Oh what the heck, I'm going for it....

Lately I've neglected embellishing a great deal on my faith journey on this blog. Mainly because it's very difficult at times for me to explain my faith to people. Not because it doesn't mean a lot to me, because it really does. Actually, I have a difficult time explaining to people why I rely so much on God to get me through all that life throws at me. And let me tell you, life has thrown a lot at me.

Here's what you have to understand. I was raised Methodist by my Grandma (my biological father's mother). My mother wanted to allow me to decide to be baptized when I was grown, but my Grandma wanted me to be baptized as an infant, which I was. I was born in February and baptized in June later that year. Throughout the time my Grandma took care of me as a child, she took me to church with her on Sunday's. It meant a great deal to her that I went with her to church, and she raised me to have faith. The thing is, over time it became less about me actually having faith and more about the actual idea of my being in church with her. I feel like that became more important to her than whether or not I actually believed in God. This may sound horrible on my part. I know that my Grandma wanted to raise me in the faith so that I could have a better life. My mother, though she believes in God, is not very disciplined in many aspects of her faith. I honestly can not remember the last time she went to church for something other than a wedding or baptism. And, since she is still married to my step father while living with her boyfriend, she clearly doesn't value marriage too much. My mother was raised in a Baptist family. My great uncle is actually a baptist minister. So as far as a foundation for faith, my Grandma was the one who introduced me.

And my Grandma taught my Sunday school class for many years. She opened many doors for me in the church and I have found many friends through her church. Many of the people who knew me as a small child and essentially watched me grow up I now care for. The people in my Grandma's church continue to hold a very special place in my heart, and they always will. I was confirmed in the Methodist church when I was 14 years old, and at that time I was discerning a call to ministry. At that point I was fairly certain God was calling me to ordained ministry. But, over time some things happened and I became more distant from my Grandma's church. The minster wanted me to do some lay speaking in a town not far from where I live because their very small church did not have a pastor. However, when I spoke at this church, I did not feel well equipped. I felt that I did not have enough life experience to provide spiritual guidance and a sermon to people with far more life experience than I.

Meanwhile, God was working through Papa to show me another way. Catholicism. At first I was very intrigued by the thought. But then I wasn't sure. There were many things that helped lead me to the Catholic faith and decide that it was what was right for me. Here is one of them:

Mary, the mother of Jesus. During this particular time in my life, I began to start seeing my mother for who she truly is, and has been for most of my life. It was a very difficult time, especially since I was also in a very dark place emotionally. My mother had the doctors convinced that I was depressed and was very cold in dealing with the many emotional meltdowns I had. The emotional meltdowns were almost always brought about by the circumstances caused by my living situation. During that time, I was still living with my mother and step father and sister. My mother and step dad were still together but times were hard. They fought a lot and there were lots of dark times. Anyway, I didn't realize at the time that God was doing what He was doing.

Shortly after meeting my Papa, he began to teach me the Rosary, along with his parents (Grandma and Grandpa W.) This was unintentional, actually. Praying the Rosary was something they did together every day. I picked up on some of the prayers because I was taught many of them throughout my childhood. Shortly thereafter, I began praying the Rosary along with them, and in July 2008, they bought me my very first Rosary. I also wasn't aware then of how powerful the Rosary would be in my life.

The Blessed Virgin holds a very special place in my heart. She has been called the "mother of the motherless", and I can't help but thinking I fell under the "motherless" category. In fact, for a great deal of time, I prayed that Mary would help lead me to a mother figure that would help fill the void in my life. Granted, having adopted mothers does not replace having an actually supportive biological mother, but it sure helps. And through the Blessed Virgin's intercession, I have found two very special people that have begun taking an active role in supporting me as a mother would. They are both my adopted mothers and I love them very much. I greatly appreciate that they opened their heart to my needs.

I thought I would start trying to unlock a little bit of the "mystery" behind my conversion. This will be the first of a few blog posts regarding my faith journey.