At the end of myself…
I’d forged a path into uncharted land. Certain I’d find the warmth and golden landscape of enlightenment and truth, I found myself in a dark pit of brambles, hacking away at sharp thorns of disappointment with the rusty, dull butter knife of my “logic and reasoning.”
This is what had happened when I tried things my way.
What’s amazing though is God has the heart of a good Father, unlike any parent here on earth. He never gives up on us. He sought me out. He sent messengers my way. He took my pathetic broken body out of that pit and walked beside me back to the promise of His Salvation. And He did that through the Catholic Church; the family I’d been running from for decades.
I know many of you have stories like mine. I know it seems like the last place you’d find the answers you’re looking for is this institution of “too many rules” and worse, too many messed-up people. But my way wasn’t working out so well. I was miserable. I was watching my life fall apart and had no idea how to stop it.
But my very wise mother said, “Sometimes, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelette.”
My daughter was going into second grade when it all came crashing down and some faraway voice called out, “She needs her first communion!” and “She’ll get to wear a pretty dress!” I still had a sense of femininity and picturing my daughter, walking down the aisle toward Jesus (in a pretty dress), was enough to perk my curiosity. Unsure of what I had to lose, I signed her up for catechism classes.
I leaned further into it and thought, maybe this “catechism stuff” will make more sense if I tune in as an adult. So I did.
And this…this is when I found that beautiful golden, warm truth I’d been searching for. Completely by mistake. Totally by surprise. Jesus and His beautiful face were waiting for me as I poured over my daughter’s second grade catechism book. He smiled at me in prayer and whispered, “Welcome home.”
RUAH Beloved 