A Season of Holy Reordering
- Hannah Molitor
- Jan 17
- 6 min read
Hi! I am Hannah Molitor, and I am so excited to be joining my sisters Leah and Abby at Catholic Country Chronicles.
I grew up on a dairy farm alongside my seven sisters in Central Minnesota, where I am still active on the farm today. Outside the farm, I work at the USDA Farm Service Agency, serving farmers across my county by administering federal safety-net programs. I also work for the Minnesota Dairy Herd Improvement Association as an on-farm field technician, spending time on dairy farms collecting herd data and milk samples to help farmers make day-to-day management decisions for their herds.
What I value most about my work in agriculture is being in a position where I can build real relationships with these farmers and have honest, meaningful conversations about the challenges and blessings of rural life.
I’m excited to have a voice here to talk about Catholic rural living and what it looks like to live out our beliefs in farming communities and small towns.
One thing about me is that I love bringing people together and creating space for good conversations. Sometimes that’s game nights with friends, other times it's women gathered around my kitchen table for our biweekly group, or bigger gatherings like themed parties and barn dances. Honestly, I think the Holy Spirit knows I’ll say yes to hosting something before I do.
My love for people and the relationships around me is a big part of how I look back on this past year. Stepping into this next chapter with Catholic Country Chronicles has had me reflecting on where I’ve been and thinking about what’s next.
Looking back at 2025, I asked the Holy Spirit to help me identify some of the blessings that came out of 2025. What were some of the hard things from 2025? In what ways will he use me in 2026?
My word for 2024 was hope. I carried that word straight into 2025, which felt especially fitting when the Jubilee Year (2025) was proclaimed the Year of Hope. I started 2025 full of anticipation, trusting that something good was unfolding and that God was moving, even if I couldn’t quite see how yet.
However, if I’m being honest, I didn’t end 2025 with that same sense of hope.
I usually love Advent and the sense of Hope that comes with it. Advent has always felt like a season of anticipation and knowing that something bigger than us is about to happen. This year, though, I didn’t allow myself to fully enter into Advent. I rushed through the stillness. I kept going when my heart was clearly asking me to pause.
By the time Christmas and New Year’s arrived, I was surrounded by the people I love most, and yet there was a lingering void I couldn’t fully explain. Nothing was wrong; it was a great Christmas, but something still felt unfinished. Maybe that was part of what God was trying to show me.
My word for 2025 was peace, and peace did come, just not always in the ways I expected. Early in the year, I found a deep, unexpected sense of peace through Magnify 90.
If you’re not familiar with it, Magnify 90 is a spiritual reset for women for the 90 days leading up to Easter. It's a season of prayer, sacrifice, and stepping away from distractions so you can actually hear the Lord again. I didn’t go into it expecting anything dramatic, but it ended up changing me in ways I didn’t see coming. I loved who I was during that time. I loved how steady and clear everything felt when I put the Word of God first and let everything else fall in line behind it.
And then later in the year, peace showed up again in a completely different way during furlough. As a federal employee, I was furloughed for 43 days.
With my normal schedule out the window, I finally had time to lean into my charism of hospitality without squeezing it between meetings and chores. I was hosting and inviting people into my home more, helping my loved ones more, and saying yes to last-minute plans. I was reminded of how much joy I get from simply showing up for the people I love, and I had more time to do more of it!
And honestly, I rediscovered parts of myself I had shoved aside because life was just too busy. Furlough reminded me that peace doesn’t always look like calm music and candles. Sometimes it looks like God hitting the pause button for you because He knows you won’t.
There were also so many moments in 2025 where I could clearly see the Holy Spirit at work through me for the sake of others. God kept using my charisms of leadership and connectedness in ways that just felt like me being myself.
One of the biggest examples was the Central MN Catholic Singles Jingle Mingle this past December, which a friend and I had organized. We thought maybe a handful of people would show up… and instead, eighty-four people walked through the door. Eighty-four single Catholics from Central Minnesota! Catholics do, in fact, know how to commit when the Holy Spirit invites.
It was one of those moments where you just sit back and think, “Okay, Lord, you definitely had this one.”
And then there were the quieter moments, the ones nobody claps for, where God simply nudged me to show up in small ways, and those mattered just as much.
There were moments when the Holy Spirit simply nudged me to help, and I said yes without fully realizing the impact it might have. Small moments like showing up at the last minute so my sister and her husband could attend Mass together on Christmas Day.
God isn’t looking for perfect plans from us. He just needs us to be willing and actually show up. He then takes it from there.
Not every blessing is filled with joy. But the Lord showed up in big ways, even when I did not immediately recognize what He was doing.
2025 also brought some unexpected hurt and disappointment I didn’t see coming. There were places close to my heart where I trusted deeply and assumed I belonged, only to realize important conversations and decisions were happening without me, and moments where I was quietly forgotten. In prayer, I began to see it as an invitation to loosen my grip on where I thought I fit and trust that the Holy Spirit was gently leading me somewhere else, even if I couldn’t see it yet.
I grieved changes on the farm. I have been involved in my family's dairy farm my entire life. 2026 is bringing big changes to our farm, and I had to learn to let go of what had always been familiar to me. Even though I had already begun stepping into a new season of my own life, those changes still affected me more deeply than I expected. The family farm is not just a place to me. It is a part of my history and identity.
As I prayed through all of this, the Lord gently reminded me that not all hurt is meant to be carried forward. Sometimes it looks like redirection.
“A seat at the table given by man can be taken away, but a calling given by God cannot”.
What sometimes feels like being overlooked is often an invitation to loosen our grip and trust Him more deeply.
As I step into 2026, my word for the year is revolution, and my saint of the year is St. Michael the Archangel. This feels intentional, like God is quietly preparing me for a year of courage, clarity, and a little reordering.
In 2026, I want to stop chasing space and start creating the space that the Holy Spirit is actually nudging me toward, not just for myself but for others as well. I want to show up in ways that feel genuine, to serve without accidentally losing myself in the process. To lead with grace, and to love and pour into places where the Holy Spirit is truly moving.
I’m walking into 2026 more rooted. I truly believe the Holy Spirit will continue to work through my charisms of service, connection, and hospitality, creating moments where people feel welcome, seen, and known. Sometimes that looks like gatherings and events, and sometimes it's just the quiet, everyday way He nudges me to show up.
Until next time, your sister in Christ,
Hannah
