So last week this
lovely lady asked us to post our conversion story. Her timing was actually very funny. Another one of those instances where I think God was helping me a little. This is actually something I have been trying to write for some time now only to hit the delete button because it didn't turn out just right. I'm actually a very shy person. Hard to tell I know seeing as how I post all the inner workings of my female parts for all the world to read on this blog. But I really am painfully shy. I really don't like being the center of attention. It terrifies me actually. I was freaking out on my wedding day, not because I was getting married, no, I was 100% certain I was doing the right thing, but because I knew when those church doors opened everyone was going to look back at me. I'm always afraid I'll say the wrong thing, I'm afraid of what people will think, I'm afraid of being judged. I can't sleep sometimes thinking about it. It's an issue I know...and I'm trying to work on it.
So the day that the question was asked I was actually working on a post about my story. But once again, like I had so many times before, I deleted it. I kept feeling like it was too long and too detailed. But I just couldn't bare to shorten it. The truth is, I feel like an impostor. You see, I am not Catholic...yet. Although I have never said that I was, I also haven't said that I wasn't. But I'm going to be! I'm going to be real soon. And I just cannot wait!
It's been a long bumpy ride to get here. It's been so interesting to see all the things that have happened to lead me here. I feel so blessed. So, if you have some time sit back and enjoy my story. I'm sure it's going to be a long one. So don't say I didn't warn you. :)
I was not raised in a church. I do not believe that my dad believes in God and as I've mentioned before, my mother was not part of my life. My grandparents (and my dad for that matter) went to church when my dad was a child but for some reason they just quit going. My grandmother grew up Methodist and went to a Methodist church her whole childhood. My grandfather was Baptist and they went to a Baptist church after they got married.
So religion and God were not part of my everyday life. However, I never questioned that there was a God. I didn't know how to pray but I would always try at night. I'm not even sure where I got the idea for it seeing as how I was never really taught. When I was in 5th grade a friend of mine from down the street asked if I wanted to go to church with him at the local Presbyterian Church on Sunday. I was excited and ran home to tell my dad that I wanted to go. Of course he said fine, but he wasn't going. I mentioned it to my sisters and my dad's girlfriend (who was living with us at the time) and they decided to go to. After that first Sunday I was hooked. I loved being there and couldn't wait to go back. I went every Sunday and stayed after church for Sunday School. When I was finishing up 5th grade I got an invitation from the youth group to join them. I was so excited! That fall I began youth group every Sunday night. I made great friends and loved learning about Jesus. There were many Sunday's that my dad's girlfriend decided that she didn't want to go so I just figured I would walk the couple of miles there. No biggie. I figure I wanted to go and no one was going to stop me. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure why I was going, I just felt a tug and felt like I should be there.
When I was in 7th grade I decided that I wanted to get baptized and become a member of the church (Presbyterians do believe in infant baptism but as I said before, my family did not go to church). So I did. It was an amazing experience. I continued to go to church and youth and was having an amazing time. That summer I went on my first retreat with the youth and that sealed it for me. I loved Jesus and decided to give my heart to him. I felt like I was on top of the world. However, looking back, I loved Jesus, but I wasn't in love with hi,
Years went by and I continued going to church and youth. I went on many retreats, taught Sunday School, and at the Wednesday night kids program. I volunteered at Vacation Bible School and even went on a missions trip to Mexico when I was 16. I had such amazing experiences that I would not trade in for the world.
During this time I was going through absolute turmoil at home. I was at an age where not having my mom around was really hard. I loved my dad dearly but we clashed big time. He was a serious alcoholic and had even gotten two DUIs., one of which my sister was in the car. When he was drunk (which was every day) he was very difficult to deal with. He lost his job and we were now struggling even more financially than before. I had gotten a job and there were many occasions where I ended up paying the electric bill because the electricity had been turned off or payed the mortgage because my dad didn't have the money. I was dealing with the typical struggles of being a teenager and wholeheartedly believe that if it wasn't for my church family I would have taken a completely different path. Not having any sort of religious background at home left morality up for interpretation.
At the very end of my senior year of high school I met my husband. He mentioned to me right of the bat that he was Catholic (if I remember correctly I asked him if he was a Christian because I certainly wasn't going out with someone who wasn't). I was glad to hear that he went to church but was not so thrilled that he was Catholic. I did not know much about Catholicism, but in my mind it was wrong. I told my youth leader about him and she confirmed my fear that Catholics were not truly Christians (oh how misinformed I was!). From that moment on I felt it was my mission to "save" him. I invited him to church with me and was terribly offended when he left immediately to go to his church. I could not for the life of me understand why going to church with me wasn't good enough.
This went on for the first year of our relationship. Then all of a sudden my support system at church seemed to be crumbling and I was confused and felt lost. Kevin invited me to church with him one Sunday so I went. I didn't understand a lick of what was going on but continued to go with him every Sunday. I kept praying and asking God what I should do. I couldn't figure out much of what I thought God was telling me but I did feel like I should be going to church with Kevin. In my heart I felt like if we were going to get married ( although we weren't yet talking about it I knew he was the one) we needed to go to church together. This was very important to me.
Years went by and we eventually got married (only after 4.5 years :) ). Kevin and I did not go to church every Sunday. During this Kevin was sort of pulling away from the church. Even with being a cradle catholic and attending Catholic School, Kevin was not 100% sure of his faith. He did not get what he now refers to as a proper Catholic Education. He felt like he was just going through the motions. I on the other hand was searching. I knew I needed to be in church I just didn't know which one. I was constantly asking Kevin questions about Catholicism and he was never able to answer them (I asked some pretty deep ones). He would even frequently comment about how he knew nothing and I was much more knowledgeable when it came to the Bible. I saw this as my in and kept asking him to go to some other church with me. I even told him he could pick the church as long as it wasn't Catholic. He consistently said no. This just irritated me to no end! He wasn't going to church at the Catholic Church but it was still wrong for him to go to another church? There was no logic behind this in my mind. So I kept pestering him...and he kept saying no.
Little did I know, my pestering was actually working. I didn't know it at the time, but Kevin was beginning to do some major research into his faith. All of a sudden I noticed he was wanting to go to church every Sunday. I went with him begrudgingly until one Sunday the Priest said something about Protestants and I got ticked. I stopped going immediately. I always had some excuse my head hurt, I had cramps, etc. Meanwhile, Kevin was learning more and more about his faith.
Suddenly, when I would ask questions he would be able to answer them and I was learning. My hunger for God was so strong that one Sunday evening I decided to suck it up and go with him again. I haven't turned back since. The Mass we went to was the Life Teen Mass so there was a band and whatnot. I realize that this is not what is important in Mass but at the time I believe that God understood that this is what I needed to get me there. I needed to feel at home. I needed something familiar to make me feel like I wasn't such an outsider. It didn't take long and I was hooked. I began researching and trying to learn everything I could. Kevin and I started praying together and things were looking up. We started listening to Scott Hahn, Peter Kreeft, and Matthew Kelly. I was learning so much and so amazed at the amazingness (I think I made that word up) of the Church.
Then last summer Kevin heard about Napro and Creighton on one of his Catholic Answers Live pod casts. We immediately signed up and I now knew about the Catholic side of infertility. I felt like I had answers to my beliefs on fertility (my beliefs were right inline with the Church without me even realizing it). It inspired me to learn more and I felt like my infertility was bringing me even closer to Christ. For the first time in my life I was falling madly in love with Jesus. I did not just love Jesus, I was in love with Him. Something I didn't even realize I was missing.
Early in 2009 I thought and thought about talking to Kevin about taking RCIA classes. But if you remember I mentioned I was shy. There was something that just kept holding me back. I would get so close to bringing it up and then chicken out. I kept praying that God would give me the words but they never came.
In January I saw something on a blog about requesting a saint for the year. I thought, this is awesome! It will help me learn about saints and I figured God would send me one that would help me make some sort of sense of my infertility. Wrong again! :) God had better plans. The very next day I received an email stating that they don't pick the saints the saints pick you yada yada. I scrolled to the bottom eager to see who I got only to read a name I had never heard - St. Imelda Lambertini, the patron saint of first communions. I immediately knew that this was God answering one of my prayers which was "Lord help me know what to do. If I should become Catholic please open my eyes. And please God do not use subtle hints. I don't do subtlety well and need you to be obvious. Smack me on the head with it." I don't know that God could have been more obvious. However, I chose to dismiss the obviousness and email it to Kevin and ask him what he thought, playing dumb of course. :) His response...why don't you ask her why she chose you? Seriously Kevin? You were supposed to say "Hey, maybe she wants you to become Catholic." I wanted it to be that easy. I didn't want to bring it up. I was too scared.
This past Easter we decided to go to the Saturday Vigil Mass, something I had never been to. I was in tears the whole time. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. I left there so angry with myself. Angry that I hadn't told Kevin about my wishes to become Catholic. It took me another month of praying. It took me going to Mass every Sunday and trying to hold back the tears because I was unable to receive the Eucharist. Every Sunday at Mass I felt the strongest pull on my heart. It is something I cannot explain. And every Sunday during communion I heard the very audible voice of God saying to me "I am here my child. All you have to do is say that you believe."
So back in very early May I sent Kevin an IM saying that I wanted to look into RCIA. It took him awhile to respond and that made me nervous. I found out later that he was fighting back tears and had to compose himself first (he was at work). He immediately emailed Fr. Ron. They got to discussing me and Fr. Ron said I did not have to attend RCIA but instead could receive private instruction (apparently there was a document written stating the purpose for RCIA, and baptized Christians were not to take RCIA unless they never practiced their faith.) I was shocked and also overjoyed about this. The one thing I said to Kevin is that I was so angry at myself for waiting so long to talk to him about it...I did not want to wait another year to receive the Eucharist. Every day that I went without was excruciatingly painful. So after a month of emails between Kevin and FR. Ron, and the deacon who is doing my private instruction being on vacation I had my first meeting last week. We meet again tonight and will every Monday night until we both believe I am ready. He does not think it will take long so I am waiting with much anticipation.
I believe! I believe with every fiber of my being. I question everything in my life (although I did not question marrying my dh :) ). Absolutely everything. I am always terrified to make the wrong decision. But with this, I am 100% sure. I do not doubt this at all. I cannot wait to receive the body and blood of Christ. I feel like I'm finally coming home. Praise God!
And I must say to all of the blogger girls out there. So many of you have played such an important part in my conversion. I found you all when I was at one of my lowest points (I found you all long before I started a blog of my own). At a point where I was at a serious crossroads. Reading about your amazing faith and your honesty helped me get to this point. You all have a fire inside, a fire that makes people look and say "I want that!" I think that is one of the greatest testaments of faith. Having a fire inside that exudes your faith.
And to my darling husband who doesn't read my blog because I don't even think he knows it exists. Thank you. Thank you for re-falling in love with your faith so that I could find mine. Thank you for being a true example. I love you dearly.
And if I could, I would ask for prayers over the next few weeks. I'm not sure how long this is going to take. The deacon doesn't think long but you never know.
***I just skimmed this over and boy is it long! The scary thing is that I left a lot out. I left a huge part out that I plan on blogging about in the future. It's about being an example to your faith. Along my road one of the biggest things that turned me away from the Church was the examples I was shown. What I believe a Catholic to be was not a good image. It is so important to live what you believe because you never know who is watching. By being a "hypocrite" you may be turning someone, who only knows a few for examples, off.
