Where I’m coming from:

My faith has been with me all along.. Sometimes I wonder where it really came from. When I was a kid, everyone around me talked about God. My family were always big believers, and I’ll always be incredibly grateful for that kind of conviction that was just always there. On Friday nights my parents, uncles, and aunts and all of the little people that came along would gather at my grandparents house for a weekly get-together/bible study. My dad’s side of the family is… I don’t think there’s really a tactful way to say - LOUD. Loud in a really wonderful way. They would read the different passages and “discuss” (mostly argue) about the interpretation. My older sister who was typically in a hurry to be one of them, or really just to grow up, would sit in with the adults and argue away. Not me though. I would sit a room away near all the snacks and treats, and color quietly on the dining room table. But I would listen. I could pull apart all the different voices… My Papa.. my uncles.. my dad… and every once in a while - my big sister. Maybe that was the beginning… where it all kind of seeped in. I didn’t even realize that sitting there, coloring in one of the coloring books my grandma would put aside for us kids when we were over.. snacking on whatever deliciousness was near.. that something was being formed in me. That I was connecting. All those loud, comforting voices arguing with love in the next room for hours.. I was getting little bits of my faith in God instilled in me, and I had no idea.

I was told from a young age that God is my best friend, and I should talk to him as such. That will never leave me. Our family regularly would attend the Harvest Crusade, and it was a highlight of every year for sure. Seeing so many believers, and non believers coming together to listen to the stories people would tell. To try and be open to the holy spirit. Even as a kid, some of those stories would strike me so hard. I would break down and cry… and at the end of all the speakers and beautiful music, Pastor Chuck would ask if you wanted to let Jesus into your heart, to come down to the field (at the Angels stadium) and even though I knew I had done that a long time ago.. my sister and I would always run eagerly down the steps and onto the field.. there was the most amazing feeling on that field.. You could feel that God was there in a massive way. So many people standing together.. embracing their loved ones.. embracing the stranger beside you.. crying quietly.. My childhood life was filled with the love of Christ. I am forever thankful for that.

While I maintained a faithful prayer life with God, my family’s relationship with attending church slowly faded. After my Papa passed away, our family was changed in a way that couldn’t be repaired. Our get togethers grew further and further apart. Before that, it was like our family and faith in God were tied together. I lost some of that spark for a while. Although I would still talk to God, my very best friend every day, there was something that had been lost for a while.

Somewhere in this time, I met the boy who would one day become my husband. Paul grew up with zero religion. Very different from me to say the least. His family believed in God, and I know this because every once in a while you’d hear about that belief when someone had done them wrong. “Oh… God is going to deal with them…” they’d say. I think it’s good that they would mention our Lord here and there I guess… something is better than nothing. I would talk about God here and there with him. Not nearly enough. I could’ve done so much more.

When we moved in together with Paul’s sister for a few months, that’s when things started to happen. Paul’s sister Lisa had become heavily involved in her local protestant church, and invited us to join her on Sundays. A small branch of Calvary Chapel! I could feel home starting to call me back. Paul was happy to attend as he was always searching for something more. He was open. His heart was, and is still open to God. I will always love that about him. So we began attending weekly. It was so comforting to sit in our seats each Sunday and listen to God’s message. It was like having a small part of my family put back together after such a long time apart. We were happy there. But it was short lived.

During this time, Paul’s older brother Andrew had started his journey to become Catholic. He lived states away, but would keep in touch with Lisa and Paul via email and phone calls. With Paul’s newfound religion that tends to push back against Catholicism in every way possible, his brother running towards this faith that we didn’t understand, but KNEW we couldn’t agree with, really got under his skin. He wanted Andrew to follow God in the best, and most correct way as he believed he was. So they would argue. Paul would argue about all the typical things the Protestant faith poses against the Catholic faith. “Why do you worship Mary?” “Why do you pray to the dead?” “Why do you depict Jesus up on the cross still suffering?” “Why do you worship statues?” and on and on. With each push back, Andrew would send a thorough response that sounded… logical. Paul in a frustrated state, made an appointment with our pastor’s second in command to go over these issues. So we went. Paul brought all the papers we had printed out to be sure we could get the answers to all our questions. Paul would say, “What about here where Andrew had said this or that, and this man sitting behind his large desk in his office at the church we’ve since grown to admire and trust fully would read for a moment and just laugh. “Ohhh boy…” he’d say. “Man oh man… you just have to pray for him…” THAT’S IT. That’s all we got. No answers. Because as we now know - he had none. We began to feel that this may not be the church for us for a number of reasons that I’ll get into another day. But we weren’t looking into the Catholic church at all either.

Some months later, Paul’s mother had another heart attack (she had had many for as long as I’d known their family.) This was a big one. We were told that she wouldn’t live much longer, and we should all be there with her one last time. Side note: she actually ended up living for years after this, thank the Lord. So we all went. This weekend was great, and also a huge disaster. So many big personalities with conflicting views in one tiny two bedroom house for a couple of days. It was… interesting. One of these nights, something miraculous happened. As Andrew was studying, Paul wondered out into the living room and they had time to talk. They talked for hours. God worked through Andrew that night, and the next morning, Paul had so much to discuss with me. While he was getting some answers that had been plaguing him, I was getting to know my soon to be sister-in-law. She was the instigator. And I mean that in the most loving way. Melissa grew up as a devout Catholic, and came from a large family. She was, and still is, a light in this world. Something emanates from her soul. She exudes grace and love. And for me - it was her that helped me start to see the compassion, and forgiveness, and a never ending love for Jesus within this sacred religion. That was the weekend that started it all.

We’ve been Catholic now for 13 years, and I am so truly in love with the traditions and ways the Church worships and loves our God. I can’t believe I went on for so long without knowing the saints, and I just want to keep that feeling forever. I want to keep that fire lit bright within my soul for Jesus, and for prayer, and for the Mass… but I am human, and I fail often. This whole idea for me: this blog + instagram and whatever else - I wanted this to be an outlet. A way to document and stay accountable. I have many goals but they are all (as they should be) centered around God. I have so many changes I want to make in my life, but they start here. Starting with readings each night with our children followed by a rosary. That’s where I’m starting. I’ve also committed to reading something related to God each night before bed to end my days while thinking of him. Small goals, but I’m taking all the changes step by step. Eventually… we’ll run.