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TrueLight
Guest
I have a poll…somewhere.
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Marie5890
Guest
Your story brought tears to my eyes.
God Bless you both. And thank you for sharing.
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RedSoxWife
Guest
My mom and dad were raised presbyterian and methodist and my grandparents switched to the lutheran church because “the food was better” so our family was pretty open to any protestant denomination. When I was eight they became friends with the pastor of our local church and so I was raised Southern Baptist (nothing formal before that).
I fell away from any belief in college (I went to a CINO because of a scholarship), was agnostic, then explored Buddhism, and then agnostic again. While the school I attended was incredibly liberal, with a “former” brother getting up in my Biblical Lit class and saying “Jesus never claimed he was divine” there was a priest that used to come by the pool that I worked at somewhat frequently and he ways always so kind and understanding. He definitely seemed to sense the turmoil I was going through and would take time to talk to me. I think the time that he took really laid the ground work for my conversion later on, because it left me with a positive impression of Catholicism.
When I met my husband he hadn’t been to Mass regularly in years, but he was adamant that he would never be anything other than Catholic. We began, slowly, learning more about his faith. We attended an engaged encounter where we never were told contraception was wrong, and the RCIA class I was in was equally watered down (I’d been confirmed before I saw in a book that it was against Church teaching and was completely shocked… and went straight to confession).
That was probably two years after I’d started considering joining the Church. It was after I’m been confirmed and was had been attending Mass regularly for a while (when I was confirmed I had accepted the authority of the Church, I just hadn’t been given all the piece of the puzzle to understand how I was supposed to live). After that I started reading everything I could get my hands on. My DH began a MA in Theology program and I read his papers and his books too when I had time.
I’m not sure I can p(name removed by moderator)oint an exact moment when I converted, because now I feel like my understanding was still so limited even when I was formally accepted into the Church, although I was genuine in my desire to learn. I think one of the biggest moments was when I was in RCIA and we read the whole “keys to the kingdom” conversation and it felt like years of questions that I had were answered and I understood how we could really know if something was right or wrong.
I fell away from any belief in college (I went to a CINO because of a scholarship), was agnostic, then explored Buddhism, and then agnostic again. While the school I attended was incredibly liberal, with a “former” brother getting up in my Biblical Lit class and saying “Jesus never claimed he was divine” there was a priest that used to come by the pool that I worked at somewhat frequently and he ways always so kind and understanding. He definitely seemed to sense the turmoil I was going through and would take time to talk to me. I think the time that he took really laid the ground work for my conversion later on, because it left me with a positive impression of Catholicism.
When I met my husband he hadn’t been to Mass regularly in years, but he was adamant that he would never be anything other than Catholic. We began, slowly, learning more about his faith. We attended an engaged encounter where we never were told contraception was wrong, and the RCIA class I was in was equally watered down (I’d been confirmed before I saw in a book that it was against Church teaching and was completely shocked… and went straight to confession).
That was probably two years after I’d started considering joining the Church. It was after I’m been confirmed and was had been attending Mass regularly for a while (when I was confirmed I had accepted the authority of the Church, I just hadn’t been given all the piece of the puzzle to understand how I was supposed to live). After that I started reading everything I could get my hands on. My DH began a MA in Theology program and I read his papers and his books too when I had time.
I’m not sure I can p(name removed by moderator)oint an exact moment when I converted, because now I feel like my understanding was still so limited even when I was formally accepted into the Church, although I was genuine in my desire to learn. I think one of the biggest moments was when I was in RCIA and we read the whole “keys to the kingdom” conversation and it felt like years of questions that I had were answered and I understood how we could really know if something was right or wrong.
H
HonoraDominum
Guest
I was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, also known as the Mormons or the LDS church. I was LDS until I was about 21. Until this point, my testimony was strong. I really never doubted the church up until this point. Then, long story short, I got a hold of some “anti” literature, read anti literature like a fiend, and became “inactive” in the church. My testimony came tumbling down like a pile of bricks. It was gone … all gone. Not only my testimony in the Book of Mormon, but of God, and of Christ and the truthfulness of the Bible.
After leaving the church with my (then) boyfriend, and then breaking up with said boyfriend, I started going to the Catholic church and attending RCIA classes. I never had any formal initiation into the Catholic church at this time, nor did I go to classes for very long. But I knew I was drawn to the Catholic church.
For whatever reason, I can’t remember what (it probably involved my social life), I stopped going. I got out of college, and dabbled in Wicca for about a year or so. While I never joined a coven, I read like crazy about it. I also attended a Unitarian Universalist church for a while.
When I was almost 27, I had a bit of a “Come to Jesus” moment with my life and I decided to give the Mormon church one more try. Just one. But I was going to do it right this time. I went to a singles ward, paid tithing, prayed constantly and fervently, held callings, and even went through the temple to receive my endowments. This is a very serious commitment for any Mormon to take. I did this for three years and – nothing. No validation of God, or of Christ, or of the truth of the church.
I gave up hope in ever gaining a testimony. I went to the Temple over and over, and cried in the Celestial room, begging and praying for just a smidgen of a testimony. I knew I was doing everything I was supposed to be doing, and yet I was not being given an answer. Each week of friendlessness in the Singles Wards was taking its toll on my self esteem, and I held out for all hope that “my missionary” would come back and help me to restore the testimony that I was again quickly losing. I knew that if I just had a testimony, all the work, all the pain, all the sacrifice and time would be worth it. I knew I could hold out hope, with no friends, no love, no fulfilling of promises, if I could just gain that testimony. If never-mo’s could gain it after reading just a part of the scriptures and praying with missionaries, why could I not receive this one, simple promise?
I have a long story about why I left the Mormon church for good, but here’s the short version. I stopped going for a couple of months due to a very bad bout of agoraphobia, so when I started feeling better and went back to church, I went to the Bishop to get on the right track to get my Temple Recommend renewed. I knew that “my missionary” was coming back (I had waited over a year at this point to see a missionary from UT who served in TX, and we had started corresponding) and wanted to be temple-worthy, at least on paper, for when we saw each other again. The bishop acted in a way that was so harsh and abrupt, and not in a loving way, that I went to the Relief Society president and cried for an hour. Very soon after that, the missionary I had fallen so hopelessly in love with came back to visit his mission area, and with both of us free and single, I realized that it was never ever going to happen. With my testimony long-gone, my doubt of the authority of the priesthood changed to total certainty of its falsehood, and the final thread of hope for Mormon love gone, I found no more reason to continue to attend the Mormon church. This was in 2000.
I went to a Catholic wedding in October of 2005, and while I was sitting there, I was so jealous of people who got to go partake of the Eucharist. I wanted to experience that. I felt this … warmth, this serenity sitting there in the chapel. And then in this big cascade, switches started getting flipped. I could do this. I could go to a Catholic church EVERY WEEK if I wanted! I could get baptized if I wanted! I could learn about the Catholic church! I could feel this good all the time. I could do this every week, every day. I can be a part of this. I was in RCIA two weeks later, and baptized at Easter Vigil 2006.
After leaving the church with my (then) boyfriend, and then breaking up with said boyfriend, I started going to the Catholic church and attending RCIA classes. I never had any formal initiation into the Catholic church at this time, nor did I go to classes for very long. But I knew I was drawn to the Catholic church.
For whatever reason, I can’t remember what (it probably involved my social life), I stopped going. I got out of college, and dabbled in Wicca for about a year or so. While I never joined a coven, I read like crazy about it. I also attended a Unitarian Universalist church for a while.
When I was almost 27, I had a bit of a “Come to Jesus” moment with my life and I decided to give the Mormon church one more try. Just one. But I was going to do it right this time. I went to a singles ward, paid tithing, prayed constantly and fervently, held callings, and even went through the temple to receive my endowments. This is a very serious commitment for any Mormon to take. I did this for three years and – nothing. No validation of God, or of Christ, or of the truth of the church.
I gave up hope in ever gaining a testimony. I went to the Temple over and over, and cried in the Celestial room, begging and praying for just a smidgen of a testimony. I knew I was doing everything I was supposed to be doing, and yet I was not being given an answer. Each week of friendlessness in the Singles Wards was taking its toll on my self esteem, and I held out for all hope that “my missionary” would come back and help me to restore the testimony that I was again quickly losing. I knew that if I just had a testimony, all the work, all the pain, all the sacrifice and time would be worth it. I knew I could hold out hope, with no friends, no love, no fulfilling of promises, if I could just gain that testimony. If never-mo’s could gain it after reading just a part of the scriptures and praying with missionaries, why could I not receive this one, simple promise?
I have a long story about why I left the Mormon church for good, but here’s the short version. I stopped going for a couple of months due to a very bad bout of agoraphobia, so when I started feeling better and went back to church, I went to the Bishop to get on the right track to get my Temple Recommend renewed. I knew that “my missionary” was coming back (I had waited over a year at this point to see a missionary from UT who served in TX, and we had started corresponding) and wanted to be temple-worthy, at least on paper, for when we saw each other again. The bishop acted in a way that was so harsh and abrupt, and not in a loving way, that I went to the Relief Society president and cried for an hour. Very soon after that, the missionary I had fallen so hopelessly in love with came back to visit his mission area, and with both of us free and single, I realized that it was never ever going to happen. With my testimony long-gone, my doubt of the authority of the priesthood changed to total certainty of its falsehood, and the final thread of hope for Mormon love gone, I found no more reason to continue to attend the Mormon church. This was in 2000.
I went to a Catholic wedding in October of 2005, and while I was sitting there, I was so jealous of people who got to go partake of the Eucharist. I wanted to experience that. I felt this … warmth, this serenity sitting there in the chapel. And then in this big cascade, switches started getting flipped. I could do this. I could go to a Catholic church EVERY WEEK if I wanted! I could get baptized if I wanted! I could learn about the Catholic church! I could feel this good all the time. I could do this every week, every day. I can be a part of this. I was in RCIA two weeks later, and baptized at Easter Vigil 2006.
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DaveBj
Guest
It was November 2003 when I had my first “Oh my! There may be something to this!” moment. It took 7 months of study, thinking, and prayer before I made an appointment with the parish priest in June 2004 to declare my intention to become Catholic (the same day as my appointment, my wife made her first Confession since the mid-80s and returned to the Church. I started RCIA in September (a big waste of time), and was finally confirmed in March 2005.
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tskrobacz
Guest
As God is infinitely knowable…it will take your entire life.
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KimberlyAnn0218
Guest
I did an “RCIA” ( it wasn’t called that at the time) program at my university after I became engaged to my Catholic boyfriend. I grew up United Methodist. In a few short months I was Catholic. ACCEPTING, and PRACTICING came 16 years later 
Kim
Kim
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anp1215
Guest
I became interested in Catholicism around Easter of 2010 along with my husband. We enrolled in RCIA in July and were scheduled to come into the Church Easter Vigil 2011. However, a couple days before the Vigil I decided not to come into the Church (long story) and my husband went along with me (I think he was just going along with me for the bulk of everything). After bouncing around to a few different churches for a few months, I felt like I did indeed belong to the Catholic Church, and so I contacted the RCIA people and told them I decided after all I wanted to join. So I’m coming into the Church…tomorrow!
My husband is not, but I say to him, “I know one day you will come into the Church, and I can be your sponsor. It will happen one day.” and he says “I know it will.” He says he is just not ready. He says he doesn’t have any major problems with any of the doctrines except transubstantiation. He just can’t wrap his mind around it, but I know he will get there one day. That is a tough one to grasp.
My husband is not, but I say to him, “I know one day you will come into the Church, and I can be your sponsor. It will happen one day.” and he says “I know it will.” He says he is just not ready. He says he doesn’t have any major problems with any of the doctrines except transubstantiation. He just can’t wrap his mind around it, but I know he will get there one day. That is a tough one to grasp.
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Della
Guest
Not to take the thread off topic, however I feel it may help your husband if you have him meditate on these words: “Did Jesus mean what he said when he said, ‘This is my body…this is my blood.’” That is the key. I just felt prompted to write that. I hope it helps.
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onjac
Guest
There was a never a point at which I didn’t believe in Catholicism. My father is Catholic. He got my mom interested in becoming Catholic and he enrolled me into a Catholic School in junior high and later this public high school where there was a fair number of kids with a Catholic background.*
With the exception of my father, the rest of my family still isn’t officially Catholic. He didn’t baptise me becuase he wanted me to make a personal choice. My parents say that there they were always too busy to get the rest of the family enrolled in RCIA. But the truth is, there was also laziness involved and sometimes my father became violent and spew out all these hateful things and the rest of the family was dragged along. *My Catholic religion teachers weren’t qualified to explain what the Church was about based on what I remember. Religion class was always mechanical and straight from the workbooks. Some of my Catholic classmates obviously didn’t respect the Church and would brag, instance, how they lied in Confession to provokea reaction in our priest. And I heard a lot of bashing towards the Catholic Church. I felt frustrated, to say the least.
My parents made me read a book on Medjugorje. I believed in it and I liked but I wasn’t*interested in reading it over and over like my parents do. And for some reason, even though *there was a Newman Center at a fellow university nearby, I never ended up taking a RCIA class even though I hung around there.
A few times this summer, my parents took me to a Healing Mass. I like the Mass but I also felt a bit embarrassed by how my parents always chasing after the priest when there was a queue of people who obviously undergone so much suffering. But I did decide to get a Blessing and I went up two times. I was pleasantly surprised by how warm and loving this priest was.
I noticed later on that I felt this deep peace within myself. All the frustration and unhappiness was gone.
Later on I was on Google and I recalled this moment back in school when Pope Benedict*XVI was elected. There were a few Catholics who said that they didn’t like the new Pope because he was German, he was too conservative *and didn’t look like a kind grandfather like Bl. JPII was. I remember saying to myself to myself that “No! He must be a great guy”.
The next thing I knew, I was on Amazon looking for any books about him and found that there were books written be him. Even better!
I was hunting through the bookstores and then finally, I went to the library at the Newman*Center. I found a copy of The Introduction to Christianity and on that day, I also happened to find a Catholic Update which had an excerpt from Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical in which he talked about Love and Eros. One thing lead to another. I picked up Salt of the Earth and all these books by him and before I knew, I was enrolled in RCIA.
I don’t think I have ever read something so clear and fascinating before. I admit that *The Introduction to Christianity isn’t exactly easy but that doesn’t make it less enjoyable.
(I am still amazed to learn that my parents didn’t actually know who our Pope is even though they knew a lot about Bl. JPII.)
With the exception of my father, the rest of my family still isn’t officially Catholic. He didn’t baptise me becuase he wanted me to make a personal choice. My parents say that there they were always too busy to get the rest of the family enrolled in RCIA. But the truth is, there was also laziness involved and sometimes my father became violent and spew out all these hateful things and the rest of the family was dragged along. *My Catholic religion teachers weren’t qualified to explain what the Church was about based on what I remember. Religion class was always mechanical and straight from the workbooks. Some of my Catholic classmates obviously didn’t respect the Church and would brag, instance, how they lied in Confession to provokea reaction in our priest. And I heard a lot of bashing towards the Catholic Church. I felt frustrated, to say the least.
My parents made me read a book on Medjugorje. I believed in it and I liked but I wasn’t*interested in reading it over and over like my parents do. And for some reason, even though *there was a Newman Center at a fellow university nearby, I never ended up taking a RCIA class even though I hung around there.
A few times this summer, my parents took me to a Healing Mass. I like the Mass but I also felt a bit embarrassed by how my parents always chasing after the priest when there was a queue of people who obviously undergone so much suffering. But I did decide to get a Blessing and I went up two times. I was pleasantly surprised by how warm and loving this priest was.
I noticed later on that I felt this deep peace within myself. All the frustration and unhappiness was gone.
Later on I was on Google and I recalled this moment back in school when Pope Benedict*XVI was elected. There were a few Catholics who said that they didn’t like the new Pope because he was German, he was too conservative *and didn’t look like a kind grandfather like Bl. JPII was. I remember saying to myself to myself that “No! He must be a great guy”.
The next thing I knew, I was on Amazon looking for any books about him and found that there were books written be him. Even better!
I was hunting through the bookstores and then finally, I went to the library at the Newman*Center. I found a copy of The Introduction to Christianity and on that day, I also happened to find a Catholic Update which had an excerpt from Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical in which he talked about Love and Eros. One thing lead to another. I picked up Salt of the Earth and all these books by him and before I knew, I was enrolled in RCIA.
I don’t think I have ever read something so clear and fascinating before. I admit that *The Introduction to Christianity isn’t exactly easy but that doesn’t make it less enjoyable.
(I am still amazed to learn that my parents didn’t actually know who our Pope is even though they knew a lot about Bl. JPII.)
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LisaA
Guest
I loved your story, especially the part about Pope Benedict XVI. I felt incredibly fortunate as Blessed John Paul II was Pope when I started the process of RCIA and so I learned about him and the incredible influence he had on the world. Always think of him when I hear the phrase “Be not afraid.”
After his death and then the incredible funeral and many tributes that I watched on EWTN, I was also fortunate to see the process of naming a new Pope. I researched all of the “candiates” and just felt so sure that then Cardinal Ratziner was THE ONE. I was at work but fortunate to watch on the internet and when Pope Benedict walked out and greeted the crowd from the balcony I was alternately laughing and crying. I was so happy and funny enough there is that old thread about the Pope from 2005 still on CAF. Your story brought me back to a wonderful and special time. Thank you for sharing
Lisa A
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anp1215
Guest
Thanks, I have said that to him, but he still doesn’t “get it.” I’m not too worried though because I know that God will open his eyes one day. I have said to him “One day you will understand, and you will become Catholic too and I can be your sponsor.” and he says “Yes, I will.” He just has to open his heart.Not to take the thread off topic, however I feel it may help your husband if you have him meditate on these words: “Did Jesus mean what he said when he said, ‘This is my body…this is my blood.’” That is the key. I just felt prompted to write that. I hope it helps.
B
Bob_Crowley
Guest
A bit of a slow haul - I suppose I had “Christian” values up to about the age of 15. Then I went atheist, till I was 28. I became Christian and was Protestant till I was about 40 or so, and then became Catholic.
I had a sort of spiritual push towards the Church, which I resisted for a while. It was actually similar to the push which seemed to be encouraging me towards becoming a Christian the first time. Push became shove, and I started enquiries, did RCIA and have been Catholic ever since.
There were a few influences, but at no time did anybody suggest I ought to go to the Catholic Church. My original Protesant pastor, a wise prophetic old bird, thought I’d go Catholic, but that didn’t happen till about five or six years after he died.
Basically I think God wanted me there, and when God wants something, He can nag pretty persistently.
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Miriam1947
Guest
Great thread.
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Della
Guest
The key is he needs to meditate on the meaning, by which I meant to say he needs to pray about it with an open heart. If he can accept the Incarnation–that God became man in the womb of the Virgin and that Jesus rose from the dead–something no other man has ever predicted about himself and then done it, then it takes no more faith or “understanding” to accept the Real Presence, especially when Jesus himself instituted it, yes? He needs to put the Eucharist into its proper context instead of isolating it and trying to “figure it out” in a vacuum.
Sorry to take the thread a bit off topic. I am so happy to read all the conversion stories and how God works in lives as he does. It’s just wonderful! Praise God!
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tradconvert
Guest
Raised in a strict Presbyterian family, the elementary (public) school I attended in the late 1950s was next door to the Catholic Church, the convent and the parochial school. The public school (non-catholic) children called out insults over the fence to the Catholic children and the Catholic children responded in kind - those were the days of deep divisions in the community where never did the twain meet.
But despite all that, the proximity of the Catholic Church and what I saw of the outside processions with beautiful public devotions together with a chance finding of Bishop Fulton Sheen’s wonderful book “This is the Mass” at the local library aroused my intense curiosity at the tender age of 9 or 10 years old - so much so that my “heart” basically converted and I wanted to be a Catholic, then and there - impossible as that was given my family circumstances.
But the pull inside me to become a Catholic never went away, and it was only much later in life - for all sorts of unfortunate reasons - that I converted. After I took instructions from a traditional priest who used the Baltimore catechism and celebrated the traditional latin mass which I had read about in Bishop Sheen’s book, I was convinced beyond any shadow of doubt by the undeniable logic of the Catholic faith as the one true faith.
So it can be a long journey which, if one is to really truly convert, must be a journey involving both the** heart** which (may very quickly) come to love the Catholic faith and all of what that entails and the mind which knows there is no other alternative but to be Catholic and there can be no turning back.
But despite all that, the proximity of the Catholic Church and what I saw of the outside processions with beautiful public devotions together with a chance finding of Bishop Fulton Sheen’s wonderful book “This is the Mass” at the local library aroused my intense curiosity at the tender age of 9 or 10 years old - so much so that my “heart” basically converted and I wanted to be a Catholic, then and there - impossible as that was given my family circumstances.
But the pull inside me to become a Catholic never went away, and it was only much later in life - for all sorts of unfortunate reasons - that I converted. After I took instructions from a traditional priest who used the Baltimore catechism and celebrated the traditional latin mass which I had read about in Bishop Sheen’s book, I was convinced beyond any shadow of doubt by the undeniable logic of the Catholic faith as the one true faith.
So it can be a long journey which, if one is to really truly convert, must be a journey involving both the** heart** which (may very quickly) come to love the Catholic faith and all of what that entails and the mind which knows there is no other alternative but to be Catholic and there can be no turning back.
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