The Story of My Conversion:

• Part One: Why I Write (Preface. You are Here)
• Part Two: Panic Attacks and a Flippant Wish (Really the start of the story)
• Part Three: Encounter with Priest in the ER
• Part Four: An Unchurched Childhood, A Confused Adulthood
• Part Five: Going to Church
• Part Six: Knee Surgery and First Visit to the ER
• Part Seven: Second Visit to the ER and Prayer for Healing
• Part Eight: Healing
• Part Nine: Going Home
• Part Ten: Touring St. Cecilia
• Part Eleven: First Mass
• Part Twelve: An Academic Exercise
• Part Thirteen: Nagging Naggers
• Part Fourteen: How Do You Feel?
• Part Fifteen: Dear God
• Part Sixteen: Prayer to the Holy Spirit
• Part Seventeen: Rite of Acceptance
• Part Eighteen: Clay and Ashes
• Part Nineteen: Book of Names and First Scrutiny
• Part Twenty: Second Scrutiny – Waterfalls, Butterflies, Mountains, Doors
• Part Twenty-One: Third Scrutiny – Waiting for Water
• Part Twenty-Two: Adoration
• Part Twenty-Three: An Education in Grief
• Part Twenty-Four: Sisters, Dreams
• Part Twenty-Five: Sacraments
• Epilogue

I am a shy person, especially in groups larger than three or four. Even if I know the people, even if they are family, I have to force myself to speak. I need to mentally prepare what I’m going to say, otherwise, all the thoughts crash on my shore and the words come out in a disorganized mess. Worse still, sometimes (especially when I’m put on the spot) everything I want to say retreats like the tide going out, and suddenly I’m standing on a rocky shore with nothing to say.

The most difficult thing for me to talk about is the blessings God has given me because:

1. I don’t like talking about myself and 2. it feels like bragging.

I know it sounds so odd to read that I don’t like to talk/write about myself when you are reading a blog that is literally me writing about my experiences. Truly, writing posts for this blog is not easy. Sharing my poetry is not easy. It is painful. But it is more difficult not to write.

I need to share this wonderful gift that God has given me: the gift of faith. I am consumed by a fire and desire to share this gift, but the only thing I can offer as witness is myself and my life. I can’t speak with authority on the veracity of tradition or scripture. I can’t write eloquently about the history of the Catholic Church. All I can do is write about my experience and the difference becoming Catholic has made in my life. It is the one change in my life that has changed everything.

Please know that I am in no way deserving of any of these blessings. I do not know why God should answer my prayers. I think this speaks to the torrents of love God pours out on all His children. Even when we have openly mocked Him, laughed at His people, broken almost all of his commandments, worshiped false gods, and been an all-around terrible human being, He is still sweetly calling us home at every moment.