I was raised in a Catholic home and attended Mass each Sunday with my family.  At church I was guided in my faith walk by our parish priests, nuns, and religious education volunteers. Outside of church, my parents and grandparents helped me have a better understanding of what I was learning.  I grew up loving God and knowing He loved me.  I was baptized as an infant, received the Sacraments of Reconciliation, First Holy Communion, and Confirmation.  I felt that I was maturing as a young Catholic adult, but one day I grew a little too big for my britches.

After I got married and moved away from my roots I felt less convicted to attend Mass.  I didn’t make time for God.  Eventually He was utterly lost in my long list of priorities and I didn’t particularly care to make the effort to find Him.  I was too consumed with self; with life.  My marriage failed and I guess you could say I knew something needed to change.  Despite my poor church attendance, I wanted to get right with God and my faith community.  I spoke with a priest and he recommended I go through an annulment process – saying it would be a healing thing for me.  In hindsight I have to say that he was right.  The annulment was granted, but as I look back at that period in my life, I don’t think I knew how to fit into the scheme of things as a divorced Catholic.  And so, my journey to explore other Christian faiths began.

My first stop was a Baptist church.  I truly enjoyed and appreciated the warmth of their welcome.  I quickly learned that this was a faith community that wasn’t just about Sundays.  Their Wednesday evenings were every bit as full.  Lots of studying going on at this church – Bible study.  And, Christian education wasn’t just for the young people.  All were encouraged to participate in Bible study and Sunday school classes.  I liked that.  I was hungry at the time and without knowing it; that’s what I was hungry for.  I needed Spiritual food.  I ate plenty here, but my journey continued.

Next, I visited an Episcopal Church.  I loved the feeling of familiarity… the reading of the Apostle’s Creed; many similarities to my Catholic upbringing.  It felt a little like being home.  It was here that I met some honest-to-goodness Spiritual giants.  I learned so much from them.  By their example I took some big faith leaps.  Not only participated in Women’s Bible study, but facilitated some myself.  Not only read the Bible, but began living it out – even trusted God to carry me to Russia to minister to children in orphanages there. I also discovered that God had blessed me with the ability to write and so I have tried to give back to him using that talent ever since. I could have stayed at this church for a very long time, if not forever – but God moved me back to my home town and the journey continued.

Back home again.  What a trip.  Binghamton, New York to Dallas, Texas (sixteen years there), then back to Binghamton once again… full-circle.  Full circle from a Spiritual standpoint too.  My new home was just a stone’s throw from the Catholic Church I grew up in.  Going back there just seemed right.  My parents are still members there, some of my sibling too.  Walking through the doors… seeing the altar, the familiar scent in the air, the stained glass windows that I admired as a child… all still there.  Yes, returning there just seemed right, and I am at peace.

I am not the same person today that I was when my Spiritual journey began.  My experience has changed me and made me richer.  Here are things I’ve learned along the way…

The God I left behind when I was so caught up in myself was there all along; waiting for my return and when I did, just like the story of the Prodigal Son, our Heavenly Father embraced me and rejoiced.  (Luke 15:11-32)

I visited a lot of churches on my journey and one thing I discovered was that Jesus is in all of them.  He is alive and well in all of them, because he is alive and well in all of His people – the living stone.

I have greater appreciation for having been raised in a Catholic-Christian home.  Not because I think it’s got an edge on the Christian market, but because it’s who I am.  My parents shared their faith with me, because their parents shared their faith with them and so on and so on.  My ancestors carried their faith across the ocean from Czechoslovakia, from Ireland, and from Germany and when they arrived on American soil built their homes and lives around their faith.  It just feels right to carry on the family tradition.

May God bless you in your Spiritual Journey.