I was born in the late 1960's, the middle child, second daughter, of a standard family. I mean standard: my dad made a good living, my mother made do with what they had. We experienced tough financial times as well as difficult family addictions (alcoholism, dependency, and for myself, drug abuse - to an extent). My dad was a non-practicing "Christian" (he was baptised before he married my mother - her stipulation to any nuptials) and an alcoholic. My mother admittedly is not the brightest bulb in the box, but she's not stupid. She has feelings, and has her own background of life that shaped her into who she was when I was growing up. My mother was Lutheran. She still takes pride in the fact dad and her were married with a communion service - not something done too often in the Lutheran church, apparently. She always believed she was receiving Jesus - and as a Lutheran, I was taught the same thing. Of course, as a Catholic, we both know the truth about that (I came into the Church in 1996; she came into the Church in 2003? and dad followed in 2008).
I was the rebellious child. No kidding, yeah? So, my Freshman year in high school, I started to dress punk or like a Duran Duran/Depeche Mode fan. Hey, it was the 80's! I went to the ball games and got drunk with my friends. Eventually, I was introduced to pot, but I didn't ever like it (made me eat and made me sleepy - two things I abhorred). By my Junior and Senior year I was taking LSD - regularly enough to count as a problem. How I managed to not fail my classes, and, in fact, pass them with good grades is still beyond me. How I managed to not kill myself, anyone else, or seriously maim anyone or myself is still something I am grateful for to this day.
I may have been rebellious, but my other nature was a control freak. I worked at a local dry cleaners from my 16th birthday on until after I graduated. Monday through Saturday's I was at the cleaners. I had just about 90% of our several hundred customers names, phone numbers, and the way they liked their shirts starched (or not) memorized. They liked me, because I cared to know - they could come in, drop off, and not say a word. I think I liked it that way, too, to be honest. I could work faster that way.
I think it's important to note that I realized I was a contradiction on feet. I was a hard worker, I loved and cared deeply for people, but I loathed myself to an extent - the further I chose to do bad things. I knew better than that - that's why I think kids are certain they know better than to do things they do that are bad for them, but they do it anyway. My mother says she has always prayed for the three of us (my siblings and me) - so parents, keep praying for your kids - I firmly believe that is why I'm alive today and chose the better path.
I don't want to outline too much about the "boys" I dated. I'll just say there was plenty of sin in that, too. I did wait a.long.time. in the 1980's standards. I believed that at age eighteen, I could handle that adult decision. I was finishing my senior year in high school, though, so my mentality was still stuck in "it's all about me, me, me, and okay, that cute guy over there!" Just about the time I started lamenting my pain that I recognized as something I was choosing for myself, I was at my sisters wedding. I was 21. I cried at the reception as I watched her dancing with dad. I was happy for her, but I was more unhappy for me. I literally believed at that point that I was never going to get my heart's desire: marriage and kids.
Yeah, at 21! Can you imagine??? But, that is where my heart was and always has been. I loved the idea of being with ONE person for the rest of my life and making babies with him. The idea of motherhood electrified me!
A few months later I came to the realization that I had to say "no". No to myself, no to "them" and "no" to Satan, whom I was allowing to drown me with my ungodly passions. Once I resolve to do something, I do it, but that doesn't mean it's easy. It's never easy. When some guy would ask me out, I would lay it all out: there would be no shenanigans, because I was worthy of my Knight in Shining Armor. I was determined to do it God's way this time. I didn't care how long I might be in that singleton desert!
At age 22, God introduced me to my husband. A short stay in the desert, huh? What was I kvetching about, yeah? The desert I'm in now . . . just kidding, just kidding!!
Then my husband introduced me to the Catholic Church.
We were married four months later at St. Cecilia's Catholic Church in my home town in 1992.
I became Catholic in 1996, after our second child was born to us. I have to say that my RCIA experience was less than perfect, but I was signing on to this Catholic deal only because I wanted our family to be in the same religion, not because I was convinced that the Church was the one true faith. I came to that realization much later (2002, to be exact). I believed, naively, that growing up Lutheran wasn't that far off the Catholic mark. Well, it is and it isn't. But, how could I believe that when I hardly knew anything about the Lutheran faith? I mean, we had the creed, but did I believe all that?
I was a very lazy, cafeteria Catholic. My husband was also a lazy, non-practicing Catholic. It seemed at the time our only goal was to be Catholic in name - and, so we were.
Until I met some interesting, fun-loving, albeit, bordering on hating Catholic people in Georgia. They meant well - God knows that. And, I meant well, God knows that. I was so confused. We were not going to Mass regularly - we tried to get our three wee ones into CCD - it was sporadic. So. When my husband got sent to overseas unaccompanied duty, I started going to my doctor's non-denominational church. And, here, I won't go into details, because I was so all over the place and NOT Catholic, it's just pathetic. I was actually anti-Catholic by the time my husband returned to us.
My husband issued an edict: I'm taking the kids to the Catholic Church, every Sunday, and they are going to CCD to learn about their Faith. I love you and I ask you to join us. Listen, if some notable Catholics can call some of the liturgical abuse going on in our Masses "clown masses" let me tell you, my husband has permission to call the non denominational churches I attended, well-meaning as they were, CIRCUS Churches.
Gulp.
He said some other things, too, but it was LOUD so I missed most of it, but what he did say was this: I love you too much to let you go down this road. You are Catholic - I am Catholic - and I know I haven't been a good example, but I am going to change - for God, for me, for you, for our kids.
Gulpity gulp. Tears. Sorrow. Repentance. Love. Forgiveness.
We moved to the D.C. area six years ago and we have faithfully attended Mass since we moved here. I had my FIRST confession five years ago (yeah, I know, how on earth did I get to be Catholic and not do that???? As I said, there were tons of holes in my RCIA stuff - not going to point fingers - I just think it happened so I would question everything and be able to see and accept the Truth when I finally arrived there). The parish we have been attending has been our home all six years and we have been richly blessed with the people and priests here. I have learned so much!
. . . But just because I have arrived does not mean I get to stop working at it.
The difference? I now have, and now know, JOY.
May the peace of God be with you all. May you all know the Love of Our Mother and experience the care of the Saints, through Christ Our Lord.
17 comments:
Wow. I have chills, what an amazing journey! Thank you for sharing it.
Bravo! We've shared some of the same experiences - and I'm a cradle Catholic!
Wow, that was a great conversion story! I'm a convert too and I just love a good conversion story.
In JMJ,
Maurisa
Sarah, God bless you for sharing your story. It's always amazing and wonderful to hear how God brings us from so many different places to His Church. We are blessed.
(My paternal grandmother's name was Myrtle Maude, but I never had the chance to know her).
Praise Jesus for His goodness! All you have been through will surely be used for His glory. Now I'm working, like you are, to make sure my children get a much better Catholic education that I did.
What an amazing story, Sarah! For those of us who grew up in a strong Catholic home (me), I am always so pleased to hear stories such as these! God Bless!
You and me share the same story. I was 26 when I got the whamo... I get this now. Never ever too late.
I'm so glad you shared that, Sarah!! I'm always blown away at how God gets our attention, and I love hearing how others converted and found their place in the Church. Thank you also for your openness and honesty...I so get that! {{{hugs}}}
Thanks, ladies. God is good! He's brought all of us together, too, in His ultimate mysterious way!! It's not easy, as you can imagine, to put my very being in print. Mind, I did cut out a lot of my process, and just shared the bits that were central. I didn't come nearly close to the many questions and arguments as some (Scott Hahn and many that are on the Journey Home show on EWTN); but all of our stories about our walk to Christ and then with Him are wonderful.
Thanks for joining me on my journey. God bless!
I enjoyed this, Sarah! Thanks for sharing!
Thank you for sharing your story with us. It is just another way for me to get to know you better - finding out where you've come from. And it sounds like it was a long journey. But I am SO happy that you made it!
Not sure when, but someday I'll be posting my own...
Alexa - Glad to have shared.
Melissa - yes, it is a way to get to know me better, I suppose. I just love the fact that we are all broken in one way or another and that the key to the fix is Christ.
God be with all of you!
AND STAY WARM! IT'S TWELVE DEGREES HERE IN MARYLAND - THE MAINTENANCE GUY JUST SWTICHED OUT OUR FILTER AND WE'LL HAVE A WARM HOUSE TONIGHT - IT WOULDN'T GET UP PASSED 69 AND IN THIS WEATHER 69 IS FREEZING! STAY WARM AND SAFE.
what a beautifully, moving testimony sarah. i am so glad GOD chose you to join our faith. i love stories like yours, most of us have a "story", but in the end, what matters most is that we did come home, where we belong. and yes, a lot of has to do with the intercession of our loving parents in heaven, because our earthly ones are, well, they are human and sometimes they err.
btw. i am loving your blog more and more each day-no pressure for you to write-GOD and family are first! =)
happy weekend.
i'll be the one with a scrubber in one hand and a rosary in the other......
lots to do today.
Thanks for sharing your inspiring story. Life is indeed a journey. God bless.
Thanks for sharing this, Sarah...So glad to be on this crazy and wonderful journey with sisters like you!
BTW-I actually "lost" you for a while when you dropped the other blog...I didn't make the connection and am so happy that you visited me recently (or rather, my blog) so that I was able to find you again!
regan - I would post several times a day, but then, I'm trying to restrain (pace) myself. He he he.
Rosemary - it's a great journey and knowing ladies like you really make the difference!
Sewmelody - Glad to share, glad you found me . . . and boy do I feel a right git for not finishing your wee girls doll! That's IT. I swear to all that is holy, I will finish a doll and mail it very very soon. I've gotten lost and sidetracked from many a project. I will lay aside time this week to finish her up proper. I believe I still have your address. Please please please forgive me!!!
I would like to follow your blog but can not seem to do it.
please let me know how.
Thanks.
God bless,
Amy
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