My Spiritual Journey/Conversion Story

[Latinitas]

Hello everyone,

I’ve been reflecting a bit recently on my journey this far in my spiritual life, I decided to tell my story about how I came to the Faith and to where I am now. Hopefully, someone might find it profitable.

This is going to go on for several parts, which I know is normally frowned upon here, but I ask that it be allowed for this. Anyway, here it is:

Part I

I’d been exposed to the Catholic Church from a very young age, since my grandmother (mom’s side), came to live with us when I was 1, and she was Catholic, albeit a little unorthodox. Now my mom converted from Catholicism to Protestantism, and my Dad was a convert from non-practicing Judaism to Protestantism, so I was raised a Protestant. My parents didn’t believe in infant baptism, so I was never baptized as an infant. After a Montessori pre-school, kindergarten, and early elementary school, my parents put me and my younger brother into an evangelical Protestant school, where we stayed all the way until we graduated high school. We would go to Church occasionally, but not often, and I didn’t like the youth group stuff that the churches we went to offered.

 

[Latinitas]

Part II

Starting at about age 10, my relationship with my mom started to deteriorate. Sadly, it’s never been able to recover fully. Not to be hard on my mom, because she’s got a lot of excellent qualities, but she’s emotionally manipulative, and it got so bad that when I turned 15, we ended up going to see a family therapist. He was tremendously helpful for me and my brother, and he helped me understand that my mom was manipulative, and that I needed to be more careful in what I revealed to her. Let me say here that I certainly can’t pretend to be the innocent one in all this; I said many very hurtful things and did many terrible things to my Mom during this time, and he helped me with this too. Anyway, I mention all of this for reasons that will become evident later.

In any event, I started going to Mass with my grandmother when I was about 12 years old, and started identifying myself as Catholic. Sadly, my reason was less than noble. I remember being in history class and discussing the Catholic Church, as well as the Reformation. The teacher of our class asked as how many of us were Catholic and how many were Protestant. Now a girl I had a crush on was in our class, and for some reason, my 12 year old brain decided that I would impress her by answering that I was Catholic, knowing that she was Protestant. In order to make it more real, I decided to start going to Mass. Anyway, I actually decided I wanted to convert a year later, but for some reason I couldn’t. I remember it had something to do with the Parish office, but I can’t remember.

 

[Latinitas]

Part III

After that I drifted away again, and started changing my interests as I entered high school at age 14. Unfortunately, freshman and sophomore yearI I was just adrift, Christian, and identifying as Catholic, but without any real knowledge of this meant. In fact, I thought about becoming Jewish, then a modern-day Puritan, and other things like that.

This was also the case when I entered my junior year of high school at 16. Nevertheless, I decided and made a decision, on the last day before RCIA classes closed, that I would become a Catholic. Thankfully, parish office this time was very helpful. I was too old for RCIC, but too young for RCIA (it’s rare, apparently, for teenagers to convert on their own) and so I ended up being put under my own director who would become my godmother, and I started going to classes every Wednesday night for my whole junior year of high school. This was difficult in an already difficult year, but I enjoyed it neverthless, and I learned what being a Catholic really meant.

This was a difficult for me intellectually, and I had a very hard time coming around to the Catholic faith on a number of points. I remember in my sophomore year in high school being horrified at learning that Catholic Church taught that good works, in addition to faith, were actually necessary for justification. During my catechumenate, I then remember thinking, “of course, the Catholic Church doesn’t believe the Pope is infallible!”. You can imagine my horror at learning the contrary (somewhat relieved by learning of its very limited nature). After this, I tried consoling myself that the Church was sane in its beliefs by thinking to myself, “at least the Church doesn’t Mary is without sin”, yet again to learn differently. Needless to say, my intellect was sorely tested in this time, not helped by the fact that I was only 16 at the time, and I can only thank the divine grace and the intercession of Our Lady in preserving me through this.

 

[Latinitas]

Part IV

After all this, I was baptized on Easter Vigil of 2012 (April 7), confirmed and received my first Communion that night as well. I actually still have all the papers and material given to me from education class with my godmother (it’s a thick folder of material) along with my baptismal candle. I’m still close to my godparents as well.

Of course, being baptized into the Church was only the beginning. I was still very addicted to the sins of the flesh along with some seriously depraved pornography (though nothing illegal, thank God). I was also a serial liar by this point, since I was embarrassed by myself in these years. That said, my faith was definitely firm and real, and I was very zealous for the Faith, though, like many young converts, not well tempered with charity. Moreover, it would help me tremendously with the next year of my life, which was transformative.

Just two days before Christmas, my grandmother (mom’s mom, who lived with us) fell while standing on a chair trying to reach some ornaments to put on the Christmas tree, and broker her hip. She had been very active and independent before this, not using any walking assistance, except for a cane and occasionally a walker. Well we took her to the ER, and she was admitted, and the treatment took its course, but she couldn’t walk anywhere near the way she used to, and we had to get a wheelchair. A few months later, at the very beginning of my senior year of high school, we got a call that her son, who lived in San Francisco, had died. He had come to repentance just a few weeks before, thank God. My grandmother was no stranger to tragedies like this: her father died in a coal mining accident on his anniversary, one of her brothers also died in a mining accident, her other brother had serious psychological problems and ended committing suicide in a church parking lot, her husband had died of a stroke suddenly at 41, and her other son was killed in a car accident. Obviously, her Catholic faith, Polish background, and life experience made going to the cemetery frequently to lay flowers and pray, very important to her. So now the son just died is buried closer to us in the South Bay. In fact, the cemetery was in walking distance from our house (about a mile each way). So during my senior year of high school, I decided to wheel my grandmother at least once a week up to the cemetery to lay flowers and pray. This was a difficult year, and I have no explanation for how I did this but divine grace. Nevertheless, I bonded very closely with my grandmother during this year, and also learned to really appreciate praying for the dead. Her injury also compelled her to need to use a commode in her bedroom at night, and it was my responsibility to empty it for her and clean it, and this further helped bond me to her, as well as gave me valuable lessons in the meaning sacrificial love (as well as giving me good practice for raising young children too).

 

[Latinitas]

Part V

So I graduated high school at 17, and then I went to a serious Catholic university in Florida. I must these years were incredibly precious. I remember on my flight to Florida, I was in a mixed state of extreme rage, and then peace and it would go back and forth. This rage was definitely supernatural, since it was a hatred directed towards God, including wanting to gravely desecrate the Blessed Sacrament (like put in a blender, give it to animals), as well as hatred for those married in the s Church. For some reason, however when I got off the airplane and onto the campus, I suddenly was free of the sin of impurity, but was left with an overwhelming desire to marry and marry as soon as possible. Looking back at this, it was fear of being alone that caused this, since I never dated or had any friends in high school, given the tough situation at home, as well as my conversion. Obviously, at 18 I wasn’t ready to marry, but I made a visit to a Catholic counselor while at school, and over my stay at college, the emotional and psychological difficulties I had were dealt with and healed (and I do mean healed). Religiously, however, I was going to be tested with the greatest test yet. I remember walking back to my dorm, and praying to find the right person to marry, when all of sudden, I heard a voice that was stern and severe yell at me “be a priest!”. I was distressed beyond any level of distress I had felt before. I had told my mom when I was 13 that I wanted to be a priest, but that was because she was pushing me a little hard about girls back then, and I wanted to get her mind off of it. Not a moment I’m proud of, by the way. Anyway, the level of turmoil and darkness in my soul at that time was otherworldly. In fact, listening to the music that I listened to during that time can still bring me to tears a little bit think about how dark that time was. I was so devoured by scruples about my vocation, and then later by scruples generally, that I had to see a psychiatrist and a spiritual director to help get them under control. Thankfully, a year later and they were gone.

Perhaps, even more importantly, the result of seeing the counselor at my college was that I finally could a have serious personal devotion to the Mother of God. I mentioned earlier how the relationship with my mother had very strained. I’m convinced that this difficult relationship was at the root of my difficulty as regards devotion to Mary. Of course, I believed all the Church taught regarding her, but admittedly, somewhat reluctantly, and I downplayed her importance in my mind, and was often uncomfortable around Marian devotions. Obviously, a lot of pathos based appeals to fell flat on my ears, since my own mother was rather distant emotionally from me. My counselor, however, was very devoted to the Virgin Mary, and was also incredibly generous, kind, and firm, and it really was with her help, and with the help of some medication back home, that I finally managed to break this impasse.

 

[Latinitas]

Part VI

All of my experience up to this point, had, as you might expect, has given a rather somber and grave temperament, though I’ve learned to take life a little less seriously more recently as well. I graduated from with my undergraduate degree in math and theology, and then went back to the same college for another year for my master’s degree in theology. Both my undergrad and grad theses were exegeses of Ecclesiastes, a book suitable to my temperament.

Sadly, my grandmother died this spring, and I admit I took this rather hard, since she was my initial connection to the Church, and, as noted above, I grew very close to her in my late high school years. Needless to say, looking back on all this, I’ve come very recently to have a profound sense of gratitude for God, firstly for bringing me to the True Faith, secondly, for pardoning so many grievous sins of mine, thirdly, for bearing patiently with my pride and my many negligence and my ingratitude to Him for so many graces received. I’m only 23 years old, it’s genuinely very humbling that I’ve already gone through of all this at this age, however difficult it has been.

Anyway, I hope this story has been worth the read. If you want me to explain something a little more or have any questions, I’d be happy to answer, although if it involves more personal details, I might respond in a PM. You can PM as well if you want.

Benedicat Deus,

Latinitas