My relationship with the Catholic faith is a love story- truly.
The beginning (we meet;))- Every Sunday my mom took us to church. We received the sacraments and went to church. That is it. I don't say that to be critical of my wonderful mom. That is what she knew, and that is what she did with us. But, she did it. Every single Sunday- rain, shine, snow, or sleet (I was raised in Ohio)- my mom got up and drove us kids to church. I knew nothing of what was going on, of what any of the sacraments that I received meant, or even why I went to church other than some vague knowledge that it had something to do with God. This makes me think I must have been a pretty dense child! But, really, don't underestimate that graces that came from my mom's efforts. I did not know the church, but I had met her.
Next was an awakening to Jesus, who He is, and that I wanted something to do with Him. This took me on a few detours around the Catholic church. After being married and having a few little ones, our church attendance was spotty at best. I did, however, start attending a bible study at a Baptist church. That was a move in a positive direction! God's word!
At that same bible study a lovely older lady gifted me a children's book, "Wise Words for Little People", based on proverbs. Now I was going to bible study and sharing God's word with my children.
It reminds me that I am the "older lady" now and I should keep my eyes out for the young moms who need encouragement!
Another book recommendation brought me one more small step toward an understanding of being a Christian (particularly a Christian mom), "A Mother's Touch". I don't remember the details of this book, but the author's love of Jesus, her passion for her children, and the legacy of her own mother touched me. Shortly after this awakening we began attending a non-denominational church.
I don't know really how that step impacted me. It was a small intimate church that exuded the faith and family values. I don't remember learning or growing too much. I was a young mom and wife in the middle of raising three little girls who were born within a three year span, so not much beyond surviving was on my mind. This little church gave us shelter.
Then. The big then. Our oldest daughter was of the age to begin preparations for First Holy Communion and hubby told me that we need to get her signed up for classes so that she can do so. Huh?! I did not leave the Catholic church in any violent protest. I just did not know the Church. It did not occur to me that we would go back.
At any rate, hubby insisted. My response- "OK. But if we are going to be Catholic, we are going to learn about our faith and practice all of it. If anything comes up that we don't feel comfortable with, we're leaving. It is all or nothing." To this day, I don't know why these words came out of my mouth. I had no idea what I even meant. And poor hubby probably did not either, but he readily agreed.
We registered at our local parish, signed up for FHC classes and were on our way. We were Catholic!
Only... after a few years, strange things were happening. I was beginning to like what I knew of the Church but I was struggling with some things that were being preached. Not matters of the faith- matters that I was pretty sure were not of this faith.
Having no real understanding or knowledge in this area, I have to say that it was God's grace prompting me. My first step was call my sister in law (who was a few steps ahead of me in this process).
Each week, I would ask her if this or that was correct. I would tell her that it seemed odd, but that I wasn't sure. After several weeks of this, she asked me if I owned a "Catechism of the Catholic Church". "Huh? What's that?" :) By the end of the day, I did.
To be continued...
The beginning (we meet;))- Every Sunday my mom took us to church. We received the sacraments and went to church. That is it. I don't say that to be critical of my wonderful mom. That is what she knew, and that is what she did with us. But, she did it. Every single Sunday- rain, shine, snow, or sleet (I was raised in Ohio)- my mom got up and drove us kids to church. I knew nothing of what was going on, of what any of the sacraments that I received meant, or even why I went to church other than some vague knowledge that it had something to do with God. This makes me think I must have been a pretty dense child! But, really, don't underestimate that graces that came from my mom's efforts. I did not know the church, but I had met her.
Next was an awakening to Jesus, who He is, and that I wanted something to do with Him. This took me on a few detours around the Catholic church. After being married and having a few little ones, our church attendance was spotty at best. I did, however, start attending a bible study at a Baptist church. That was a move in a positive direction! God's word!
At that same bible study a lovely older lady gifted me a children's book, "Wise Words for Little People", based on proverbs. Now I was going to bible study and sharing God's word with my children.
It reminds me that I am the "older lady" now and I should keep my eyes out for the young moms who need encouragement!
Another book recommendation brought me one more small step toward an understanding of being a Christian (particularly a Christian mom), "A Mother's Touch". I don't remember the details of this book, but the author's love of Jesus, her passion for her children, and the legacy of her own mother touched me. Shortly after this awakening we began attending a non-denominational church.
I don't know really how that step impacted me. It was a small intimate church that exuded the faith and family values. I don't remember learning or growing too much. I was a young mom and wife in the middle of raising three little girls who were born within a three year span, so not much beyond surviving was on my mind. This little church gave us shelter.
Then. The big then. Our oldest daughter was of the age to begin preparations for First Holy Communion and hubby told me that we need to get her signed up for classes so that she can do so. Huh?! I did not leave the Catholic church in any violent protest. I just did not know the Church. It did not occur to me that we would go back.
At any rate, hubby insisted. My response- "OK. But if we are going to be Catholic, we are going to learn about our faith and practice all of it. If anything comes up that we don't feel comfortable with, we're leaving. It is all or nothing." To this day, I don't know why these words came out of my mouth. I had no idea what I even meant. And poor hubby probably did not either, but he readily agreed.
We registered at our local parish, signed up for FHC classes and were on our way. We were Catholic!
Only... after a few years, strange things were happening. I was beginning to like what I knew of the Church but I was struggling with some things that were being preached. Not matters of the faith- matters that I was pretty sure were not of this faith.
Having no real understanding or knowledge in this area, I have to say that it was God's grace prompting me. My first step was call my sister in law (who was a few steps ahead of me in this process).
Each week, I would ask her if this or that was correct. I would tell her that it seemed odd, but that I wasn't sure. After several weeks of this, she asked me if I owned a "Catechism of the Catholic Church". "Huh? What's that?" :) By the end of the day, I did.
To be continued...
2 comments:
Look forward to hearing more of your story! The grace of the Sacraments were definitely leading you home without you knowing it:) I am a
re-vert myself with a similar upbringing of faith. I am now determined that my children "know" what their faith means, not just go through the motions. Thank you for sharing and Happy Pentecost and Birthday of the Church!
Lori, I'm only now getting around to reading your lovely story. It's been on my mental list of things to do). now to part two . . .
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