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| Spectacular Sunset |
My conversion to the Catholic Faith began when I was just out of high school. I had returned to the small town where I grew up and spent the summer working there while living with my grandfather. Most of my friends had gone off to college but I was "too smart" to go that route (a decision I have regretted) and so I just stayed behind and worked.
The small town is mainly a summer tourist town so once my friends had gone their separate ways, I was left pretty much alone. Of course my grandpa was there but for a young adult teen, this was not much company.
Anyway, each day I would walk to work...it was only several blocks to the resort where I was one of the remaining waitresses left to handle the fall crowds. My journey happened to take me past the Catholic church, which brought back memories.
Because I had grown up in this town, I was familiar with the church. In my younger years...about third grade or so, when the church was newly finished, my best friend and I had explored the inside of the building, climbing the stairs to the choir loft and testing out the kneelers. We didn't have kneelers at the protestant church we both attended so that was something new. While we were in there, we decided to start our own club because the "cool girls" of the third grade wouldn't let us in their club. We called it L.O.G. and it had eventually had four members. L.O.G. stood for "Lambs of God" and one of the requirements of membership was to pledge ourselves to God. I have no idea whether the name of our club was heretical or blasphemous but it was a good name, we thought, and so our club began. At this point, I should mention that the church then was a mission church and there was no resident priest to shoo us out. The doors were kept open for the faithful so we essentially had free run of the place.
We used the vacant choir loft for our clubhouse and did pray while we were having our meetings. Eventually we moved our club house to another location. I have always wondered if that first encounter with God, whom we could visibly see hanging on the cross from the vantage of our clubhouse, was when I was first "converted" or called to the Catholic faith.
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| The Lord has called me to live in a place where the elk roam |
Back to walking to and from work, being alone with virtually no social life and one day as I was walking, my heart started pounding fiercely when I approached the church. In hindsight, I believe this was the Lord standing at the door of my heart and knocking to be let inside. This happened several times and so one day I went inside. It was just like I remembered, except the communion rails had been removed. I looked around and knew my heart had been pounding for a reason. The church at this time was a regular parish church so I knocked on the door of the rectory, introduced myself to the kindly priest who answered the door and thus began my instruction in the Catholic faith.
Father didn't make me wait to prepare at the time of Easter, but instead began my instruction right there. He gave me books to read and told me to come back the next week. So we journeyed through the history and teachings of Catholicism until the day came when he asked me if I wanted to join the church.
I was going to start a vocational school in January, so if I was going to be baptized, it had to be then.
Even though I was afraid and still didn't know all the answers, I said yes. I found a sponsor and "took the plunge."
I am somewhat shy and when Father told me I would be baptized during Mass, I was terrified. The small church didn't have a place where you could literally take a plunge (full immersion baptism) so he had me hold my head over the baptismal fount used for infant baptisms.
I remember the day and being one of pure joy. It has remained a source of joy to me to walk into that same little church, because my husband and I now make our home in the same small town, and recall the day when God called me to be one of his own little "lambs of God."
