My History
I came into the Catholic Church in April, 1999. I was good just in case the world ended in Y2K! I was baptized, confirmed, and had my first communion all on one Easter Vigil night.
Growing up in a little community of about 50 people, our family attended a small country church. The denomination was Church of God, a Pentecostal church.
This church was made up of very sweet, Christian people who taught me four things:
1. Who Jesus was.
2. How to pray.
3. Some really good songs.
4. How much I really look forward to pot lucks!
One thing I wish I would have learned was how to make the chicken and noodles!
I have fond memories of the church, VBS, sunrise services and breakfasts on Easter, Easter services where my sister and I would receive Easter bonnets and little purses from the Easter Bunny, Sunday School, Christmas plays, getting in front of the congregation and reciting memorized Bible verses and lots and lots of fellowship over food. I thought it was neat because we could walk to church.
But then I became a teenager.
Who wants to get up that early? My poor parents, I gave them a hard time about going. HATED Sunday School. The kids were dumb. Youth group was stupid. We moved, only 4 miles or so from the church, but we as a family, just sorta stopped going. Somehow, I still remembered to pray from time to time before I went to bed. I'm sure I was just begging God for a boyfriend, or some other want, certainly, not need.
I dabbled in the Baptist church for a year or so in high school only because my BFF was Baptist. I enjoyed her youth group because there were some really fun, cute boys. That faded, then I did nothing for about 10 years.
Fast forward college. Freshman year, a boy from Southern Indiana caught my eye. If you know anything about Southern Indiana, they are all German Catholics. He wasn't really practicing his faith but he did go to Mass with his Grandma when he went home to visit. I would sometimes go home with him to visit. When I would go to Mass, I was uncomfortable. My Love didn't really explain to me what was going on. The anxiety I felt when it came to the time to shake hands for peace! I just stayed in the pew during communion. Wasn't sure when to sit, stand or kneel. Needless to say, I had no idea what was going on and when he would say we are going to Mass, I dreaded it.
We continued dating and on May 25, 1996 we were married in the little church I described above. I should mention I was in my last year of college, so we were living in our college town. After a few months, we said "maybe we should start thinking about going to church somewhere."
So, we started 'church shopping'. We made the mistake of filling out the visitor's card. I will go back to that. After a few churches, my husband sweetly said "I can't be anything but Catholic. You do whatever you want. I'll go to Mass on Saturday and go with you where ever on Sunday."
What kind of pie do you like?
The visitor card...we had a few visits from a particular church. While we were visiting the church, we were asked what kind of pie we liked. A man from that church came to my house with a pie and his Bible. I was telling him that my husband was Catholic. He whips out his Bible and says "well, he's going to Hell because of this Bible verse and that Bible verse..." WOW! I thought "how can he condemn a person to hell without knowing them?" The next time they came knocking, I hid. I did eat the pie, however.
So, my dear husband would go to Mass, sometimes, I would go to church, never.
Big City Lights
College graduation came and I was offered a position in Indianapolis, the big city. We found a place to rent in a suburb. My husband wasn't sure if he wanted to pursue social studies teaching, so he found a job in a factory near our house. I had two jobs in the course of my first year out of school. The first was not what I thought it was, it involved processing grant claims that involved a lot of math, not my forte. I felt incompetent so I took a job as a fundraiser for a national non-profit. Whoa, not what I was expecting. I thought it would be a feel-good job. No, I was expected to work 60+ hour weeks with little pay, little direction, and the DRAMA. Plus, being the country girl that I am, 40 minutes travel (on a good day) to work for 15 miles of travel was killing me. I despised big city traffic.
Doomsday or Awakening?
It was in April, 1998 that I thought was doomsday. I had gotten up extra early because I had job testing for another place of employment. I was about 15 minutes late for work (more because of traffic) and I had two ladies waiting in my office. They were there to hand me my walking papers. WHAT? I was getting fired? NO, I am going to quit, just let me get another job first. I started crying. More because my pride was hurt not because I was sad to lose the job. As I was packing up my things, they just stood there watching me. I hated the job, but didn't want to get fired. I called my husband, my mom, my BFF. I remember weeping, not crying, but weeping, on the drive home. My husband came home for lunch and comforted me.
Tag, your it God.
On my bed, puffy eyes, red nose, the prayer I prayed I'll never forget, "I'm done. It's your turn. I don't know what I'm doing or what I want. Please tell me what to do, I'm yours."
From that day on, my life was changed.
Looking back I realize God was talking to me for awhile in the stillness of my heart. My heart WAS restless. I WAS ignoring him. I like to think that the firing was God taking me by the shoulders and shaking me saying "listen to me, I'm talking to you" (imagine a Brooklyn accent). He did me a special favor. Being fired meant no income. I applied for unemployment and wasn't sure if I would receive it because I was fired. To my surprise, they accepted it. The reason I was fired was "just cause". The unemployment office said that wasn't sufficient enough so I met with a job counselor. It wasn't what I was making but it was some income while I found another job.
I had decided maybe it was time to give the Catholics a chance. I tried other Christian denominations and never really got the connection with Jesus although having been 'saved' twice. I was never baptized as a kid. I just knew who Jesus was, He was God, Creator and prayer was important because he does listen. We started going to Mass and I started getting comfortable in the pew. I began to fall in love with the mystery, rituals, beauty, and peaceful feeling every time I left Mass. I eventually learned when to shake hands for peace.
Back to College Town
Once we moved, we found the nearest Catholic Church and started attending. I saw in the bulletin "those interested in becoming Catholic we have classes, call the church for more info." This was September. The classes had already begun. I thought about it for a hot minute and then called the rectory. A Deacon answered the phone. I'll never forget the conversation. "Yes, I want to become Catholic." "You do, do ya? Why don't you come in and talk to me first." WHAT??? NO PIE?? I can't just join? I went in and met with the Deacon. I felt like I was in a job interview. I think I convinced him that I was sincere in learning the faith so he gave me the information on the classes.
And WOW! I had missed a few classes but I got it the first class. The Church just doesn't take anyone BECAUSE you have to UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE GETTING INTO! It is her responsibility to teach the faith so to have disciples of Jesus that know the message they are spreading. Going to Mass just isn't enough. From September until I came into the church the next April, I read every book about the faith I could get my hands on. But, the biggest convincer to my conversion was the most simple, a history lesson.
Who pays attention in history class? Not me, foh-sure!
In college, I had signed up for a history class year 1500 and to present. I ended up dropping it and taking the very popular 'History of WWII' because the professor was awesome. I had world history in high school. Never remember the word Protestant Reformation or had any idea of why a college class would choose the year 1500. When the Good Monsignor taught me that the Catholic Church has been around since the death of Jesus and it was the first Christian Church, I was dumbfounded. Something so simple I never knew. I never knew that in 1517 Martin Luther posted his grumblings and then from that moment on we now have 40,000 different Christian denominations. No wonder I had a hard time choosing which church to go to. From that moment, I was convinced that the Catholic Church was the beginning and since they have lasted this long, that's where I needed to be.
I learned there is more than just the Bible in church history. I learned of the writings of the early Church Fathers that took over the history from the time of the last apostle. St. Justin Martyr, St. Irenaeus, St. Clements of Rome, St. Ignatius, St. Polycarp to name a few. I learned the Catholic Bible has 7 more books than the Protestant Bible. The books taken out talk about purgatory and intercession of saints. I recently learned Martin Luther wanted to take out one of my favorite books of the bible, James.
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| Church Fathers |
I learned how heresies were worked out, of martyrs, persecutions, discrimination, etc. The Church established by Jesus and the Bible are perfect. People are not. We are lead by sinners. What saddens me is how Catholic history is discounted. Catholics were alone for 1500 years and endured many trials and tribulations. Catholic history is not perfect, but I think it should be appreciated more. So many look at all the bad that happened rather than the every day Saints that stuck to the faith to make it still last today. I believe if this faith was not from God, it would not have lasted for almost 2000 years. Catholic means universal. It is for everyone, for every time.
The most useful information the good Monsignor taught me was "a good Catholic goes to heaven, a bad Catholic goes to hell. A good Protestant goes to heaven, a bad Protestant goes to hell." We call Protestants our separated brothers and sisters. That was so encouraging after the Catholics are going to hell speech. I learned the difference between Protestants and Catholics is tradition. Luther based his belief on Sola Scriptura, the Bible alone. Catholics use Bible AND Tradition. I learned there's SO MUCH MORE. Catholics say the 'fullness of faith'. The saints, the mystics, the supernatural, the history! I learned the Bible was assembled in the year 325 by the Catholic Church. For nearly 3 centuries, tradition kept the faith alive. I like to compare church history to that of grandparents. All Christians are family, the Catholic Church are our grandparents or ancestors
My Husband, the Revert
My husband attended the RCIA classes (Rite to Chrisitan Initiation for Adults) along with me. I think he learned as much as I did. The faith he had was that of the his teenage confirmation. He considers himself a 'revert'. I think we both learned that conversion is never ending. We need to constantly be learning our faith. Prayer, scripture and other readings on faith should be a daily occurrence.
I look back on my time as a teenager and laugh. From someone who hated Sunday School, I'm now the Director of Religious Education, First Communion teacher, Lector and on the evangelization committee. Dear husband said "I never wanted to make you feel like you had to be Catholic but I prayed you would be." His prayers were answered and our marriage is better off for it. I'm Catholic because I'm Catholic. I chose it. No one else can choose your faith for you. God gave us free will. No husband, no priest, no conspiracy, no culture, has the power to change my faith because men are not the faith, Jesus is. I pray I keep my eyes fixed on Jesus when the world crumbles around me, and my faith will not be shaken.
I should mention, we got our marriage convalidated (recognized by the church). It was a small ceremony that was so full of meaning. Totally outdid our first wedding, which was a big to-do. We attended NFP class (natural family planning) which has blessed our marriage even more. In 2000, we welcomed our first child, then we had another, and another, and one miscarriage (Baby Karol is praying for us in heaven), then another and then one more. In 2000, we also moved back to my hometown so I could stay home and raise my babies. We built our country home in the middle of a clover field.
Why, do tell...
Why do I tell my conversion story? To tell Protestants they are wrong? No, because they are not. I tell it because I want to give a living witness to what brought me to an Encounter with Jesus. We are called to help "make disciples of all nations." Maybe my story will help others on their journey.
Have you had an Encounter with Jesus? What's your conversion story? I would love to hear it. Comment below.
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