges, for the dismay of temporal losses pales before the eternal kingdom. The Catena of patristic voices, like those compiled in the great chains of commentary, consistently points to this verse as an anchor for the faithful: in times of invasion and uncertainty, the remnant is called to trust that the Lord will return them to their inheritance. As the early Church fathers preached in the catacombs and basilicas, they applied these words to their own flocks facing martyrdom, urging them to see in Jeremiah's prophecy the prefigurement of Christ's own command to His apostles, 'Fear not, little flock.' In this unplugged evening hour, let us examine our own hearts. What Babylon threatens our peace today? What Egypt lures us with false security? The fathers teach that dismay dissolves when we recall God's faithfulness across generations—from the Exodus to the Resurrection. May this verse settle upon your souls like the dew of night, bringing rest and renewed courage. For the Lord is with us, gathering His people even now. #FearNot220 #FearNotUNPLUGGED #086of220 #Catholic

@bscholl Indeed Blake, our cause may be just however one must still win "elections" in a country that is half filled with godless communists.

The fallacies the "Sunshine Protection Act"'s proponents commit to prevent you from figuring out what it really does. x.com/i/article/2083…

@AmyPeikoff Excellent Article Amy, congress should be debating enhancements to Standard Time and not more draconian government overreach into our daily lives. For an example check out my LNBT proposal: x.com/infool7/status…

Patrick J. Murtaugh @infool7

3 weeks ago

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@TJandCasper Don't go changing on us now John, we love seeing your posts.