Finding My Way Back Home

As many of you noticed through my writing, I have come to know Jesus and have accepted Him as my Lord and Savior. But as a child, teen, and even young adult, I scoffed at the idea, because really, I had no idea what I was missing. So here is a short story of how I came to know Jesus and if you don’t know Him the way that I do,I pray one day you will. 

I was born, baptized, and raised under the guidance of the Catholic Church. My family and I attended most Sundays and during special masses during Christmas and Easter. We said grace before every meal, and I could recite the prayers by heart. I knew of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I saw their pictures in the stained glass windows of the church each Sunday morning. I knew of Mary, the mother of Jesus, and her immaculate conception. I knew the of the saints and I knew of the stations of the cross. I took my first communion and went to Catholic schools for a little while. I knew the religion. But I didn’t really know God. I didn’t really know Jesus. I didn’t really know the Holy Spirit. I only knew that I was constantly making up for my sins. And as a child, the sins were daily.
When tragedy struck not once, but twice in my home, I could not see how I could ever make it right with God because in my mind, I could never earn the happiness that this God was supposed to bless us with. With everything going wrong, I could not believe that things would go right on this path. So I left and set out on my own path.

In college, I tried to research and find out about the different religions of the world. I knew that if I found one that “fit” me, I could find the peace in my soul that I so desperately wanted. But because I was hardened with skepticism and distrust, I could not find anything that made sense. I still knew there was a God, but I still didn’t trust him.

When I met the man that would be my husband, we fell in love almost immediately, and I we were convinced that the spirits of my loved ones had orchestrated the events that led to us meeting. We moved in together after dating for a couple of years and it was then that I felt called to return to church. So I found a small Catholic church down the street from our apartment and I would walk there on the Sundays I was home alone. I sat there and I prayed to God for guidance. All I wanted was a message of hope from the priest. But all I got was the series of stand, sit, stand, sit, kneel, sit, stand. I could recite the words, but as much as I ached for it, I could not feel the love of God in my heart. As much as I felt I had to do this to be the “good” girl, the emptiness remained. So I left again.
When the first of our three children was born, my husband and I decided that we needed to find a church. He grew up Lutheran. I grew up Catholic. We had some thinking to do. But then a friend invited us to a church unlike any we had ever been to. The music was loud – but catchy and fun. There were no pews since services were held in a theatre. There was no reciting – other than bible passages, which they put up on a huge screen! It seemed more like a show than church.
But the pastor. The pastor was on fire for Jesus. There was no doubt. I’ve never heard any of the priests get so passionate about the Son of God. And the people. The people were smiling and seemed so happy to come to church. It wasn’t just a chore they did on Sunday mornings. It was something they wanted to do. I still had my reservations, but I kept going, especially since my husband seemed to really dig it.

The more I went, the more I got to know Jesus. And God. And the Holy Spirit. They were not against me. They wanted to find me because I was just like the wayward sheep in the story of the lost sheep. My whole life I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. But here, in this church, I felt like I was home. No one forced me to stay. No one hinted that I should leave. Everyone here looked so…happy. 

I chose to stay because I wanted to learn more about this God, who sacrificed His Son to save our lives; and this Son, who willingly became mortal to lay it down for us all. And this Spirit, who burns inside of me, igniting a passion that I had never felt before. I wanted to learn more. I wanted to know more. I wanted to be free.

Unlike some others, I cannot recall the exact date that I asked Jesus to enter my heart. All I know is I did. And let me tell you, it was NOT at all angels, butterflies, and rainbows since then. No. I struggled and still struggle with my identity through Christ. It’s as if I became a child again and everything was new. I had to relearn a lot of what I thought about God and who He was with who He really is. I threw spiritual tantrums and rebelled at times, because I wanted to go back to how some things were. Secular world life was more fun and, well, being a Christian is so HARD!

But unlike before, this time I knew God was still for me. Jesus stood beside me and never left even though some of the things I did or said may have felt like a slap in the face to Him. His mercy, grace, and forgiveness of my sins triumphed anything that I threw at him out of past hurt, anger, and frustration. He sat beside me as I finally grieved over my old life, and celebrated with me when I decided to start anew.

And let me tell you, when you decide to stop being that rebellious teenager and decide to listen to and obey your Heavenly Father, oh goodness, are you in for a treat! I cannot explain the tremendous peace in my heart and within my family. I have been blessed with so much and I want nothing more than to pass those blessings on to others. Every day seems like a step closer to God. And as Jesus walks alongside me, and as I ask the Holy Spirit to continue to fill me, it just gets so much more amazing.

This is not an easy road. There will be tests, trials, and temptations. I will make mistakes. People will choose to part ways with me. I will have to choose to part ways with other people. Tragedy may yet strike again. But no matter what comes, I am already blessed. You are already blessed. I am loved. You are loved. WE are loved. And for that, I am forever grateful.